Wedding dress shopping for non-fashionistas

As you may know, I am getting married (cue dramatic music). After many, many years together, we are finally going to tie the knot.

We toyed with the idea of a quickie Vegas affair, complete with Johnny Cash as the official, and dreamed about a warm Hawaiian beach affair, but finally decided to go back to Acadia University, in Nova Scotia, where we first met. Close to both our families, it made the most sense.

My sister got married this past fall, so I already have some idea of the craziness ahead of us. The planning and guest lists and budgets and attempts to retain sanity. And I know that I somehow want this whole thing to be simple and fun and have it just feel like us.

So in November, my Mom and one of my sisters made the trip out to Vancouver to help me look for "the dress". I've watched a bunch of those wedding dress shows (sometimes there's just nothing on TV, ok?) so I had a general idea of what would happen. What I didn't expect was how out of place I would feel. I've never been a huge shopper or fashion-type person. And now that I live in Whistler and spend most of my days either skiing, hiking or working from home, clothes are pretty far down on my list of priorities. As my cousin Kaitlyn put it, "Left to my own devices, I’d be a hoodie habitating jeans wearing hiking boot rockin’ [31] year old."

So back to the dress shopping. You know that scene in the Sex and the City episode where Miranda thinks it would be fun to have she and Carrie dress up in ridiculously-awful wedding dresses and Carrie ends up having a panic attack and breaking out in hives? That was basically how I felt. Things were tight where they shouldn't be, I couldn't breathe (one shop assistant told me that you're not supposed to feel comfortable in a wedding dress), and my Mom and sister were pretty alarmed to hear loud banging coming from the dressing room (I ended up kicking the walls trying to find my feet under all those fucking layers of crinoline and taffeta and whatever else people hide inside dresses).

Finally I found this really simple dress with one shoulder (so eighties cool!) that just flows all the way down. I can breathe and walk and dance and it finally felt like me. And maybe this wedding will be alright after all. I hope...

Where is home, when your heart is all over the place?

My sister called early yesterday morning. Well, it was 8:00 a.m., but still, it felt early. "I'm sorry", she said. "I didn't realize what time it was there". I told her it was okay, I would call her back in a bit, once I had a chance to fully wake up.

When I called her a half hour later, it turned out she was at my parents cottage-turned house, with a lot of commotion in the background. Cousins and friends and babies were all there, having a fun, impromptu family BBQ, the day after our cousin's wedding. I talked to my sister, to my parents, to cousins who I hadn't spoken with in a long time. I hung up the phone feeling a bit funny, but shook it off and went about the rest of my day.

Later that night, as I was trying to go to sleep, I couldn't get over how sad I felt that they were all having fun without me, that I was missing out on everything. I had already spoken to my family about how I wouldn't be making it for the wedding, since I have my sister's wedding to go to next month. And I love living here and know that I wouldn't be happy living there. But I still cried myself to sleep last night. And I still haven't been able to shake that funny feeling...

A half marathon is a long way to run

Tomorrow is the day. Half marathon starting at 7:30 a.m., 21.1 km. I'm not sure if I've trained enough, followed my running schedule closely enough. Hell, who am I kidding, if I had been following a recipe for chocolate cake, I would now be eating blueberry muffins.

My last run was a week and a half ago, and I ran 19 km. Physically, it was kind of tough, but the hardest part was the conversation in my head:

"Alright, here we go again. Nineteen kilometres. Huh. Really? That's going to take at least 2 hours. This is going to be boor-ing."

"If I make it all the way up Blueberry Hill, it will mean that I will actually be able to finish the half on race day. Wait, what if I get tired and have to stop on the way up this hill? Does that mean I'm going to fail? Yes."

"Okay. If I make it to the little path before Boston Pizza, I'll be done and I can stop running. Wait, I just stopped. And I'm not there yet. Arrgh."

Lazy rainy days

Sometimes the best of plans go awry in the nicest of ways. Like today. I had planned to wake up early and complete an entire to-do-list worth of errands and tasks. Instead, I slept until 10, spent all morning in my pj's, and haven't done any exercise other than sprint from the car to Purebread Whistler to buy cheese bread and a sinfully delicious chocolate brownie.

But sometimes it's just so nice to wrap myself in a cozy blanket and curl up on the couch watching movies and bad daytime TV, safe and dry, away from the pouring rain outside.

