New Job and Wine in pants

I am FINALLY gainfully employed. Got the perfect job, 8 month contract in a big company in downtown Vancouver. Good hours, 20 minutes door to door and just enough time there to work out what the hell I'm doing in 2011.

Soooooo many months of unemployment (ok only 3 but felt like forever) and I was beginning to think I would NEVER get a job. The drawn out interview process was painful and made me feel like I was being considered for  a job with the U.N. B is a Radiographer, he administers radiation to humans, he injects toxic dye into people's veins, he assists surgeons in operations and helps them locate shit. He arrived in Vancouver, called up the hospital closest to where we live and they hired him OVER THE PHONE. Oh this boy sounds like a nice lad, lets get him in tomorrow and hope he doesn't kill someone. No fucking worries.  So me, Graphic Designer, I just make words and pictures pretty, the closest I could come to killing someone would be to spill my cup of tea on them coming back from the lunch room while they have their finger in an electrical socket, not likely but possible. So for this job first of all I had to apply online, not just attaching a CV, but copying and pasting all my info into their online form, which is time consuming, takes a good half an hour and when you've applied for 1000 jobs like this you really do want to stab yourself in the eyeballs. Then I had to fill out an online questionnaire. Then I got called to do a telephone interview. Then I got offered a real life interview. I had the interview. I was having a really bad hair day. I thought for sure I didn't get the job. Who would hire someone with hair like this? But seems on this day, bad hair worked for me cause I got offered a 2nd interview. Then there are reference checks to be done. So much waiting! Such a PROCESS! Anyone would think I was going for a job as the CEO. Don't get me wrong, I am really happy to have been given this job, but B could kill someone and he got offered a job over the phone. Totally. Not. Fair.

Something else that is totally not fair is the fact that I discovered this item AFTER we went to the Sasquatch festival. 

Sasquatch! Festival. USA.

So we went to said music festival in the U.S of A, you can't take drinks in and bags get searched at the entrance, pretty standard. There was music and this scene was just screaming for a nice bottle of red to be enjoyed on the grassy knolls. So we put a whole bottle of red wine into 2 separate zip lock bags and B put one in the front of his pants and one in the back. Bit of a padded out man package and extra junk in the trunk, it was flawless. Once inside and set up on a grassy knoll we busted out the zip locks however there were a few security walking around and I wanted to be extra incognito, I decided to put our cups in B's shoes so as to camouflage the red liquid. Here is a pic of us looking completely innocent.

Just your average couple havin a drink from a shoe. Nothing to see here.

I mean, it was a great heist, but life would have been so much easier if I had of had the bad boy below, actually we would have been so much drunker as we could of doubled up then, Ben would have had a giant package filled with wine (every woman's fantasy) and I would have had me the cleavage I have been after for so long… One happy couple…

 The Wine Rack.

You can put a whole bottle of wine in this thing and there is a handy tube to put straight in your cup! And she looks so damn happy, as you would if you were sporting this bra. Look at my beautiful bazookas AND their ability to conceal this lovely bottle of red. I love this. It's on the birthday wish list.

RIP Original white onsie

You wanna see the original white onsie as talked about in my previous post? The one that B wore while teaching small children to snowboard on "Onsie Wednesday", when the ass blew out in them and small children saw his undies?

RIP Original White Onsie. 

B's bum is pooky, but not that pooky in real life. That is one tight ass onsie.

PS. How can one image make you love someone more and at the same time wonder why you love them? Hmm.

Smashin fashion on the slopes

My sister and her husband came to visit a few weeks back. Obviously, the first thing we did was take them out for a "Caesar" at a local bar, aptly named The Local.  For those of you fortunate enough to know what a Caesar is, its a purely Canadian concoction made from vodka, clamato juice and chilli, the glass is celery salt rimmed and adorned with, in this case, an olive, a mini stick of salami and a bean. What is clamato juice you ask? When I first heard this word I thought it was made up. It is not made up, it is for realz, and it is tomato juice mixed with clam juice. Clams, as in, from the sea. Those yummy bivalve molluscs usually consumed in a pasta or with white wine & garlic. In Canada they drink their foaming juice, mixed with vodka, in a cocktail. Gross you say? Hellz no. Clamato juice is yummy! Especially yummy when consumed in a glass shaped like a boot! 

