The Lake House

Today is February 12th and for many, the night when St. Valentine’s Day will be celebrated simply because it falls on the Saturday night before the big day. I have to wonder how many will make February 15th THEIR Valentine’s Day simply because its pay day

Anyway…

I personally think this is a BS celebration…to clarify, I believe that if you can’t show your love and appreciation all year long, this day shouldn’t be any different. It becomes a commercialized frenzy to pressure people into making up for being a total shit the rest of the time so your girlfriend (sorry guys, in most cases, you are the culprits) or boyfriend, will be somehow convinced you are the most romantic person in the world. This is my second love holiday that I am spending without a man in my life, and while I got a little sentimental, I decided to spend the evening watching sappy movies to re-ignite my belief that true love still does exist someplace in the universe. The only exception on the movie front was a football flick called Remember the Titans which I just happened to have PVR’d and totally loved. I needed a break from all the love stuff. Here is what the night consisted of:

• Nights in Rodanthe (wtf? Had no clue how this one ended and was NOT ready for that ending)
• The Notebook (a happy ending to that one, albeit a bit twisted and bittersweet; the epitome of true love IMO)
• Under the Tuscan Sun (reinforced my goal to make a trip to Italy in the next year. Marcello…need I say more?)
• Remember the Titans (happy Walt Disney ending, a dose of testosterone and Denzel…again, need I say more?)

Romance manifests itself in many different ways, and I think a lot of people lose sight of this. If you are a woman who needs to be showered with gifts or trinkets in order to feel more validated by your man, then that’s your thing. Its just not mine. Maybe as a man you need to shower your girl with expensive stuff because you act like an ass most of the time and that is the only way she’ll stay with you. Again…totally your thing, just not my preference. My ideal way to celebrate this day would be to cook dinner together, drink some nice wine and settle in for a movie where you can cuddle under a blanket and fool around like the horny 40-somethings we are. With the hectic pace of daily life, so many people don’t take time to connect anymore…they just throw jewelry and other stuff on top of the problem hoping it will get a stay of execution for another year. Jewelry is great…I love bling as much as any girl does, but I don’t need to get it on a certain day of the year for it to mean something special. Plus if I really want some, I will get it for myself. Save that stuff for birthdays or Christmas when gifts are typically given to a person. Fostering romance can be the little things that you do for one another every day…love texts, sexy emails, and just finding ways to let that special person in your life know that they are important to you. This isn’t directed solely at the guys either…this goes for all of us. If you look at the history behind Saint Valentine’s Day you will see that it was meant for lovers to express their love with flowers, confectionery (food basically) and written cards. I’m all for the exchange of cards, but the confectionery and flowers has been blown way out of proportion. Is it just me? The whole “show her how much you love her with this expensive piece of jewelry or you will look like a total asshole” marketing scheme just makes me cringe. Every kiss does begin with K, but it shouldn’t cost you an arm and a leg. Just kiss for Pete’s sake!

I’ve had some great guys in my life and I’ve had some not so great ones. At the end of the day, none materialized into Prince Charming and none of them were overly romantic; it just wasn’t part of their repertoire, at least not with me. Once you figure out its not all about the grand gestures, and you just pay attention, romance is really easy. The simple ritual of celebrating love in modest, yet heartfelt ways has gone to the dark side. No wonder aliens haven’t taken over our planet yet…as a society we are frigging stupid when it comes to things like this. Its the madness of the masses and for those out there that have this all figured out, good on ya.

Romance is all around us and chivalry isn’t dead…at least that’s the theory I’m sticking with.

Okay, before my avid followers bash me for taking so long to do this, let me shamefully admit that yes, I have been home for 3 1/2 weeks and am just NOW getting around to writing this post.  I suck.

I have been VERY busy if you must know.  Week one…caught a cold immediately upon breathing the cold Canadian air back into my lungs…*cough* cough *.  Week two…tried to figure out why no one would serve me Tequila first thing in the morning.  Week three…studying like a mad woman to finish my fitness course (ah…brought back those memories of cramming due to procrastination back in college).

