Nothing like an early morning drive through the snow.

For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about the time I had the opportunity to meet the Chinese Ambassador to Canada three winters ago. Of course, I didn’t get to meet the Ambassador. My father, who had blown out the tires of his car earlier that week, took the loaner car that I would drive to school without telling me and then proceeded to blow out the tires out right in front of our neighbour’s house just before I had to leave.

My family was like, “Ambassador? What’s an ‘ambassador’?”

Maybe I should’ve just been grateful that I never told my family that I was going out to meet Margaret Atwood, Salman Rushdie or Umberto Eco, until after the fact. Given my luck, my family might’ve accidentally killed them…