Your opinion counts!

I was approached at the gym this morning by a woman who was curious to know what I was training for.

I kept my “not to get fat” comment to myself and instead said I worked out so intensely (ha!) because I enjoy it.  Which is true on most days… but not always, and certainly not today.

But for the rest of the workout, I was thinking about what I could be training for.  This wasn’t the first time I was asked, after all.  I should at least have an answer prepared.  

The best I could come up with was Olympic Fork-Lifting.  As in the lifting of one’s fork with one’s hand to one’s mouth for the purpose of feeding oneself.  Not the operation of a forklift.

Maybe you could help.  Any ideas on what I could be training for?  I spend so much time getting beefy that I might as well attach a goal to it.  Cyborg is doing a triathalon later this year, but I’m not sure if that’s for me.

I am vetoing high jump, for obvious reasons.

Remember, your opinion counts!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

That’s right.  Back to-school shopping time!  

According to Staples, at least.

Funky pens, flower-shaped reinforcements, splatter calculators…  How’s a girl to choose?  (Even if I’ve been in school since the beginning of the year.)

I’m just a little unclear about their looseleaf paper with a “Low Price Guarantee,” which is featured in their latest flyer.  

What’s a “Low Price Guarantee”?  It’s not a low-est price guarantee, which seems to imply that Staples will not beat competitor’s advertised prices.  

So what constitutes a low price?  Who sets and enforces this?  

And why so vague?!  I need to know so that I can avoid going back and forth between multiple school supply retailers to save $0.05 on a pack of 200 sheets of 8.5″ x 11″ ruled looseleaf paper!  

I am indeed Mama Bear’s daughter.

And now, the good…

I should make an obvious addition to the list of items to bring to next year’s Pemberton Festival: TDH.

Besides being an eyeful of candy (yum!), my knight in shining – sweaty, shirtless – armour saved me from the crowds.  And most importantly, he put me on his shoulders for the shows, allowing me to actually see the artists perform.  I’m so lucky he’s big and strong!  This really made the whole experience, which otherwise could have been simulated at a designer sample sale with a live concert DVD blaring in the background.  

TDH was also extremely useful as chauffeur.  The winding Sea-to-Sky Highway is unforgiving even on a good day; add many heaping cups of hours-long waits, a dash of other drivers’ impatience and inexperience, a tablespoon of late nights on little sleep, and some inclement weather (optional), and one could easily have a recipe for disaster.  But not under TDH’s watch.  There’s no one I’d trust more to take care of me and our dearest.

The most hilarious non-musical moment occurred at the front of the line into the Bacardi B-Live tent, where security instructed me to throw away my open water bottle in case it was alcohol.  If they knew me, they would’ve let me in with my water!  But rules are rules.  So I had to chug a nearly full water bottle in front of the watchful crowd.  (Being Mama Bear’s daughter, I wasn’t about to waste it.)  My pounding back of the water drew chants and cheers.  Of course, I had to swallow part of the bottle down the wrong pipes, resulting in an irritated cough, which only added to the illusion that I was indeed putting away my alcohol.  

Look at that little girl who can hold her own!

We took in many of the shows on the main stage, with highlights including Nine Inch Nails, The Tragically Hip, N.E.R.D. and Coldplay.  Despite knowing recognizing just three NIN songs, it was remarkable to see the crowd reciting Trent’s every word.  It hardly mattered that an act like N.E.R.D. took to the stage almost an hour late and had no idea where they were, referring to Vancouver in their initial greetings.  Upon being told that they were in fact in Pemberton, they nonchalantly shrugged off their error and instead proceeded to greet Canada as a whole.  Classy.  

Coldplay showcased its seasoned performance abilities and interacted with the crowd in an impressive set that incorporated sing-along classics and new material.  It was surreal to witness an acoustic version of my fave Coldplay song, the Scientist, played from a raised platform in the middle of the crowd.  What a way to cap off an “epic” weekend of fantastic music.

However, my favourite act was Jay-Z, whose energy emanated into the crowd for his longer-than-expected set.  Hova really spoke to me when he said to get that dirt off my shoulders.  I guess he assumed that we would figure out to do the rest of the body, too.  

