[Written yesterday: 9/27/08]
Well the day started out okay. There was hardly anyone on the roads and no wait at the border, since it was before 11am on a Saturday morning. I had to go through Immigration to let them know I was back and customs to declare all my personal belongings. They wanted a list of what I was bringing back, that was fun trying to think on the spot of what I had in the car, haha. Once we entered Canada the bad things started happening. My Dad basically killed my Bamboo plant that had made it down to Texas in ’03 and was now coming home. He snapped off the leafy part because he forgot it was there. Then the weather took a turn from what we had experienced the last 2 days: Overcast, grey, dreary, and some rain. Yuck.
We then hit traffic in Toronto, raining for real at this point, and the inevitable happened. My dad crashed my car. Not badly, but good enough. He was following too close and braked too late, so he slammed on the brakes and then was forced to turn into the median lane (we were in the left most lane). We hit the concrete divider, it felt like bumper cars. We were both unharmed. I turned on the 4-ways and we made our way across about 4 lanes of Express 401 and then a few of the collectors and found an exit that wasn’t the Don Valley, and finally a shopping plaza. We were both expecting major body and paint damage and a possible flat tire since the car shook quite badly if we went too fast and it felt uneven. We got out to survey the damage and there was NOT A SCRATCH. The only visible thing was that the wheel was grinded down pretty bad in a section and it looked like it could cause the tire to lose air/pressure. Since I had the tire pressure gage readily accessible, we checked the pressure and it was fine. We got back on the highway. Anything over 80kph and the car shook. We pulled off again and found a Canadian Tire. About 45mins later we had a new wheel. My Dad ignored my request to have the alignment checked out. Bad choice. I drove the rest of the way home. Since it was, TA DA, the alignment that was messed up and not the wheel, I had to drive under 100kph (60mph) the whole way. What should’ve taken less than 2 hours took almost 3. I was so upset. This little car accident was my tipping point. All the emotions from the last week, and the whole month really, came rolling in as soon as we pulled into the driveway. I yelled at my dad to GET OUT! And didn’t even greet my Mom. I went to my room (which was exactly the way I had left it, except for clean sheets), lay on my bed and alternated crying and sleeping for the next few hours. I cried because of everything: my stupidity relating to packing; getting rid of all that stuff in the spur of the moment; all the stress and pressure related to moving and big life changing decisions (!); my pillows; for Texas. Mostly I cried for Texas; for the fact that my bedroom door still didn’t latch shut; for the things my Dad broke (the hat, the bamboo, the car); for the things he might’ve broke while packing and I will find while unpacking; the thought of unpacking; how gawdamn cold it is here; But mostly for Texas.
We then hit traffic in Toronto, raining for real at this point, and the inevitable happened. My dad crashed my car. Not badly, but good enough. He was following too close and braked too late, so he slammed on the brakes and then was forced to turn into the median lane (we were in the left most lane). We hit the concrete divider, it felt like bumper cars. We were both unharmed. I turned on the 4-ways and we made our way across about 4 lanes of Express 401 and then a few of the collectors and found an exit that wasn’t the Don Valley, and finally a shopping plaza. We were both expecting major body and paint damage and a possible flat tire since the car shook quite badly if we went too fast and it felt uneven. We got out to survey the damage and there was NOT A SCRATCH. The only visible thing was that the wheel was grinded down pretty bad in a section and it looked like it could cause the tire to lose air/pressure. Since I had the tire pressure gage readily accessible, we checked the pressure and it was fine. We got back on the highway. Anything over 80kph and the car shook. We pulled off again and found a Canadian Tire. About 45mins later we had a new wheel. My Dad ignored my request to have the alignment checked out. Bad choice. I drove the rest of the way home. Since it was, TA DA, the alignment that was messed up and not the wheel, I had to drive under 100kph (60mph) the whole way. What should’ve taken less than 2 hours took almost 3. I was so upset. This little car accident was my tipping point. All the emotions from the last week, and the whole month really, came rolling in as soon as we pulled into the driveway. I yelled at my dad to GET OUT! And didn’t even greet my Mom. I went to my room (which was exactly the way I had left it, except for clean sheets), lay on my bed and alternated crying and sleeping for the next few hours. I cried because of everything: my stupidity relating to packing; getting rid of all that stuff in the spur of the moment; all the stress and pressure related to moving and big life changing decisions (!); my pillows; for Texas. Mostly I cried for Texas; for the fact that my bedroom door still didn’t latch shut; for the things my Dad broke (the hat, the bamboo, the car); for the things he might’ve broke while packing and I will find while unpacking; the thought of unpacking; how gawdamn cold it is here; But mostly for Texas.
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