Actually, this isn't the first time my sister has encountered a Ceasar. Before we left Sydney we had a party and made a few Caesars for our most treasured guests. Unfortunately we couldn't get our hands on any clams so B decided to substitute clams with mussels. Molluscs! They're all the same! So he foamed up some mussels and mixed up the most badass Musselato Caesar Sydney had ever seen. The day after the party, whilst out on our balcony, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what looked to be vommit in our basil plant. The party was good but it wasn't that good. On later inspection I found the dried, crustyness to be a Caesar! Someone had poured their caesar into my basil plant!!!! A few weeks later, my sister sneakily questioned if my basil plant had a recent, un-natural growth spurt. She poured her Caesar into my basil plant! Bitch! She confessed that yes, although the beverage was septic liquid, she was actually attempting an experiment where the strange ingredients in a Caesar would cause our herbs to grow out of control. Like hulk basil or something. She is dim a smart girl. But she was serious. Anyhoo, I made her drink another one, a proper one in Canada, in a boot. And she loved it.

 We took a trip up to Whistler for a day of skiing/snowboarding. I had no idea that the trip to Whistler would be so beautiful! We drove along the coastline and had views like this most of the way! So many islands that line the coast from Vancouver. I spent the whole time with my camera out of the window trying to capture the beauty. Landscape photography at 120 km/h isn't as hard as it looks! Got me some stellar shots and we didn't even waste a minute on the road.

This day of snow action was to be the last day of season for us and the day that THE onesie, was to be unveiled. I ended up wearing B's onsie from a few years back and Ben wore my onsie that I bought from the Salvos for $10.

Behold, the onsie.

Look at her, so shiny! So lavender! So cinched at the waist! She has gold lining btw. Plush gold lining. Mmmm comfy.

Why did B wear my onsie? Look into his crutch area. He is a snowboarding bullfighter in this one, and the lavender one was worse. It was to protect the future existence of our offspring.

B, who actually pioneered the onsie idea, having sported them for quite a few years on the slopes, first owned a crisp white onesie. He partook in "Onsie Wednesday" and taught small children to snowboard in it. Until one day, while teaching small children, the ass blew out, and small children saw his undies. RIP original white onsie.

During the search for excellent onsies, we came across some other choice pieces. Some for the low price of $2! So, as my sister and husband were not planning to hit the slopes, they had nothing to wear. But don't worry, we had them sorted. And we had something very special planned for my sisters husband. Now, you have to understand something about my sisters husband, he is damn good fun, but out of the 2 of them, my sister is the more outlandish one, she is the one more likely to enjoy embaressing herself, and he more likely to sit back, glass of Gewürztraminer in hand and mock laugh at my sisters antics. So we were quite shocked that he agreed to wear this:

Behold the brightest 2 piece you'll ever see on a man unless you time travel back to 1983. 

And not only did he wear this, he wore it with style. He strutted around the slopes like he had been wearing blinding pink pants his whole damn life. B & I thought our onsies would be more popular, but in the ski village, it went like this, (true example); Someone saw me and exclaimed, "sweet onsie" then they see B, "oooh, man onsie, sweeeeeeeeet"  THEN they see my sisters husband and they scream "WooHooo. WINNER!" 

My sister was not wearing anything outlandish, she got the bottom of the barrel outfit. She did enough on the slopes to embaress herself with her skiing style. She's ballsy, I'll give her that, she did try a "jump" encouraged by B and then fell big. On her face. It was sweeeeeet. 

In Canada my hair doesn't have low self esteem.