A “Mexicoma” is essentially a term I came up with to describe the total bliss and disconnect from reality that I felt on this trip.  When I was away, I really felt so relaxed and happy, like I had slipped into a coma of sorts.  You see, I turned 42 this year (I know, I know…hard to believe…great genes on my Mom’s side of the family) and decided a couple of months ago that this year I was going to treat myself and take a tropical vacation to celebrate my birthday.  Last year’s birthday entailed a lousy dinner at a local restaurant with my Mom and BFF followed by a night of tears.  The last beach vacation I enjoyed was in 1997 when I went to Jamaica with T & W to celebrate their 8th wedding anniversary.  This year, they will be married 22 years.  I thought it was definitely time.

Flashback: Clinton was President…the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup…Candle in the Wind (Elton John) was #1 on Billboard’s Top 100.

Wow, when you see it laid out in black and white, that’s pretty fucking sad.  Anyway, I digress…

I had no one particular in mind to go with (although I did invite a bunch of friends who came up with one lame excuse or another), but decided that with or without a sexy man on my arm I was going anyway.  My year had really sucked big bo-bo and I was definitely overdue for some fun, relaxation and a tribute to me.  Besides, if you can’t find a hot man before you leave, there is always a pretty good chance you will find one at your destination.   Turns out I was able to secure one before I left, a tasty import from the U.S. whom we shall call “N” to protect what’s left of his reputation

Here’s the run-down…9 years older, hotter than most guys 25 years younger and thinks I am the best thing ever.  No…I did NOT slip him a mickey or have him brain-washed in the lab before we left… its all true.  I had never been on the Mexico bandwagon as it just never seemed like a place I would want to go.  But after my BFF made two trips and raved about the Mayan Riviera, I figured it was a.) relatively close (not really), b.) inexpensive and c.) really…what the hell?  You only live once, right?  I spent a magical week on an amazing white beach with the most incredible blue/green water I have seen, drank Margarita’s all day long starting at 9:00am, spent the days in a somewhat secluded cabana tanning topless without a care in the world, and in the evening walked the beach in the warm Mayan breeze looking at the stars, rolled around in the sand a bit and salsa’d my way back and forth to the bar .  It all just oozed romance and sensuality and was a truly peaceful paradise.  I honestly  never wanted to leave and I definitely plan to go back.

The biggest thing for me (and those who know me will be SHOCKED at this next part) was…gulp…turning off my BlackBerry for the entire week.  The only time I turned it on was to check or send text messages to see who had won the World Junior Gold Medal Hockey Game (hello…I.AM.CANADIAN) and to see if I got any birthday messages.  It was so liberating and awesome.  Like a dedicated fitness chick & rooster, we scoured the compound for quite a while until we finally found The Gym.  Okay, really?  It was hidden at the back of the property near the warehouse-type structure where all the laundry gets done and for good reason.  If Indiana Jones had come flying out of the palm trees, I would not have been the least bit surprised.  To call it a gym is laughable, but interval timer and skipping rope in hand, we managed to push out a decent workout.  Been there, done that and it was back to lounge on the beach.  Does endless walking in the sand count as a “workout”?  Seemed to do the trick just the same.

The hardest part of a beach vacation in January is coming back to Canada…in January.  That, and the “adios” at the airport to my beach buddy were the low points of the whole trip.  Suffice it to say, I had a fabulous time and got exactly what I was looking for.  Sorry to all those that I had to stiff this year at Christmas to make this happen, but once in a very blue moon, you just have to say “screw it” and put yourself first and make the most of an opportunity when it comes your way.  I would describe it as an awakening of sorts…the liberation of my heart, mind, body and soul.  Me thinks this will be an annual pilgrimage of sorts and depending on the dates of a buddy’s wedding in the Dominican during the same time in December/January, I will head back to my cabana in paradise, Bubba Keg, bikini and beach hat in hand.

Like Jerry Maquire said…”who’s comin’ with me?”