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I've been searching for something lately, unsure what it is I'm missing. Time spent Googling vacation spots, both far off and close by, books checked out from the library with the promise of changing my life, visits with friends for the purpose of keeping my goals and aspirations in line. Finally I just booked an overdue trip home to Nova Scotia. And now my dreams are full of visions of the ocean, of familiar places and sounds, of family who see each other more often than I speak to them over the phone.

Sometimes the hardest part is clicking 'submit'

At the beginning of this year, I decided that I needed a new focus for 2011. So I attended a goal setting seminar hosted by Kathy Goddard of Lighthouse Visionary Strategies (it was an amazing experience - I'll be going next year, and you should too). I set goals for all areas of my life, including physical, emotional, career, financial, etc. And then we had to write a letter to our future selves, dated December 2011, talking about how great it will be to have achieved all of our goals. When I got home, I placed the sealed envelope in the drawer of my night-side table and pushed it out of my mind.

Until 7pm on March 31st. Then the envelope was all that I could think about. Under the physical health section, I had decided, in January, to sign up for the Whistler Half Marathon. And three months later, on the eve of the last day of the early-bird registration price, I sat in front of my computer, registration form already filled out, mouse hovering over the 'submit' button.

Could I really run 21.1 km? The longest I had ever run before was 10km and that was years ago. I'm 30 now, for goodness sake. But really. This was my first real goal of the year. No way I could let myself off the hook that easily. So I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and clicked the button. There. That wasn't so hard. Now I just had to figure out how to run longer than I had ever run before without passing out halfway through and having to call someone for a ride home.

I can hear spring coming

I took O for a cross country ski last week, maybe our last for the season. It was early morning and no one else was around. The snow was hard, frozen over from the afternoon freeze the day before. Still, I went as fast as I could, slowing down every so often when the track disappeared. Finally, we reached Rainbow Park and I stopped to take off my skis and run around with O for a little break.

It was a beautiful morning, with the sun not quite rising over the mountains on the left and the ski hill on the right empty of skiers. And for the first time all season, I was not surrounded by silence. Instead, I could hear birds chirping, water running, spring coming at last.
Photo credits: me

If a girl falls in the rain, does anyone see it?

A few weeks ago, I bought some brand new classic skis from the Nordic Shop in Squamish. Yesterday morning, I woke up super early with the plan of taking O cross country skiing, to finally break in the new skis. No matter that it was pissing down rain, I was committed. So I packed everything in the car and agreed to drop off the man at ski school on the way (he's a ski instructor). Halfway there, he said something about skis and I realized, "Oh shit! My new skis aren't fastened into the ski rack!". The man opened the sun roof, slammed shut the ski rack, and all was good. Although I did receive a lecture about making sure all equipment is secure before driving away.

So I took O to Whistler's Meadow Park and went cross country skiing for the second time ever in my life. And his. O ran around the parking lot for twenty minutes while I figured out how to put the damn skis on. Thank goodness no one was there to see me. I was seriously convinced for a while that the bindings / boots were broken. Finally, we were ready to go. O looked so excited, because skis usually mean speed. But there was nothing fast about that ski expedition. I must have fell over at least four times. Eventually, O looked bored and we headed back to the car, where he met another dog. Finally, he got to run around at top speed. Hopefully next time will be better!

An early morning ski

This morning, I used my new-found wake-up-early abilities learned at the Avalanche course to get out of bed before the crack of dawn. It was so early that even the dog was still asleep, curled up on the bed, looking warm and comfy.

Quick breakfast for both of us and then I strapped my skis to my back, grabbed O's leash, and started hiking up the road in my ski boots, head lamp leading the way through the dark and quiet streets.

At the top of the road, I reached the Bear River ski out, slapped the skins on my skis and started touring up the trail. O loved it, dashing in and out of the woods on either side of me, excited to be making paw prints on freshly fallen snow.

And then it was time to head back down. O running ahead of me, leaping out of the snow like a deer, and then running full-speed to keep up as I ski past him, excited that I am the faster one for once.

Time to pack it in?

I'm not even sure if anyone ever reads these posts except me. It feels like I'm sending random words off into space, hoping that some day long in the future, someone will know what I thought and felt.

I didn't pass my CAA Level 1 Ops course. And I feel upset, sad, disappointed, and like a big pile of shit. My boyfriend passed. And I'm trying to be happy for him. But he's on his way to Bellingham for the night, with a big day of skiing planned at Baker for tomorrow. So tonight will be just me and the dog and a big bottle of wine.

I failed the snow pit portion. It's possible to retest, as long I do it before the end of next year. And I was given some helpful feedback. But that means a lot of digging practice and the whole effort of traveling somewhere to show I actually know how to conduct a snow profile. I just wish the outcome had been different.