When I was living in Australia my sister stayed over one night and while she was having a shower she shouted out to me "Jesus Christ, your shampoo has low self esteem!" She was right, my shampoo did have low self esteem, it was for "normal, dull and lifeless hair"! My poor hair! Normal could be a good thing, but teamed with adjectives such as dull and lifeless, normal means boring, and normal ain't good. And the other thing was, after using this shampoo for a long time, my hair actually liked it, but would my hair EVER not be dull and lifeless, shouldn't prolonged use make my hair shiny and bouncy? This shampoo was taking me for a ride. I would never break free of this psychologically abusive relationship.

In the end, all I needed to do was move to Canada. Here, my hair is free, my hair is happy and no one is talking smack about my hair.  In Canada, the same version of my shampoo, is for "normal hair that needs body". Well that's a little nicer, normal, but with just a little bit o body. Throw a bit of that Canadian optimism into it! Advertising that doesn't drive you to drink! My hairs feels so much better about itself now.

And Canada is so gay friendly! They even have milk especially for homos! I love homos, so I always make sure I buy this milk. And every morning when I get the milk out for my cereal I say "Yay for homos!"













It's not cold yet, but when you are not used to fashion in sub zero temperatures you have to keep an eye out for interestings items. This is on my fashion "wish list" for 2010. I found this on the internet but can't seem to find where to buy it!? Maybe I need to learn how to knit. I must have this!

So many of my friends are pregnant right now, when looking for interesting gifts online I came across this gem.

You CANNOT sit there and tell me this doesn't look like the comfiest, happiest baby you've ever seen. And Mums looks happy too! Everyone wins! Don't you just want to smooch this little alien right on it's freaky white forehead?? I sure do!

Craigslist

The biggest north american discovery so far has been craigslist... pretty sure it exists in Sydney and Spain but it seems to be bigger here. I am mildly obsessed with the "free" section and love looking at what goodies people want to get rid of. It's especially good as it seems, like in Sydney, the city charity stores here charge crazy prices for crappy second hand goods. Just cause it's pre loved don't make it an antique people, or retro, or worth more than you would pay for the same thing new in shops. My previous list of salvation army bargains was from a suburban store, where you could still find plenty of bargains. Any store closer to the city seems to be run by people smoking crack and their prices are completely whack (rhymes). But now that we live here, and are without car, furniture at the suburban salvos is out of the question. Yes I live near the city, but I am still poor, and only here for a year or so, and Craigslist "free" has become my new live in lover.

Sometimes craigslist can turn against you. This happens when your boyfriend finds a "free" TV that is so large, so ugly and so offensive to all your senses, yet he thinks it's cool. Then one day when you are out trying to get a job to feed the family, he goes and gets it, and when you get home it is there, hurting your eyes and confirming that any coolness you once had is now obsolete. I present you, the TV.

Yes that's me standing next to the TV so you have an idea of size. Yes the remote control next to the nintendo is the same width as my head. Yes that is an old style nintendo, with super mario bros that we actually paid money for, cause apparently nintendo is retro and you do have to pay for that shiz, but it's cheap entertainment. Yes that is me in a onsie 80s ski suit, looking pretty proud of myself cause $10 for that thing was a serious bargain.

Probably the worst thing about the TV is the fact that it doesn't actually work unless you are playing super mario bros. Seems that when B got the thing home, turned it on, there were no channels, and then some Canadians tell us that you don't get free TV! You have to pay for cable TV along with your internet. Well, we don't actually watch much TV and really only wanted the thing to play super mario bros. So we won't pay for TV cause we hardly watch it, but then what is the damn point of having such a giant TV I ask you? There is no point. And B is better than me at Mario, and I am a sore loser. Stupid TV.

Canadians are so damn nice!

I don't think I've ever been anywhere where you encounter such random acts of kindness on such a regular basis. Most of the countries I've travelled to people are mostly pretty friendly, but Canadians, well, they win the nice race. From day 1 things have been happening that make me go, wow, that's really nice! Crazy nice strangers!

