This weekend my family embarked on out yearly Whistler ritual. Rent a condo (always different suits, but essentially the same three bedroom box with bad wall paper and a confusing entertainment system), snowboard/ski respectively, and go out for extravagant meals. We've never really fit in here. Maybe its because we're renters, maybe its my parents distaste for apres ski libations at Dusty's, or possibly just that we don't come up here at the same time as our friends, regardless of the reason, I have always felt mildly put off by Whistler. That could also route from this being my fourth year in a row where, despite good intentions, I haven't made it up the Mountain. First, it was putting on my skis to cruise down the 25 meters from our condo to the Creekside gondola, immediately slipping on ice and breaking my thumb. Next it was a fairly benign head cold (I have a hard time getting motivated at the best of times). The year after that I ended up staying in to study/eat consecutive avocados. Not to be outdone, this year I got the stomach flu and have spent the past three days vomiting out anything and everything I try to eat/drink. I actually ended up goign to the clinic where they instructed me to eat only bananas, rice, apple sauce, and Toast... also known as B.R.A.T.
Yesterday, after the requisite up-heave of my stomach I actually felt pretty great and decided to get my nails done.
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