I feel tired of this whole Whistler thing. Tired of the snow and of skiing and trying to make a life in a place where I might not actually belong. Maybe I should just pack it all in and move home. Back to Nova Scotia. Back to a place where I know everyone, where I can see my family whenever I want, where I work a normal Monday to Friday, 9-5 job and go skiing at a little ski hill on weekends and maybe a big ski trip once a year. Or maybe no skiing at all? What is this god-damned obsession with skiing?

Photo credit: vikush

A detour on the way to Powder Monashee Mountains

I'm on my way to the Powder Monashee Mountains to take my Avalanche Ops Level 1 course. Was planning to make it all the way to Vernon, but we didn't leave Whistler until 2:30 this afternoon. So now I'm chilling at the Holiday Inn in Kelowna, drinking some beer, wondering what this course is going to be like.

Lessons learned today:
1. Ski pole baskets are impossible to find in Whistler
2. Trying to find last-minute items, such as a cheap snow thermometer, never works.
3. When driving somewhere you've never been, it's a good idea to check a map before you leave. And also a good idea to check before you take a right at the fork in the road, when you really have no idea if you should go right or left. (For the record, I should have gone left. It would have saved an hour of driving).

I guess I'm also a bit nervous about the course. I'm a bit rusty on my beacon searches. But I've had a lot of touring experience and everyone tells me there's lots of practice time during the course. So cross your fingers for me, and I'll do my best to study hard and learn as much as I can.

Accidental Sort-of Ski Bum

I didn't set out to be a ski bum. I always did really well in school, was at or near the top of my class. I have two bachelors degrees and my masters in business. I've lived in three Canadian cities and held professional marketing positions in several different industries.

Yet here I am, living in Whistler, doing marketing for a backcountry ski company, part-timing as a ski instructor, and trying to get my own little fledgling marketing business off the ground. And also skiing every chance I can get.

Maybe I don't couch-surf, party every night, and eat Kraft Dinner at least once a day. But I've skied every year since I was four, and after living in BC for the past few years, I can't imagine starting each day without checking the weather, snow report and avalanche advisory.

Everyone says this will be a La Nina winter, with cold temps and lots of fluffy stuff, so I say bring it it on. I am, after all, a sort-of ski bum.

Six Days to Thirty - The Life Unlived

I'm tired. Not because it's late, which it is, at 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday. But because I'm just worn out.

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As a kid, I never wondered about my life as an adult, because I had it all figured out. I used to play The Game of Life with my sisters. Somehow, miraculously (come on, who am I kidding, I'm a master manipulator when I want to be), I always ended up with six kids (which is two kids too many to fit in the standard sedan that the game supplies you with), living in an old farmhouse and working as a doctor. That was my dream life, and I fully expected it to come true.

Now I'm approaching 30. Okay, I'll actually be thirty in six days. And I'm not married and I don't have any children; I'm not a doctor and I don't live in a farmhouse.

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My dog ran away today, after a 40-minute hike in the woods, just before I was going to put his leash back on and head down the street to our house. I had a huge to-do list that was only a third of the way completed. But instead of finishing my list (which actually included taking my dog in the car to do errands, followed by a visit to the dog park), I ended up searching for him for almost three hours, hiking through the woods, retracing our steps, wearing myself out. Finally, I got a call from a little girl, who said my dog was at the bottom of the street, hanging around a small park, chewing a blue ball he stole from a little boy. Who she was and how she got my number, I'm not sure. I want to phone her tomorrow, hopefully talk to her parents, see if I can give a gift of thanks.

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Living on the other side of the country from where I grew up, from where my family still lives, is difficult. I feel like I've almost found my place, but it's still exhausting. Even though it's been over two years, sometimes it feels like no one knows me and I'm starting from scratch, volunteering, joining groups and clubs, trying to meet people and establish myself.

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After finding the dog, I headed home, made a dinner that I didn't eat until hours later (my boyfriend works nights, so I try to cook meals for him), went to band practice, made a quick grocery trip, bought some wine (because after my afternoon, I needed a drink), came home, finished cleaning the bathtub, and finally ate my dinner.

There's folded towels piled on the chair that I keep meaning to list on Craigslist, dry clothes in the dryer, wet clothes in the washer, and I don't care, because I'm tired. I feel like I never get ahead, and there's always two things unfinished for every one thing I cross off the list. No one ever told me that this was what being grown up really meant.

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Makes me wonder if I could have really handled a real life version of The Game of Life?

It's that time of year again...