When we arrived in Vancouver we were going to stay at B's friends place, she wasn't going to be home till that afternoon so we made our way slowly over to her place, with our mountain of baggage. B had a suitcase on wheels, 1 giant snowboard bag about 2metres long on wheels, and carried a backpack, camera bag and a manbag* on his body. (*man handbag) I had 1 giant suitcase, 1 large suitcase, 1 sml suitcase (attached crazily by B, god knows how, to the lrg suitcase) and a backpack. We really pushed our baggage allowance and so in total we were carrying approx 60kilos each. Yes this is alot of baggage. As we were walking it started raining. Seconds later a guy and his Dad pull over in a big van, "You guys are crazy, those bags look heavy, can we drop you wherever you're going?" I wouldn't normally accept a lift from strangers but they looked completely sincere, and I knew it would be fine. 70 yr old dad even helped lift the bags up! They left us with a little "Welcome to Vancouver!"  So nice!

Money is tight, well tight for us who never really want for anything, so after food shopping one day and B says to me, "wanna spend our last $12 on a bottle of wine?" and I say "hell yeah!"  we go into a bottle shop. This bottle shop was a little bit more posh than we've seen and everything seems way out of our price range. The salesperson asks to help us and we say, we'd like a local bottle of red for $12 or under... and we show her, our last $12. (God we are such deros!) So she proceeds to point out her favourite bottle of local red, which she says is delicious, but as it is out of our budget she will knock the price down to $12 just so we can try it. So nice!

Cars stop for you so you can cross the road. I'm not talking about at lights or crossings, where they have to stop anyway, I'm talking about normal roads, the cars just stop in the middle of the road if they see you want to cross and they let you pass!  Even if there are cars behind them, and the cars behind don't even bip them! It's such a nice feeling to not have the cars rule the roads so much! So nice!

Bus drivers are nice, they say good morning to you. If there is a customer service misunderstanding people say, I'm sorry, it must have been my fault even though the blame may be unclear. People apologise for not knowing if I am from Australia or New Zealand (I say "hey don't worry, you sound American to me!). The Ferry people open the doors for people with bikes. The greyhound bus guy gave us student rates without even asking!

And... the buses also cheer for the Canucks. (Vancouver ice hockey team currently in the playoffs)

Seriously people. This is one nice country! Yay Canada!

Real Life Vancouver

So here we are in Vancouver, staying in temp accomm in a share house. Which is actually quite good. It's really cheap and we can stay here as short or as long as we like. The other people who live here are never in the house and when they are they stay in their rooms (we must stink!) and no one cooks except for us so the kitchen is ours ours ours! It has fast wireless internet connection and it's perfect for interim accommodation.

We wanted to move in to our own place eventually, and after only a day looking in the area we want, we found a place we liked. The actual apartment is pretty ghetto, (faux wooden cupboards in the kitchen and a lavender colored toilet) but there is a balcony off the lounge room which has views of both the whole city of Vancouver as well as the surrounding mountains.

Not the actual view from our apartment, we haven't moved in yet. but it's close enough minus the water. City & mountains...pretty!

So we put in an application and as we don't have jobs yet, they accepted, but on the condition we pay 2 months rent + security upfront. We really wanted this place so we said yes, even though this absolutely wipes us out money wise and means we have to get jobs asap. The pressure is on. Oh and the other thing, it's unfurnished, so somehow, with no money, we have to make the house livable. All apartments here come with a fridge and a laundry room with washer & dryer, so thank god for that. We will eventually land jobs, we are sure of it, but we accepted the fact that all our initial furniture would have to come from the Salvation Army (Salvos in aussie speak) and that we will have to live like mini squatters in our own house. We are quite looking forward to living like squatters. I love me some novelty home livin.

So in preparation for the squat house we have been frequenting the local Salvos to pick up some cheap stuff for our new place, as unemployed people we really have nothing much else to do and this is the highlight of our day. We have vowed that until we get jobs we won't buy anything expensive and will make do with what we find. This is a good idea in theory but have you ever been to a Salvos? There is so much cool shit there that isn't always what you "need" per se. Also B and I have never really been known as being the most sensible people in the world, nor have we been known for always spending our money "wisely". So this is a list of all of the items we now own for our new house. Keep in mind that we arrived with only suitcases filled with clothes and snowboard gear.