Akumal Slide Show

Last week was another epic family dinner out with my dad being in town for his ritualistic pilgrimage for a doctor’s appointment that always includes a trip to Costo, Canadian Tire and Wal-Mart to buy more shit that he doesn’t need (only to later somehow convince my mom to return it for him or try to pawn it off on us – hence the toaster oven debacle of the previous post on this topic) and dinner with his family.  Its been about a month and a half since  our last get together, and the scenario is always the same.  A local restaurant (to be left unnamed to protect the innocent), my brother and two nieces, me and my mom and dad.  For those that don’t know, my parents have been divorced for 30 years so they’ve had lots of practice at learning to get along with one another for the sake of us kids.  What is even more comical is how they still talk to each other like they’re married, and not in that lovey-dovey way, but in the “I would love to smash your face in” kind of way.  It has allowed my brother and I to develop a secret language of looks that fly between us to keep us both from losing it and my nieces laugh their heads off.  I can totally smell a sitcom in the making here, just have to figure out how to sell the story to one of the major networks and sit back to count my money.

Since he still refuses to get a hearing aid, my dad talks very boisterously and my brother spends the entire dinner shushing him while I point out how futile is efforts are.  He has always talked loud and always will.  Just give in dude, there’s no point in fighting it.

Tonight I made sure to document the wisdom that gushes like a fountain on my BlackBerry to ensure I got it just right when writing about it.  Here’s how it all went down:

1. At our last dinner, my dad asked me to recommend a meal for him, so I chose a healthy pasta dish made with whole wheat pasta and veggies (the latter which seems to be glaringly absent from his current diet).  When he asked me again tonight, I pointed out the same dish to which he replied, “That’s what I had last time.  It was so healthy, I couldn’t sleep”.  Apparently healthy food interrupts his sleep pattern and should be avoided.  I think he should worry more about the Buddha belly he has going on.
2. He asked if we ever watch the show Dragon’s Den, to which we replied we do.  Its a great show about Canadian entrepreneurs who try to hit up 5 highly successful capital venturists for the dough they need to make their companies work. Most people get completely devoured on this show. Anyway, my dad pointed repeatedly to his ball-cap laden head and said “This thing’s ticking 24 hours a day.  Don’t be surprised if you don’t see me on that show one day”.  Apparently he has millions of dollars of untapped resources living inside his head that he plans to unleash on the world when the time is right. I can only wish.
3. Still can’t understand why I’m not into drinking red wine that is home-brewed and served up out of a hillbilly jug. Apparently I think I’m some kind of big wig because I like wine that doesn’t need to be siphoned out of a tube hanging from the ceiling of my kitchen.
4. Compared my mom reaching her voting limit for Battle of the Blades to the guys who were on the news recently for the whole anti-HST petition.  Not really sure WTF he is talking about here, but these are the random types of things he will find important to say to me and actually grabbed the phone away from my mom while I was talking to her to tell me this little tidbit.
5. Asked me if I like rice, to which I replied “what kind of rice?”.  I don’t eat white rice unless its a special dinner out so this question confused him since he thought the word “rice” was pretty self-explanatory.  He was shocked that I did not want to take some of the 11 pounds of Australian brown rice that he recently  purchased off his hands.  As he says, “hey, you can’t go wrong with 11 pounds of rice for $9″.  What the hell is he going to do with 11 pounds of rice? Unfortunately I would have taken some, but didn’t have my handy rice container in the car.

Please don’t get me wrong, I love my dad and the fact he is the most real person I think I have ever known in my life, but he truly is hilarious without really meaning to be and I would be remiss if I didn’t share this with my readers.  What is even more interesting to me is how I have started to lovingly make fun of him a bit and it makes him laugh which I love.  Feels like we are bonding a bit in some strange way.

Stay tuned for the next round of wisdom…I know I can’t wait.

For those that may need a translation, it means ” fuck it”.  I can’t think of another saying that could possibly convey the BS I continue to witness in the world.

That  means “bullshit” if you needed another translation.  I think the glossary of terms is handled now.

