Now I Know Why We Buy Insurance

Yeah, so my life right now would be better if today had never happened. I woke up expecting to take a nice run in the nearby Heinz Park and then take the train downtown to the MLA conference. But things went immediately wrong. To begin with, I couldn’t start my brother-in-law’s car. My four-year-old nephew watched from the front steps of his house for about a minute as his idiot aunt repeatedly tried to rev the minivan to life. Noticing that I needed help, he proceeded to get in the passenger’s side door and give me a driving lesson. When he’d told me all about the emergency brake, the windshield wipers, park, and drive (or how to “make the car walk”), he then instructed me not to go anywhere while he went to wake up his dad so he could help. And so began my mortifying morning.

Turns out that starting the car would be the most easily solved problem of the day. There was a little button above the latch that opens the trunk that I had to press while I was turning the key. Yeah, I never would have seen that little button, let alone guess the proper timing or its function. With a little hand-written map on the back of an envelope, some oral instructions, and the car ready to walk, I began what I thought would be my two-mile trek to the park.

Problem #2, occurred as I approached a stoplight and began scanning the area for street signs or landmarks. I began breaking, but thought that I saw other cars begin to go, and as I wasn’t really playing close attention, I took my foot off the break and walked right into the BMW in front of me. I would like to think that it was just a gentle bump, and one look at the back of the BMW seemed to confirm that, but my BIL’s car, unfortunately, told a different story. The hood was bent, the radiator pushed back, and the grill looked in need of attention. The large male driver of the other car was obviously upset, but seemed to calm down a little when he saw the lack of damage to his set of wheels (the bumper was scuffed and there was one possible loose piece, but nothing was bent or noticeably broken). We ended up exchanging cell phone numbers and first names, and he promised to call me later that afternoon to see about compensation.

The smart thing to do would have been to turn around and go explain to my family what had just happened. I, unfortunately, was not feeling very smart today. I was crying and feeling angry and frustrated and the best thing for me to do when I am this upset is to go for a run. I figured I was already more than halfway to the park, so I might as well go for my run, think about everything, and then go home more mentally prepared to deal with my stupidity. However my little run-in scared me into keeping my eyes directly on the road, and not on the signs and landmarks I was supposed to be watching for. Thus, I completely missed my turn and was oblivious to this fact until I found myself on the highway and crossing the big bridge across the river and into downtown Philadelphia. I was able to navigate back across another bridge and thought that I would be okay, but then I ended up heading towards the airport—which is neither where the park is or where my BIL lives.

At this point I had to admit that I was completely lost. I would have stopped immediately and asked for directions, but there was no appropriate, populated opportunity. I got back on another major highway that I believed would take me in the right direction, and then exited as soon as possible when I saw signs for a big park. I never saw an entrance for the park, however, but was able to stop at a gas station and ask for directions. But of course, nobody, even with the aid of multiple maps, was able to assist. I thought that I was near the park, but probably nowhere near the entrance I needed to be, and I knew that even if I could get into the park somewhere, I would still be unable to find my own way home. So I finally gave in and called my husband and his brother. I was hoping to evade this alternative a little longer so that I could avoid compounding the shame of the accident with my inability to follow simple directions. But this was not a day to escape humiliation. By this point I was bawling on the phone and my husband had to explain the story to his brother before he could help me figure out where I was and how best to get back home. It turns out that after my tour of the river and the airport I did end up right next to the park, and not too far from his house, but I was completely turned around. It only took a couple minutes, however, for my BIL to help me navigate the foreboding streets back to his house.

I must say that my husband and BIL were both very supportive and understanding, but I still feel extremely guilty and stupid. After a short discussion, K drove me back to the now-infamous park where I was able to run for an hour, before returning to await the call from my earlier victim. It turns out he just wants to be paid in cash and be done with it. We are suspicious.

With all of the phone calls, estimates, and insurance conversations, I wasn’t able to make it to the MLA today. What makes me feel even worse is that my SIL, also a blogger and English aficionado, had gone to the conference early that morning for a job interview and still knew nothing about the damage that I had done to her car. She called to see if I would be able to meet up with her for lunch in between sessions, and I had to tell her that I was running late and would not be able to join her. We all agreed not to share the bad news with her until later, so at least she could have an enjoyable afternoon. Later on, however, she called to tell me that she was bringing home some books for me—which I was very excited about—but all I have to repay her for her kindness is a smashed hood and future car-rental and repair hassles. I feel terrible.

Oh Canada

Right now I’m feeling too lazy to weave together the entire story of our latest trip to Canada, so here is a list of the highlights.

Vancouver airport was beautiful, with a museum-quality display of Indian culture and streams of water that cascaded over smooth rocks parallel to the escalators.

We got into the city just before a major windstorm hit, knocking down lots of trees, damaging boats in the harbor, and causing several electrical outages. (We were quite oblivious to this until the next day when we heard about and saw some of the damage.)