1. A foam mattress. A little bit moldy (given to us by B's friend)

A few things we bought when we thought we'd get jobs in 1 day and before we realized we were very poor.

2. sheets
3. quilt
4. quilt cover
5. pillows
6. 2 towels
7. 2 forks (no one said you can't use a fork as a spoon)

Sensible you say, yes we are quite sensible. Read on.

8. expensive chef's knife*

*B loves to cook, if there is one thing that makes him furious it's cooking with blunt knives. We are poor, and B convinces me that we need to buy a chef's knife in order to survive. I am easily convinced, I too hate cooking with blunt knives. So we buy a chef's knife. Japanese made, Damascus steel. It's amazing. "It's our last luxury purchase!" we say, sensible from now on. Seconds after using the knife for the first time, probably because he has been used to using blunt knives, B slices his finger open, I swear, literally the first cut of the blade was the carrot the second was his flesh, there was blood, it's was a deep cut from a good knife, we turn the share house upside down looking for bandages/anticeptic cream/band aids, there is nothing. We then have to wrap the finger up and walk to the late night pharmacy and spend money that we don't have, on bandaids and cream. $15. We could have bought cups with that! Damn knife!


Then we started going to the salvos. These are our newly acquired possessions.


9. retro orange plastic measuring cup
10. cool square measuring cup
11. cool retro blender
Yes that's right, not one but 2 measuring cups, and the retro blender also has measurements on it's side, so in fact we have 3 recepticals that can measure quantity.

12. Small enamel saucepan made in romania, and I mean small, it's one of those cute mini ones you use for boiling milk or making sauces and has the little spout on the side.

13. Wooden wine rack we cannot afford wine yet

14. Ice skates with purple glittery blade protectors. What? They fit like Cinderella's glass slipper! They were hardly worn! I have ALWAYS wanted my own pair of ice skates! No more daggy blue rental skates like at the Blacktown Ice Rink for this gal, my very own shiny WHITE ones!

15. Pink & Purple checkered Italian suit jacket  Seriously, B bought this when I wasn't with him. "It's cool!" he said, "It's Italian" 


Wish me luck that job luck comes to me soon... we've gotta stop going to the Salvos.

Rockin Rockies

Starting in Calgary, the plan was to enjoy a bit of the end of ski season and teach me how to snowboard. B is a pretty good snowboarder and has worked in a couple of different Canadian resorts teaching snowboarding for 4 of the past 5 winters. In preparation he bought me a rockin new Burton snowboard which is so damn pretty but at which I curse expletives as I tumble down many a small hill. I want to know how to snowboard, but I want to already know how to snowboard, learning is so damn tough. I've hit my head (the new helmet has already paid for itself, brain damage no thanks) numerous times, sometimes questioning if I was unconscious but then reaslising if I was I probably wouldn't question that. I'd just be saying, What? Where am I? Who are you? Why do I have this strange board strapped to my feet? Why aren't I at the beach? I've slid across snow on my ass and on my knees. I've fallen flat on my back. I've fallen on my arm. I've fallen where my body is somehow alongside my snowboard and my knee twisted in an alarmingly un-natural position. And this is supposed to be "fun" and I am supposed to be on "holidays".

B pretending to be a human bobsled on the track at Calgary Olympic Park home of the 1988 Winter Olympics.

Ben has been a very patient teacher and I have been a very patient learner. You can see why couples would blow up on the slopes.

Boy says to girl. "Lets have a "holiday" in the snow, I'll teach you, it will be "fun". 

Girls says, "Will there be daiquiris and a chance to tan?"

"No" says the boy "but give it a go".