The leaves on the trees are changing colours and there's snow on the top of the mountains. And that can only mean one thing - it's ski movie season! Yay!

As always, remember to buy tickets in advance, because they often sell out. And get there early to get your seat (and sometimes score some free schwag!).

First up this week is "The Way I See It" by Matchstick Productions. This is playing at MY Millenium Place with four showings - two on Friday night (Sept. 24) at 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. and two more on Saturday night (Sept. 25) again 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. Tickets are $16.50 - come say "Hi" because I'm helping out with this one!

Then on Oct. 2 at MY Millennium Place is "Now You Know" by Sandbox. There are two showings at 7:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m., and tickets cost $10. Afterwards, head to Garf's for free entrance and a good time. You can also RSVP to their event from Facebook.

TGR's "Light the Wick" is up next on Oct. 8, also at MY Millennium Place. Shows start at 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. and tickets are $15. I won't be at this one, though, because my friend John Wells will be hosting the showing in Bellingham, WA on Nov. 18. Be sure to check out John's work, rocking his Fat-ypus skis.

For a change of location, head over to Longhorn's on Oct. 14 for a showing of "Revolver" by Poor Boyzon. I couldn't find any info re: cost and showtimes, but I'm sure the website will be updated soon.

And finally, on Oct. 22, head back to MY Millennium Place for another TGR movie - Jeremy Jones' "Deeper". Tickets are $10 and shows are at 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m.

So there you have it, a busy fall schedule of ski movies. Let me know if I've missed any!!
Photo credit: Me!

The little blog that... could?

I've never really known what to write on this little blog of mine. For a while, I thought that I could be an online marketing guru, and share my vast array of knowledge on the subject. That didn't last long. Then, I toyed with the ideas of talking about skiing, or Whistler, my new hometown, but soon ran out of steam. Now it seems that this blog is just here so that I can play around with colours and fonts and gadgets, so that I can better help other people start their own blogs.

So I guess I've been writing, with no clear idea why, or for whom. I feel reflective today, maybe because my man has gone home to Montreal for the weekend, to spend time with his family. And it's just me and O, the dog, both of us curled up inside the house, not quite used to the change in season yet.

Perhaps this blog has been a reflection of my life for the past few years. I've moved clear across the country, and decided to make my home in this curious little resort town. I've struggled to find my place here, and feel that I'm on the cusp of something, but what it is, I'm not sure. And where it will lead, I have no idea.

Photo credit: chappy14

Bears, bears everywhere

Last month, when I was visiting friends and family out East, I stopped by a friend's 30th birthday at a cabin in the woods. On my way out, I waved goodbye and one of the guys wished me a safe drive and told me to watch out for bears. Right, because the East coast is just teeming with bears.

In Whistler, on the other hand, bears aren't just something you see on the National Geographic channel. This year alone, I've seen more bears than I have fingers and toes. Everywhere from the Whistler village to golf courses to a teenage bear running full tilt across the highway. I even had to cut a dog walk short when I started out the driveway and realized there was a bear rooting around in my neighbour's garage.

I'm a big fan of taking the dog for hikes in the woods, but I'm a bit freaked out about bears, seeing how O has never seen one yet. I could make it easy on myself and put his bear bell on his collar, but that would be too easy. So instead, I yell out strange noises every few metres. I'm sure the dog thinks I'm going crazy.

You know, it makes me sad when I read things in the paper about bears having to be put down because of negative interactions with people. So many times I have seen cars pulled over on the side of the road, with eager tourists taking photos of bears who are walking around in people's front yards. I was even at a restaurant in the village once when a bear walked right past the window, which should have been cool enough. But no, one (not so) smart guy decided he should bring his young children outside and walk around in the bushes trying to get a closer view of the bear!

I know they are cute and look so cudley, but all of this human interaction can't be good. So please, next time you see one, please just drive on, unless you are really far away and have a good zoom on your camera.

A night of movies under the stars

Last week, I finally saw my first outdoor movie (not counting numerous double features at the drive-in theatre - yes, we still have those in my home town out East). I went with friends to Lunafliks in Whistler at Lost Lake. The first film of the summer was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which was really great, even though I knew nothing about it beforehand and didn't expect so much violence.

So although the movie was really good and I had a fun time, a few things I'll bear in mind for next time:

Photo: Ian McLaughlan on Flickr

• The website says the BBQ starts at 8:30 p.m., but the movie doesn't start until sundown. We got there after 9 and they were already out of hot dogs. So if you want grilled meat, come early. And to all you vacationers from the US (like the girl from Arizona I talked to the next day), BBQ in Canada usually does not mean the huge, elaborate feast of pulled pork sandwiches with side salads that you are thinking of. It's just hot dogs. Maybe a hamburger if you're really lucky.
  