Our hotel was right downtown, so the next morning we did some window shopping and then walked to Stanley Park. The park was gorgeous and smelled heavenly of pine—a scent I guess I’m not really familiar with, living in the south and only being exposed to the fake cleaner smell. Unfortunately, because of the aforementioned damage, lots of the roads and sidewalks were closed and we didn’t get to explore as much as we would have liked to. And honestly, even if everything had been open, K and I were rather cold and tired from all the walking and our 8-9 mile run earlier that morning.

Stanley Park had the cutest, furriest squirrels I’ve ever seen. Here is a black one trying to get into a ziplock bag of peanuts.

On the long walk back to our hotel, we stopped at a quaint little market and I got one of the best pastries I’ve ever had. It was like a cinnamon roll, but baked in a muffin tin, and instead of raisins, it had blueberries! I thought that sounded a little strange at first, but it was incredible. I’ve already spoken with my chef/baker friend about trying to duplicate this phenomenon.

The next morning we took the Snowbus up to Whistler. The 2+ hour drive was beautiful, and fairly entertaining—not because they showed Nacho Libre (which only affirmed my previous apprehensions) but because we sat right near some interesting and talkative people. To the right were some early twenty-somethings who talked mostly about drinking. Among them were two guys from Scotland, some Americans, a Canadian, and a guy from Australia who was unhindered by a job and had been traveling around North America for the past few months. Must be nice. Then, directly behind us were two British women traveling with their young children. They mostly discussed their divorces and current love affairs. One of the women suspected her soon-to-be ex of being a gay child predator, and the other complained that her new live-in lover didn’t help her enough with her children. We also got to hear how upset she was that he hadn’t helped her carry her bags down the stairs. The children, needless to say, were less than well-behaved, which also added an interesting element of surprise to the ride.

Whistler Village was very charming. Everything was within walking distance, and our hotel was at the base of the mountain, directly above the ski rental shop. This is a picture from whistlerblackcomb.com.

We snowboarded for three beautiful days. The weather was mostly clear and warm and the snow was better than average, especially for that time of year. Some of the trails were already marked to indicate the locations of various Olympic events in 2010, so we went down most of the men’s and women’s downhill and super G.

After snowboarding each day we took advantage of the hot tub, napped, cleaned up, ate, and went to bed early. I don’t think I’ve slept that much in a very long time. I really needed to catch up on my snoozing.

It was raining at the base of the mountain the morning we had to leave, so that made it easier to say goodbye. We rode the snowbus back towards the airport and then took a cab the rest of the way. The bus had actually been running a little late and we were afraid we’d miss our flight, but some windstorms back home had caused the flight to be delayed a little over an hour. This turned out to be a very good thing, because we had to go through customs in Vancouver, which was strange and took an extra long time. Then, after boarding the plane and heading out to the runway, the pilot had to turn the aircraft around because of a discrepancy in the luggage compartment. I guess some fool hadn’t counted or weighed the bags appropriately and their numbers weren’t matching up. This caused further delay, and we ended up arriving home over three hours late.

Ultimately it was a great getaway for the two of us, and we’d like to go back again with friends and family--maybe for the Olympics?

Gingerbread Houses

Below are some pictures of gingerbread houses on display at our hotel in Vancouver. I love the Candyland one!

From Hanzel and Gretel?

The Candied Kremlin

Ferris Wheel

Shredded Wheat and Oreo Shingles

Candyland!

Country Cottage

Cinderella's Castle

Christmas Survey

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
Egg nog reminds me of mucus. Chocolate is from the gods.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
I believe the elves do all the work.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
Well, I currently have neither, but I like colored on the tree and white on the house.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
Over the bed--great answer.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
Years when we're not traveling for the holidays--so rarely.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
Candy

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child:
All the candy

8. When or how did you learn the truth about Santa?
Santa was usually my Uncle Mark who made my cousins cry--I was just interested in the candy.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Usually, yes

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree?
Hallmark ornaments collected throughout the years. I went through a cat phase, but am now collecting Snoopy ornaments.

11. Snow - Love it or Dread it?
Love it in Canada or Colorado where I can hit it and quit it.

12. Can you ice skate? Have you ever fallen on the ice?
The triple salchow I slipped on totally ruined my chances for the last olympics

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Probably all my little plastic kitchen gear. Now I have the real stuff and wish I didn't have to use it.

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Getting candy and seeing family

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?
Candy--name brand fruity sour stuff is always good, and Nana makes some wicked chocolate covered goodies.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Stockings filled with candy.

17. What tops your tree?
A lot of cobwebs, probably.

18. Which do you prefer giving or Receiving?
Is there candy involved?

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
"Baby it's Cold Outside" and "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm" --those two go nicely together, don't you think?

20. Candy Canes - Yuck or Yum?
Well, let's see . . . are candy canes considered candy?