Whistler Wonder

Now that Pie is asleep, and Doodles is steadfastly holding out till 9 p.m., I can tell you about my last trip to Whistler. All those images of Vancouver and Whistler in the coverage of the Olympic Opening Ceremonies (not the ceremonies, mind you; we're still in the "coverage" of the opening) really make me miss the West Coast. So beautiful. I miss the mountains and the rain (yes, really, the rain) and the lack of snow (although I understand that this winter has proven Seattle to be snowy). The coverage showed the Peace Arch and I spent a lot of time, sitting in my car, looking at that Peace Arch, cursing the freakin' traffic at the border. [Quick side note: the remake of "We Are the World" is on, and save Babs and Michael Jackson, why don't I recognize half of the people singing?]

Anyway, I was in Whistler. I was on a date. With this guy I had just started dating. We went on a mountain biking weekend with a bunch of his friends. Advice to you guys: Don't go on a mountain biking date with a guy you only started dating. I wasn't sure I liked him, I wasn't sure I liked his friends, I was pretty sure I didn't like mountain biking.

I had never been mountain biking before, and now that I'm a sporty gal, I realize that what we did wasn't really mountain biking. It was flying. Down a hill. On a rented two-wheel vehicle of death. The bumpy dirt path went straight down, and I rode my brakes the entire way. Not so fun. And really not so fun when my date when flying over his handlebars, lay on the ground in a bloody mess, with two chipped front teeth. We'd been dating for about three weeks. What was I supposed to do? Be the concerned girlfriend? I wasn't sure I could call myself a girlfriend. Brush it off, like, "Hey, it's all cool"? Did I coo? Get all worked up? Talk about stress! I decided the guy wasn't worth the hassle. I didn't need a bleeder. Besides, he was arrogant as all get out. At least Whistler was beautiful and the Bellinis I drank for the first (and last) time helped numb the pain of it all.

You know what? Sometimes I still think he isn't worth the hassle. But in for a penny, in for a pound, so I guess I'll just keep him.

(Happy Valentine's Day, Adam!)