I seriously can’t believe that there are things in this world that shock me when it comes to the lack of human decency we perpetuate on each other daily. If you pay attention for 5 seconds, you will see examples of it all day long and if you give a shit in the slightest, it will begin to infuriate you.  You know that crazy, grumpy old man on your street that you made fun of as a kid, sneaking around his house wondering why you never saw him come outside?  The one that would shake his cane at you or shoot at you with his salt gun, calling you “punk kids” if you came anywhere near his property, only to disappear back into the depths of his creepy house?  I figured out why he was like that…he kept it all pent up and never learned to finally say “fuck it”.

It has become an “all about me” society, and frankly it sucks.  Like the guy who figures he’s going to punch it just as you are approaching the intersection he is trying to merge into in order to shave about 1/2 a second off his commute;  the jackass walking towards you on the sidewalk with a friend/dog/group that force YOU to get out of THEIR way since apparently the whole sidewalk is theirs; spending a shitload of money on something, say a magazine advertisement, only to have the owner treat you like you are a mindless idiot and does not listen to one word you have to say and turns everything into a pissing match.  I remember making this comment to my dear friend Brigitte a couple of years ago, and she thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world…here goes…

…people are assholes.

You heard it.  Of  course there are exceptions to this, such as the people I happen to like and associate with and love and many, many others who I have not yet had the pleasure to meet.  But the unfortunate reality is that we don’t seem to care about each other; simple niceness to the rest of humankind.  The smallest acts of kindness go a long way, so think about that next time your self-important self makes someone else feel small.  Hold the door open for someone when you are going into or coming out of someplace (that goes for everyone, not just guys)…its a courteous thing to do versus letting it slam into the person directly behind you.  When someone is trying to merge in rush hour, let them in and don’t jam into the intersection thinking you can squeeze in…you won’t make it.  Let the guy with the one can of soup behind you in the grocery line go ahead of you…you have way more stuff than he does.

Never has this become more abundantly clear than in the latest phase of the O.L.E. – Online Dating Experiment.  If you have ever done this, then you know what a colossal joke it is.  Take all the inconsiderate, full-of-shit losers in the world, round them up and put them in one place.  Yes, you can find your “diamond in the ruff” but you need to take the whole process for what its worth, go with the flow and not take it too seriously.  If you are really on a mission to find true love, you will get frustrated fast and start to feel like there is something wrong with you.  If you are cool with meeting new people, striking up interesting conversations and who knows – maybe find the love of your life in there somewhere, then it can be a fun experience.  For the most part, though, I’ve never seen “grown ups” act more like playschool morons in my life.  Our communication skills and manners really need some work at times, and don’t be surprised if people just suddenly fall off the radar and stop talking to you.  There is no explanation for any of it…that’s why I say go with the flow and have fun.

So yeah…there’s days you just go “fuck it”.  The remedy?  Get your ass home, disconnect from blogging, texting, emailing, surfing…whatever.  Go for a killer workout, have a hot shower, actually cook an awesome dinner, pour a nice glass of wine; just chill listening to music, reading a great book or actually having a meaningful conversation with that other life form living in your home.

Oh, and don’t be an asshole.  Karma forgets no one.

So tonight was our first girls’ night out in quite some time, and let me just clarify that the “Women’s Liberation” movement was not just one event in time…more like an ongoing process.  It is a constant state of evolution and self-discovery that has never been more evident to me than within the last couple of weeks. Against my normal convictions that I would NEVER venture into the world of online dating, I decided to take the plunge.  What have I got to lose, right?  Turns out nothing, but everything to gain…like a newly liberated self.  The jury is still out on what the end result of this little experiment will be, but suffice it to say that I have met some very, very interesting people and some downright losers.  No different than “real life”.  I consider this a daring sociological endeavor, and here’s the kicker.  I am not going into this looking for love in all the wrong places.  On the contrary, I am in this for the adventure, fun and freedom of it all.

Liberation you ask?  Yep.  Here’s how it works for me.

