S.O.S.

Victoria got almost six inches of snow over the weekend, and the temperature is hovering around -2. In other words, we've been dealing with the apocalypse. The looting and arson seems to have subsided, but the curfew will be in place for another few days at least.

People in this city seriously lose their minds when white stuff falls from the sky. I left my staff Christmas party early when I saw the snow piling up outside the windows. I knew it was only a matter of time before the crowd panicked and began drawing names for the first people to be cannibalized in the name of the greater good.

My progress home was seriously impeded by two city buses sprawled across the main street into town, resting comfortably against several parked cars. It took some maneuvering for me to steer up the slight incline, into the oncoming lane and around the buses to keep on my way. Luckily I had a small peanut gallery of drunken men standing on the sidewalk, taking bets as to whether I would make it.

Odds were against me apparently, but they didn't know I drove a white '93 Corsica named Lucille for five years in Calgary without snow tires and without an accident.

Had this been Calgary, I would have had some redneck in a Hummer behind me honking his horn and bursting blood vessels in his brain while I wasted his precious time waiting until there were no cars in the oncoming lane. A drunken peanut gallery shouting discouragement was really rather a nice change.

As I slowly drove to safety, I could hear the peanut gallery in collective appreciation. "Holy shit! She made it!" By this time, there was four inches of snow on the ground.

The second day into the apocalypse, I met some friends for brunch after an hour and a half of phone calls trying to determine whether it was safe to be outside, as there was a windchill factor.

Nobody was sure what the windchill factor was exactly, but several people were convinced that whatever it was, it wasn't safe. We made it to brunch alive, and congratulating ourselves on being hardy enough to walk through snow.

We spent the rest of the day at a friends place watching zombie movies and drinking hot chocolate and wine. Nothing says the holidays like zombie movies. Late into the night we wanted to order pizza, and this is where the problems began. There was no pizza available for delivery in Victoria.

Some pizza places didn't answer the phone. Others answered but said they weren't delivering at all, and some hung up when we asked. Our favourite pizza place said the wait for a delivered pizza was three hours, because they only had two drivers and one was missing. The pizza place was hopeful the missing driver would show up some time, perhaps during the thaw.

Without pizza until spring and or when the deep freeze lifted, I figured I better leave quickly once again. I was watching zombie movies with three skinny gay boys, and if anybody was going to be sacrificed for food it would definitely be me.

In fact, one of my friends had been hugging me all day saying how huggable my curves made me - that I felt like a really great body pillow. This did not bode well for my chances, but it was actually kind of flattering. At least the extra fluff feels nice for others.

It was deemed unsafe for me to walk, and unsafe for anybody to drive me because we were all drunk and somewhat afraid of the undead. I tried to call a cab. I called five different cab companies, and not one answered the phone. Holiday zombies or not, I was walking home.

I was made to promise to call as soon as I walked in the door, and I'm not sure whether the concern was me falling into a snowbank and not being rescued or me freezing to death despite the evidence that I had enough body fat to make me very huggable and therefore more resistant to cold.

The -2 degree deep freeze continues, and I'm not sure how much longer my city can survive. If you get this message, please send snow plows, because we have none. Send food too, because I'm hungry. And also, send men. They won't help with the crisis, but we just don't have enough to go around.