Bizarro World

Me am living in Bizarro Iqaluit. Me am so sad that temperatures so warm...

Okay, that's as far as I'm going with that. I never did care for Bizarro Superman. It used to give me a small headache trying to figure out the grammar and spelling with that character.

Still, the basic sentiment is there. This was a strange, strange day in Iqaluit. It got up to five degrees. Cathy tells me she heard we were one of the warmest places in Canada today and yesterday. The blizzard that was suppose to hit last night didn't. The temperature spiked above zero so instead of blowing snow we got sheeting rain. So when waking up this morning, we saw a lot less snow and a whole lot of ice and slush. And a big, bright sun. It was a gorgeous day. Except, you know, for the whole people falling all over the place and breaking bones.

It's about 7:45 p.m. right now and it's still 4 degrees and the wind is howling so the snow is taking another cutting. Of course, when this all freezes within the next 12 hours or so it's going to make getting around even more hellish. I mean, this is a fluke. It's not like "Ah, spring." It's more like "What the hell is this?" followed by another two months or more of -20.

Meanwhile, my cousin Penny sent me pics of all the snow they had to clear out yesterday and there are a half dozen local blogs with similar photos. I'm seriously losing bitching rights when Newfoundland is getting socked much harder than we are right now.

Then again, when it's May and there is still snow on the ground and ice in the harbour in Iqaluit and you're all in St. John's with, well, snow on the ground and icebergs floating by and probably foolishly camping somewhere, I still won't be able to say a God damn thing. Curses.

The other highlight of the past 24 hours was the building's fire alarm going off at 2:15 a.m. I actually slept through the first 30 seconds of it until Cathy, deeply concerned for my safety, thoughtfully woke me up and sent me downstairs to see if we were in imminent danger of burning to death or if it was some drunken idiot pulling the fire alarm.

I still have no idea what it was, but I will note that when I went back upstairs, after the alarm had been ringing for 30 minutes, that the fire department still had not arrived. Not had the building's super. In fact, when the alarm was finally silenced at about 3:12 a.m., I don't recall having seen the cherry glow of the fire truck's lights, so I'm assuming they never showed up first nor last. I am ever so reassured that if my six story apartment building should suddenly turn into The Towering Inferno, that my friendly neighbourhood Iqaluit fire department will be nestled snug in their beds while I become a bucket of extra crispy KFC.

By the way, I say 3:12 a.m. because that's when Cathy told me it stopped. I put a pillow over my head and managed, much to her dismay, to fall back asleep. "That's the sign of a man without any guilt or worries," she said. And I guess I am.

Except, now that I think on it, for that whole "being turned into a bucket of extra crispy KFC" thing...

Currently Playing
Picareseque - The Decemberists