I have spent my entire adulthood (and then some) giving myself to relationships.  I have always been a one-man woman and love being in a relationship, and I have had some great ones and some not so great.  Each one has taught me something about life, love, men and most importantly…myself.  The end result?  I am friggin’ exhausted.  Jump, dive, plunge, love, accommodate…that’s me.  I give everything to a relationship, whole-heartedly with the only expectation that I will get the same effort in return.  So far, I am o for…well, a lot.  The light bulb has gone off for some reason and I’ve decided that there is no point in wasting time living in the past and missing something that it turns out is not worth missing.  I have no regrets, but now is the time for a  new leaf to be turned.  For the first time in a year, I feel awesome, invigorated, and totally ready for some fun.  I have absolutely no room in my life for bullshit, and the games are a thing of the past.  With passport in hand, I will be taking off for a tropical destination (most likely Mexico…Playa to be exact) for some serious adventure.  That’s right…me, my treasure chest, and some very hot fun in the sun.  A gorgeous, amazing man would make it perfect.

For once, I am not going to let my heart lead the way, but instead my sense of adventure, desire, and quest for fun.  If something more magical and life-changing comes out of it, then bonus, but that is not the driving force.  I truly enjoy my own company, and would love nothing more than to share my life with someone amazing, but it does not define me.  I will pack over the holidays, wait for a last-minute deal and off I go.  I am telling all my friends the where and when of the trip and whoever wants to come along is more than welcome, but either way, I’m going.

To top it off, my friend “Loretta” (not her real name to protect her reputation) convinced me that its time for a shopping trip to stock up on all the things a single girl needs to be happy.  If I have to spell that out for you, then you should stop reading now.  This is a light that I never thought I would see, and believe me, that light is hard to find when you are searching for it in the depths of the darkest emotional moments of your life.  When you finally see it, the sense of liberation is mind-blowing.

I think I will definitely  have some great stories to tell at the end of this.  Let the games begin.

I had a whole bunch of “deep thoughts” that I wanted to blog about, but after having dinner with my dad and brother the other week (Mom joined us later and missed all the good stuff) and the riveting conversation that took place, I can’t resist but to share with you some of the “life lessons” I learned.  To preface this for you a bit, you need to imagine my dad in the best way I can describe him…

…Archie Bunker meets Fred Flintstone, toss in a sprinkle of Rodney Dangerfield and a wee bit of The Family Guy.

Ta-da!  My dad.

Now that we have the visual out of the way, let’s proceed with the lessons, shall we?  These are in no particular order except for how my brain is choosing to remember them.  At times I was laughing so hard I couldn’t see from the tears gushing out of my eyes.

1. The Canucks losing in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup final in 1994 was a conspiracy headed by Gary Bettman. He firmly believes no Canadian team will EVER win the Cup again as long as this man is in power.
2. It is perfectly acceptable to drive a vehicle that is part bondo, two different colours, and has a bumper held on with duct tape.
3. Each and every Canadian is entitled to grow and have in their possession up to four pot plants for personal use.  Its legal.
4. When asked why he doesn’t get a hearing aid since he can’t apparently hear worth shit, his response was “Why should I get a hearing aid?  I’ve heard enough in my life.  Come to think of it, I might just go blind too since I’ve seen everything there is to see.”
5. Figures if he is going to go deaf, he should get a little sign that says he’s deaf so when he gets pulled over by the police, he can let them lecture him for a few minutes while he stares blankly at them, only to flash his “I’m Deaf” sign, throw a couple of fake sign language gestures and then drive away.
6. Doesn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to bottle my own “hooch” (that is what I call his version of homemade wine).  Christ, all I need is a 2 x 2 space, a giant hillbilly jug and some rubber tubing.
7. Thinks every meal can be made using a toaster oven, and does not understand why I don’t have one.  Why would I want to use that giant, clunky oven for cooking anyway?

That pretty much covers what came out of that dinner conversation, and believe me, there’s  more where that came from.  I think I’ll make this a regular series here on The Lake House.  Who knows, I may get a show about nothing out of it

A shift in the weather from the super heat of summer to some cooler pre-fall temps seems to have ignited a bit of a shift in my emotional world as well.  Its coming up on a year (what?)  that my entire world changed…first for the better to be with the love of my life, THEN for the worse when I had to file personal bankruptcy and say goodbye to my home, life & puppy , then back to better as I journeyed East towards the Rocky Mountains and a  new, exciting life of opportunity and love, and FINALLY to a rapid descent into WORST when after only 3 weeks I was ceremoniously dismissed as girlfriend, best friend and 40-year plan.  No home…no furniture…no income.