Then girl is hitting her head on something that looks like marshmallow but feels like concrete not once, not twice, but oh about 50 times per day, and flailing about like a newborn calf. There is no energy even for daiquiris at the end of the day and the only tan you get is between your cheeks and your chin. But I am determined, I will learn this god dammit, and I will enjoy it, and I will look cool on the slopes and I will drink schnapps in the lodge after and smile and say "It's nice out eh". Not yet. But I will. It's only going to take a bit more practice and possible serious injury. That's all.

Next stop was Golden, staying at a friend of B's new log cabin. It was absolutely amazing, made entirely of giant logs from Saskatchewan, it has giant windows and overlooks the rockies and is surrounded by big beautiful trees. It's a short drive to Kicking Horse Mountain Resort, where we continued operation steasy* snowboarder. Unfortunately "operation steasy" lasted not even 1 run.

The first run of the day was pretty average, you get up off your ass (which isn't as easy as it looks btw) you start to pendulum (beginner speak) down the slopes, your boyfriend screams "head up!" "hands over the board!" "GET THAT ASS FORWARD" fun holiday time for all, then you stack it.


It's so funny when beginners fall. (hilarious). We just lay there, on our backs, in star position, arms and legs flayed out, just laying there. Not sure why, not sure what we're waiting for, sometimes this can be for a couple of minutes, waiting for a sign maybe, some sort of sign to continue, waiting for the dizziness to subside or the sharp pain running through the coccyx to go away. Anyway, this is our time, we need this for reflection and to gather our thoughts, to get the will to get up and start again.

The rocky mountains, how can you be so pretty yet so evil at the same time?

The mountain, no problem, the mountain can do what it wants to me, but the chairlift, oh how I hate the chairlift. The enemy of every beginner. Why is this part so hard? Essentially it's just like getting up off a chair, except the chair moves, and the chair pushes you, whether you are ready or balanced or not, it pushes you down a short but icey slope, right into the path of 1. people with sharp poles 2. a fence or 3. a wall of snow. It seems to create the kind of chaos only seen at a wedding dress sale and you are more likely than not to fall dramatically into an un-natural and painful position. And to top all that off, you must get up and get away quickly or you will suffer the wrath of the impatient liftie or worse, be crashed into by other angry, frustrated beginners. It's a recipe for disaster I tell you. And it's not funny. (unless you are watching other people do it safely in the distance.) So this is what happened to me, on the second run of the day, I exited the chairlift, lost my balance, fell over, I did a ninja roll, my board did not. I felt my knee twist, I screamed* (*B said I squealed like a pig about to be slaughtered) and lay there, then I said ow ow ow about 5000 times. I crab walked to to side to get out of the way, the liftie got me a blanket and called ski patrol. I was to go back down on the mountain, not looking steasy, but on a ski patrol toboggan. For years, when I saw a ski patrol go past, with the toboggan behind them, with a body in a bag, I used to think someone had died on the mountain and they were bringing their body back down. It looks so creepy. But they strapped my leg up to a wooden board, put me in the little boat, tied me up, all I could see was the sky out of my goggles and the feeling that we were going very very fast. It was so much fun! A definate plus to a fucked up knee! B told me the story of a friend who fell while skiing and she broke 7 ribs, she was picked up by ski patrol who started to take her down the mountain and during the trip something went awry (all signs point to dodgy ski patrol guy) and her toboggan flipped 5 times! And she had broken ribs! Ouch! Luckily this story was told to me afterwards! So my knee was looked at, just a sprain, no more snowboarding for me for a couple of weeks… Kinda happy to give my lil lo body a break.

Very wet ass, from falling so much at the beginning in Calgary on the bunny hill. I heart snowboarding, yeah, like totally.

Next stop Vancouver, where real life begins. Jobs, apartment etc. Looking forward to discovering my new city!

Oh Canada! Oh Saskatoon!

