So said a friend of mine the other day. And it couldn’t be more accurate.
As a lifelong Winnipegger I’m constantly astonished by how many people talk about the weather. I’m aware that this city can have some insane weather, especially in the winter (we had thunder snow warnings this week). But it’s so funny that the weather seems to be the jumping off point for so many conversations, superficial and otherwise.
I’ve noticed it the most while I’m waitressing: it’s the easy, go-to, conversation while I’m standing around waiting for the debit machine to finish up.
“Is it still pretty windy out there?”
“Ya it’s crazy, it’s like minus 40.”
“Oh boy, I guess I won’t be walking home today.”
So on and so on. It’s the small talk, but it’s also the day to day experience that connects us all in a city that is so internally proud of its daily wind chill factor. It quickly becomes common ground and is sort of representative of the hardiness that is typical of the prairie experience.
The snow will fall and the wind will blow, but regardless of the conditions outside we will still find ourselves bundling up and waiting for the bus. It’s nice and it’s endearing.
I’ve loved growing up in this city and lately I’ve felt very grounded in Winnipeg. I mean I have two cats, my entire family, all my friends and a love that I would’t dare uproot. Because of this I’ve been struggling to decide my major, which is a very realistic dilemma that I need to relinquish with the week.
My pros and cons list have nothing to do with the weather in Winnipeg and more to do with my indecisiveness. I’ve never been good at making decisions but having to choose a major, based on three months of experience, has proved to be an anxiety inducing task.
When I signed up for Creative Communications I was hell bent on being a journalist. Now, I think it would be nice to make some money. Previously, I wanted nothing more than to travel the world and tell the stories I encountered, now I feel so settled I couldn’t care less.
While I know what I want do in my heart I also know that this city, and all of its’ crazy snowdrifts, will be the place I end up growing old in. I accept you, Winnipeg, minus 50 and all.