Whew ~ that sounded really tiring.  I’m exhausted.

Hovering around worst for about 7 months, things started moving back up the charts towards better where they have manged to stay even or show slight glimmers of improvement.

THEN…

...just when you think its safe to tread the waters of the heart again, even a little, you find that bastard (we shall call him “Reality” ) slaps you back down and says “no, no…happiness is not for you – at least not yet”.  This confrontation with blasted Reality came after I had to say goodbye to my puppy Kozmo this past Monday.  He spent nine days here with me which seemed to fly by so fast, and as I was packing his things for his trip home with a friend (my friend Naomi, not one of his friends – dogs can’t drive; unfortunate) I found myself in the midst of a bawl-fest that I had not encountered in a few months.  On the floor, full-out sobbing like my world had just ended all over again.  When I was given the opportunity to re-connect with him again, I jumped in with both feet and whole heart – completely oblivious to that other asshole (known as “Heartbreak”) who was waiting for me at the end of the road.

The upside to this is that my heart (much like my other muscles) is on a 24-hour recovery timeframe which means I can rebound and actually function like a normal human being much faster than in previous months.  Since there is no protein shake for the heart, using my brain during the day was a distraction until Heartbreak (that fu**er) Nija’d me  & stabbed me right in the heart when I walked through the door to an empty house.

The lesson?  While I want nothing more than true love & happiness in my life, I’ve realized there are still small emotional sacrifices to be made & setbacks that will be encountered along the way.

I always seem to go off the beaten path to each destination.  Sure would be nice for the road to be paved for once.

During my time living in Port Alberni on Vancouver Island, I had the opportunity to hike the West Coast Trail.

Not once, but three times.

This most definitely remains the most difficult physical and emotional challenge that I have ever experienced.  The trail runs southeast along the west coast of Vancouver Island on a portion of what is known as The Graveyard of the Pacific which has claimed many ships and lives over the years due to the very unpredictable weather and rugged coastline.  My two eyes have seen some of the most beautiful beaches, forests, and scenery in British Columbia and the only way you can see this amazing place is on your own two feet, packing absolutely everything you will need to survive for an entire week or so.

No cars…no kids…no party animals with coolers, booze and boom boxes.

I have been hell bent on doing this trip one last time and had hoped to do that last year until my potential hiking buddy used his torn ACL as some lame excuse not to go   Then I thought I would give it a go in this Olympic year of 2010.  On my previous journeys (the last of which was 8 years ago), I had a very experienced and able-bodied partner/boyfriend/sidekick so it was all good.  I had a new sidekick lined up for this last trip, but apparently he had to have his holidays booked back in the year 1812 for the rest of this year, so he’s not able to experience the glory and torture with me – at least not yet.  This leads me to ask if this is something I should attempt to do on my own.  Let’s be clear about two things here – 1.  I have nothing to prove, and 2.  I am a bit chicken to try it all on my own. There’s that whole “I am woman, hear me roar” stuff, but I also like to think I am not a complete idiot (past choices in men not applicable here).  Call it an aversion to somehow falling to my death, getting sucked into the ocean never to be seen again (you remember Wilson, right?), or breaking a leg and being left to fend off the cougars, bears and wolves while I cling to consciousness and call out for my Mommy.  I would probably  just slather myself in peanut butter and hope that the meal is a quick one.   I have hiked this thing THREE TIMES and it is no longer about whether or not I CAN do it, but if I WANT to do it and relive the amazing, torturous, wondrous, life-altering experience that seems to keep drawing me back.  My preference would be to do it with a partner so that should I meet an untimely demise, someone is left to give me a proper burial at sea (okay, at the very least someone to share the experience with and drink with me at night by the campfire).

I shit you not – this is what it can do to a person.  Don’t believe me?  Watch the CBC documentary (posted below), keep reading and then see what you think smart-ass.