On arrival at Saskatoon airport it was clear we "weren't from around here". Coming from 35 deg and sunny in Sydney, after a 16 hour flight via Vancouver, we were in T Shirts and comfy floppy pants, as everyone prepared to leave the plane, out came some pretty hardcore looking coats/hats/scarves which made Ben and I look at each other and say, um, "Do you think it's cold out there?" We were in T Shirts for god sake! It was minus 10 degrees outside! Holy crap it was cold! We were met at the airport  by my friends Kristie Anne and Lia, both Saskatoonians and both suitably dressed, I was in ballet flats and on exiting the airport I shrieked when snow got inside them. There was snow everywhere! So pretty! Snow in people's front yards! Snow on the side of the road! Snow on the lake! As soon as I got in the car, Kristie Anne told me to flick the switch along side of the automatic window switch to activate the bum warmer! WTF! In seconds my ass was toasty warm! I love this place! So we stayed with my friends Kristie Anne (who I studied spanish with in Sevilla in 2003) and her husband Terri at their giant house. Gotta love having friends that have their shit together and let me stay in their comfy digs!

After much consideration as to what typical Canadian things they would introduce us to we first went to a local ice hockey game, I took some red wine in a "to go" cup to keep warm (excuse) and we saw teenage Canadians slam each other into walls and try to trip each other over with their hockey sticks, fun times.



Terri is from a small town outside S'Town called Wakaw and his parents, who still live there, have the keys to the local curling rink. I'd never even heard of curling before the last winter olympics and I unfairly exclaimed that it was the most ridiculous sport I'd ever seen. So when the opportunity came to play it, when you can normally only get a game if you're affiliated with a curling club, I had to take it up. It was damn fun! But so freakingly bizarre, kinda like bowls, on ice, with a giant marble stone thing* to toss down, and you have to do it while sliding on the ice on one knee. The weirdest part however is that people on your team, run in front of the giant marble stone thing as it slides down the ice and can heat the ice in front of the marble stone thing by scratching these broom type things in front of it to make the marble stone thing slide faster. You also have to wear special things on your shoes. One thing called a slider and the other a griper. Obviously one makes your feet slide and the other grip to assist in a weird type of walking on the ice. I am sure you'd get used to it but I was all over that ice like a newborn calf.

*marble stone thing - correct professional description   

After curling, Terri's Mum made us chicken soup and there was a knock at the door, it seems Terri's parents had spread word out that there were some aussie's in town and Ed was here to take us skidooing on the lake! Ed was wearing a lumberjack jacket and had his skidoo on a trailer and was ready to rock, so were we, we drove out to a frozen lake, which he assured us was still 40 inches thick, he dressed us in some ridiculous skidoo suits. Ben looked like a beekeeper and I looked like I was about to be shot out of a canon, I do love that helmet though, pretty cool. We were let loose on the ice alone, we rode together and Ben got the skidoo up to 95kms/h and we were flying across the lake, at one point being chased by a pointy toothed dog! When it was my turn to drive I got it up to a crazy pills 20kms/h! It felt fast! After we couldn't feel our faces from the cold it was time to head home and Ed offered us some whiskey from his hip flask he kept in his jacket pocket, that shit sure warms you up as promised, as it burns down your throat. yum yum.



above: Ha! B looks like he is a beekeeper. I laugh everytime I look at this photo. 

In Saskatoon we also spent a night drinking spiced rum (note to self, 2L between 3 people is too much) with a snowboarding buddy of Ben's called Mark over in the ghettos of Saskatoon, we ate, we drank spiced rum and we played rock bank where I was reminded that I should never be in a band, virtual or otherwise as I have no musical skills. what.so.ever. The next day we went to Mark's Mum's house in the country for lunch where there was more food and some dirt biking (why don't these people want to stay inside??) and after discussing our plans to travel on a Greyhound bus later that evening to Calgary, they all told us about an incident where a schitzo guy was traveling on a greyhound bus and chopped another passengers head off. Seriously, that happened. In the same province, and not too long ago. Great.

Anyhoozle, said bus trip has been completed and we are alive. Loving Canada, it's freakishly friendly people, the bum warmers and the crazy amount of sugary lollies at convenience stores.

Right: I look like I am about to be shot out of a canon. I love this helmut!