I spent a lot of time on TDH’s shoulders, dancing above the crowd – fully clothed.  Jay-Z gave shout-outs to the girls in the crowd who went topless.  I wanted a shout-out too!  But TDH wouldn’t let me, even though he was topless himself.  How unfair.  

I’m just glad TDH didn’t brush that dirt off his shoulders when he was holding me up.

Pemberton not for the faint of heart

So much to say about the past weekend, but I’ll give you the shocking bad news first:

A health retreat the Pemberton Festival was not.

Just four days away nearly wiped me out.  But I’ve now compiled a list of things to bring to next year’s festival!  

• A mask.  So much for virgin lungs.  Dust and smoke – of all varieties – filled the air, especially on the first day.  Not sure about you, but I prefer not to sneeze molasses.  Saturday morning was all headache and sore throat for me.  I appreciate clean air so much more now.  The dust also managed to encase my feet in grey concrete, though I’m expecting them to return to their natural state once this round of skin sheds off.  But I must admit I enjoyed the cheap dirt tan on my arms… until it washed away unevenly. 
• Toilet paper.  Girls just can’t shake dry effectively.  (I hope you’re not eating right now, but I have to report on the decrepit state of the portapotties, which of course became progressively more vile over the course of the festival.  And I’m sharing this despite expecting the worst.)  
• Body armour, particularly steel-toed shoes and a helmet.  There were more than a few occasions where I was seriously in danger of being crushed in the crowds.  (Thank goodness for Chef TDH!)  I was even blindsided by what seemed to be an angry, 400-pound gorilla but turned out to be a clueless, highly intoxicated… full-figured woman.  Then there was the time when what could easily have been her twin brother not only stepped squarely on my flip-flop clad foot but outright refused to move it when I punched him in the back and cursed him to the best of my abilities.  This futile plea to have him show some mercy resulted only in a comment was that he had nowhere else to put it.  I also took an elbow to the face, from which my jaw is still clicking.  This doesn’t even count the many times I was trampled by the mob and left to die.
• A sign that says, “Line starts here.”  Shuttle lineups definitely showcased the ugliest side of the human race.  Complete anarchy.  Even the RCMP had a hard time controlling the lineups.  The bus would just pull up to the general area, and people would swarm both the front door and emergency exit.  Many of these “people” happily threw women and children to the ground in an attempt to make a shuttle that would sit idly for hours in the horrible traffic.  (On one of the nights, we chose to make the hour long trek down the dark and winding road from the festival site to the parking lot because this would be faster than taking the shuttle.)
• More water.  $5 for a 500-ml bottle is simply too much to keep hydrated.  Yes, there was an inconveniently-located water refill station, which was the only place you could wash your hands over three days.  This meant eating with dirty hands (did I mention the filthy toilets?) and never washing my fruit – wild behaviours in which I would never dream to engage regularly.  (I guess festivals will just do that to you.)  
• Jumping shoes and an invisibility cloak.  Not so much for being able to actually see the performers while listening to the music, but more for being able to get into the general area where the performers would be doing their thang.  You pay $300 for a ticket to the event, but that doesn’t guarantee you entrance into the tents where more than half the acts were playing?  There’s something very wrong with that.  So I figure a pair of jumping shoes will help me scale the fence, whereas the invisibility cloak will save me from being forcibly removed for my obvious disregard for rules.  What a rebel.  In disguise.
• Patience.  Not that it wasn’t somewhat expected, but traffic was awful.  You know the feeling of dying inside when you’re stuck in traffic and someone slowly waltzes by on foot?  The choice not to stay on the festival site and instead rent a place in Whistler had its advantages (Free-flowing water!  Modern plumbing!  Comfortable bed!), but it’s still hard to justify the additional 5 hours of commuting back and forth each day, not including the actual trip from Vancouver to Pemberton and back.  (Whistler to Squamish on Monday took 2.5 hours.)  But this afforded our carpool a lot of time to enjoy music from an iPod!

And soon, the good news…

I’m confused

I read an article in the paper today about new products that can fight the natural aging process.  A particular line of shampoos, conditioners, and styling products supposedly improve hair’s strength and shine and are “designed for people aged 44 to 62.”

With the anniversary of my birth just days away, perhaps you can fill me in on what will happen on my 63rd birthday so that I can purchase the most appropriate hair care products.

I’d like to be prepared.