When I watch this video, I have to ask myself “why the fuck would I want to do this again”?  At about 5:30 in, you will see why.  It is a sordid, love-hate relationship with this trail and the places along its path.  If you really want to get to know someone,  especially a potential mate to spend eternity with, do this hike together.  This could possibly be the best pre-marital counseling you could ever ask for.  You have no choice but to really get to know what someone is truly made of.  You cannot hide anything on this trail.  Its probably also referred to as The Graveyard of the Pacific because this is where many relationships have met their demise.  Beaten against the rugged coastline and left to rot on the beach.  I can totally see it.

(BTW, the cable car across the river shown in this video is not all its cracked up to be. We ended up strapping on our all-terrain sandals and wading across after realizing we just didn’t want to do it again. Water was damn cold, but that cable car was a pain in the ass.  You will also note that the “fit” people on the trail had a hard time as well.  Totally different world when you strap on a huge pack and have to maneuver different terrain.)

This documentary looks as though it was done back in 2008, and the poor journalist guy has no idea what’s in store for him.  He is ready to pack it in after the first day, and believe me, I know where he’s coming from.  The only difference here is that we started on the HARD end first which is the Gordon River trailhead and worked our way back to Pachena Bay on the Bamfield end.  When you have never done this hike before, you have no idea what to expect, but thank God Danny did and made the suggestion to get the worst of it over with and end on a note of enjoyment.  It is the toughest thing I have done and makes doing something like the Grouse Grind seem like a stroll in the park.  The second time around, we did the same thing and believe me,  knowing what was in store was far worse than the initial unknown.  I like to equate it to knowing you are going to get ploughed into by a speeding train and there is not a damn thing you can do to get out of the way.  The third and final time, we figured we had conquered the trail in blazing fashion and had our harrowing tales of struggle and strife safely under our belts, so we decided to start out closer to home in Bamfield via a leisurely cruise down the Alberni Inlet on the MV Lady Rose.  After our traditional “last supper” at the local pub and the last comfortable bed for the next 10 days, we strapped on our gear and  hiked in about 55km of the 77km trail so we could strictly enjoy the beaches and spend a couple of nights along the way in our favourite spots.  Then we turned around and went back.  This made the trip 110km in total, but it is probably the way I would want do it again (or something along those lines – maybe even a bit shorter with more time to hang out and take pictures).  Quite frankly, I don’t care if I ever see the other end of that trail again.  Ever.  Mean it.

That being said, however, I would not trade having seen it for anything in this world.  Told ya it was a sordid relationship.

So, like Gerry McGuire once said:

who’s comin’ with me?

Well, its Hump Day and I am still thinking about the amazing weekend I had.  Me and my BFF had a very relaxing time lounging by her pool on Saturday while we hydrated with pitchers of Mojitos and capped it off with an incredible steak dinner.  Definitely expanded my “cheat meal” into a “cheat day” but it was well worth it!  I can’t remember the last time the two of us hung out and did nothing but sun tan, drink, talk about boys and everything else under the sun, and simply RELAXED.  Both of our lives are so hectic during the week and with her hubby out of town watching the drag races, we capitalized on the opportunity to have some girl time.  Sunday involved a bit of family visiting and then we were back by the pool (sans the alcohol this time) where we both felt like we should be doing something more useful with our time.  That silly thought lasted about 5 seconds and we were back in hang-out mode until about 6 pm where the reality of making dinner and getting ready for the work week slapped us in the face.

This weekend is shaping up to be one of too many choices.

I have an opportunity for a quick road trip to Calgary for the last of Stampede as well as a chance to hook up with “K” when he lands here at the airport on Sunday night before heading home.  There is also the fact that the weather has sucked here the last couple of days and summer is back in full swing for the next 5 days.  This means more pool time.  I am trying to figure out a way to do everything (as usual) so we shall see what happens.  I bought some new workout toys yesterday and am kicking my fitness routine into high gear in preparation for a weekend of debauchery in Kamloops in a couple of weeks (during which I may not see the inside of a gym), so I have to weigh the trip to Calgary heavily.  The chance of hooking up with my most amazing trainer are slim as he typically does not work during Stampede, but I will ask nicely and see what he says.  I also have to ask myself if I am ready to go back to Calgary and that answer still is not clear to me.