• When it gets dark, the mosquitoes come out, so be prepared. Although there will probably be enough people around you who are spraying bug repellent every five minutes that you may be okay. You may also taste bug spray in your mouth for the next dew days.
• When it gets dark, it also gets cold. Bring some layers of clothing and two blankets - one to lie on and one to snuggle under. Optional: a date to snuggle under the blankets with.
• The washrooms close early. Stash some toilet paper in your bag, and when you're squatting in the woods, be sure to make lots of noise to scare the bears away. Just joking. Sort of.
  
• Bring a pillow. I made fun of my friend who brought one until I discovered that the movie was in Swedish, with subtitles at the very bottom of the screen. Since the only language that I understand fluently is English, I spent the entire movie trying to prop up my head with my very stinky sneakers.
  
• And finally, at the end of the night, when the movie is over and you're sleepy and ready for bed (no, you can't just pass out by the lake), it will be dark. Very dark. And the light of your cell phone will not be sufficient to keep you on the path and out of the ditch. So bring a flashlight or headlamp.

There you have it, my suggestions for a comfortable outdoor movie adventure. The next Lunafliks showing is on Wednesday, July 21st with a double feature of Pirate Radio and The Runaways. Have fun!

ATV spells FUN

Friends were in Whistler for the weekend, and it was a blast showing them around town and pretending I was a tourist for a change.

We decided to do a morning ATV adventure with Canadian Snowmobile Adventures. Unfortunately, this was when the weather was still cold (have been hearing it called "June-uary") so we had to add some extra layers, including full rain gear.

After a few practice laps in a parking lot, we headed up the cat tracks, similar to the snowmobile route in the winter. Although not as fun as tearing around through the woods in Nova Scotia, we all had a good time and even saw a few teenage black bears grazing on the ski trails.

Just before the Crystal Hut, we had to drive over fresh snow, and my right thumb, the one used for the gas trigger, was so cold I thought it was going to fall off.

Inside, there was a breakfast feast of the Crystal Hut's legendary waffles and toppings, yummy bacon, and lots of hot drinks to warm up.

Would highly recommend this morning adventure for anyone visiting Whistler, and hopefully you end up with our guide, Ty, as he was really great.

Winter is Almost Over...

It's that time of year again, when there's more rain in the forecast than snow. Tomorrow is the last day of the 2009/2010 ski season that I will be able to walk down my street and catch the Creekside Gondola.

But that also means the best party of the season is about to start: Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival. Lots of events going on all week, from half pipe events to fashion shows. And I have my ticket for the sold-out Filmmaker Showdown on Tuesday, April 21st, 2010. Should be a blast!

Photo by Tyler Ingram, who is working as a photographer for Watermark Communications Inc.

On Top of the World

I went skiing last week on Blackcomb Mountain and hiked up the Blackcomb Glacier, up East Caul and stopped at the top to catch my breath (I am definitely not the world's fastest trekker) and take some pictures. The scenery that day was absolutely amazing, and it looked and felt like I was in the midst of an ocean of clouds.



After my little break, we put the skis back on, got some fresh turns, and started hiking back up and out. But somewhere along the way, I got a ton of snow wedged between my right ski and the skin, and was only attached by the front and back clips on the skin. I hung on for as long as I could, but after the fourth zigzag turn, my ski gave out and I was on my knees on the side of the hill, trying to keep it together. So I strapped my skis to my back, finished the climb in my boots, and ended the day with a fun ski out the Corona Bowl.

A lazy Saturday afternoon

Okay, so it's not really Saturday, it's Wednesday. But my days off fall in the middle of the week, so it's Saturday for me - make sense?

I knew it was probably going to be an epic ski day because I had already checked the weather/snow report/live temperatues/avalanche report on my favourite website of all time, www.whistlerblackcomb.com . But I just couldn't get myself moving!

So instead, I decided it would be a great day to spend with my man's dog, O. So I skiined up my skis, loaded my backpack, and O and I started trekking up the road. At the very top of my street is a ski-out, which you're usually supposed to ski down. But I skinned up for about a half hour, with O diligently trotting along (with one very long stop when he decided to dig up a petrified banana peel and ignore all of my calls to keep going).

After making it up the hill a while, it was time to put away the skins and ski back down, chasing O the whole way. All in all, a great day off!