No matter how I slice it, the weekend will be very interesting to say the least.

I had a week of sideways-ness that I would like to call The 4 S’s of Sideways (I missed one of these on my most recent Tweet -)

sheriffs…steamed mussels…a strip club…and sports

My week has been a bit of a Muppet Show to say the least.  It has definitely reminded me why I tend to not go out during the week with crazy friends and stay out past my bedtime.  It makes you very tired for work and we are grown ups with responsibilities dammit!

Oh yeah…I was also reminded why wine should be consumed moderately when you are not used to drinking and that you shouldn’t add Southern Comfort to the mix.  Anyone who knows me knows that the mention of Tequila or Southern Comfort on my part is a great indication the night is going sideways and I am to be rounded up and sent home immediately.

Back to the story.

A very good friend of mine – (we shall call him K to protect his identity as he happens to be a sheriff) was in town all week with a couple of his equally crazy sheriff counterparts.  Seems we don’t have enough law enforcement in this town so we have to import them from other cities.  Tuesday night, we hooked up at McCulloch Station Pub which is minutes away from my office to have some food and drinks.  I enjoyed the steamed mussels which I highly recommend to anyone – delicious.  While we were there, we had the displeasure of watching the Celtics get spanked by LA in game 6 of the NBA final.  I don’t follow b-ball much, but I despise Kobe Bryant so was rooting for the Celtics.  He ranks up there with my extreme distaste for Roger Federer and Alexander Ovechkin.  After the pub, we decided to go seek out some action on a Tuesday night.  Something must be going on, right?

Wrong.

After checking out a couple of other fine drinking establishments only to find that there really was nothing going on, we traveled all the way down the debauchery food chain into the strip club.  How this part of the evening happened  is somewhat unclear to me at this point.

What a dead zone.

So dead in fact that I almost took it upon myself to provide some entertainment.  I decided this would not be the best use of my time nor earn me much money since there were like 6 people there including us.  Apparently things don’t get rolling until later, so we stayed for a drink and the guys got restless so we left and ended our night at the Cactus Club. It was located within stumbling distance for the guys back to their hotel, so seemed like a good place to finish off the evening and there were actual living, breathing people in there.

Since it was a very long day for me already, I decided to make it longer by staying out until about 1 am.  Not a fantastic idea when you have to be at work early the next day and then go train a client.  Thank God for the workout as it helped breath life into my weary body and mind.

Fast forward to Thursday night which was this month’s designated Girls’ Night Out at Original Joe’s.  At least once a month I get together with my BFF and our other friend (we’ll call her L to protect her already sullied reputation ;-0…she knows I am joking!) at OJ’s since its half price bottles of wine.

Hello…McFly??  Need I say more?

Anyway, we go there to eat salad, share a bottle of vino and dish about everything under the sun.  It also happened to be K’s last night in town, so after we ladies packed it in at the late hour of 7:30 pm, I headed back to say adios to the boys.  They were, of course, at the Cactus Club.

This is starting to feel like Groundhog Day.

Place was packed as we all glued ourselves to the unfolding drama of a very close game 7 of the NBA final.  Much to my chagrin, LA won and Boston needs to go home and learn how to not take fouls and actually put the ball in net.  Not that I care much, but its hard not to get caught up in a sporting event that is so close until the final buzzer goes off.

My time getting home was a much more respectable 10:30 pm whereby I managed to crawl into bed around 11:30 or so.  Friday’s are also an early day at work for me but my wine consumption was minimal which helped when the alarm went off at 5:30 am.

All-in-all the week was tons of fun, and it only went slightly sideways.  Had it not been for being a work night and the fact we were all tired, I suspect it could have been much, much worse.  It was nice to get out and hang out with some friends, make some new ones, and be around hot sheriff guys while enjoying some harmless flirting and tons of laughs.  Next get together will be on their home turf where I have been invited to spend a weekend and party with a whole bunch of sheriff’s.  I agreed to this little outing on the condition that it does not become some lame attempt to set me up with someone.  Relationships are off my To Do list for now.