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Tuesday, March 25, 2008

I am slightly obsessed about our upcoming trip to Vegas. And by slightly obsessed, I mean visiting the website of every hotel on the strip, and then finding menus to all of their restaurants to scope out the tastiest and most romantic fine dining available. I have also mapped out all the Quiznos and where to buy a case of beer to take to our hotel room that can be kept chilled in our bathroom sink from the free ice provided by the hotel. Because we’re classy like that.

Also on my mind is our plan to spend our mornings defogging our cloudy post Vegas night life heads by the pool and the inevitable wearing of a bathing suit that will ensue. I have this little number that I wore on my honeymoon in Jamaica. It's wickedly indecent, and clearly designed to hug and cling to pre-pregnancy, sylphlike curves. Today, it no longer looks so cute after two C-section’s and the pesky resulting WTF roll/bump thing above my scar. I’d love to be able to wear that bikini again though, and have started sharing my breakfast with Nate to cut back on the amount of food I eat in a day. Judging by the amount of bagel that he eats, I should be down ounces by the time we leave in June.

And now I must pretend that I did not hear the sound of myself baking a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies.

La-la-la. Visions of ~~cookies~~ wearing cute bikini dancing in my head. La-la-la.

~ - ~

Just this past week, Nate has taken a sudden interest in speaking. In addition to his two word lexicon of Mum-Mum and Dada, he’s suddenly all about the ai-yai-yai’s. I believe this loosely translates as, dear god woman, brush your hair already.

He can also now say mamoon (balloon), dug (dog) and hat (hat).

The most surprising thing to come out of his mouth though, happened the other night while Mark and I were watching TV. Nate has this annoying penchant for pushing buttons. And I don’t just mean those invisible buttons that kids push to grate on their parent’s last nerve. I mean the kind of buttons found on electronic equipment that have the potential to dial long distance to Tokyo and to turn off the TV at the exact same moment something very important is about to happen on Flip That House.

So, whenever Nate gets push happy, I say, “don’t touch”. This is usually met with a coyly rebellious raising of the eyebrows, which is immediately followed with him touching the button directly next to the one I just told him not to touch. Except the other night, instead of blatant defiance when I told him not to touch the buttons on the TV , he said, clear as day, “don’t touch.”

Mark and I looked at each other in complete awe, because it did not even sound like our kid. The tone of his voice was seriously stern and grown up, and if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was momentarily possessed by his mother.

Labels: Nate, Vacation

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What Happens in Vegas

Friday, March 14, 2008

It was the summer 2004 and Mark and I had been trying to conceive since just after getting married in September of 2003. With each passing month that my period arrived, despite perfectly timed sex according to my very normal 28 day cycle, 16 day luteal phase, I grew increasingly despondent and withdrawn. Having a baby consumed me.

In June, we decided to go on vacation to Las Vegas. We tried to plan it around my cycle, but we went away with another couple and the dates didn’t quite work out the way I wanted them too. Our week in the City of Lights would either greet with me a baby or my big stupid period.

Even though we were on vacation, I was still temping and charting, and when I woke up on day 29 of my cycle, I fully expected my temperature to have dropped and my period to have arrived. But Lo! That was not the case. My temperature 17 days past ovulation was still up. My heart fluttered with cautious hope and anticipation.

By evening, when my period had not yet arrived, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I walked into a CVS Pharmacy on the Strip, grabbed a test and approached the cashier to pay for it. The girl behind the counter looked at the pregnancy test, gave me a sheepish look, and rang it in.

“Good luck,” she mumbled as I walked away.

I can only imagine how that whole purchase must have looked in the self proclaimed City of Sin.

I took the pregnancy test in a public washroom at the Bellagio. It was negative. And that was exactly how I would describe my attitude for the rest of our vacation.

The next morning my period arrived, compounding my misery. There we were in a city of perpetual reinvention, distilled neon history, high rollers, night clubs and non-stop mind blowing entertainment, and all I wanted to do was sulk. Not even the majestic grandeur of the Grand Canyon seemed to mend my crushed spirit.

Mark and I always swore we would go back to Vegas someday. And that day will arrive in two months when we return to the Kingdom of Surreal to spend a full week lounging by lavish pools and swaying to the rhythm of sizzling Vegas nightlife.

This time, however, we’re going to do Vegas right. There will be no sulking, no big stupid periods, and no baby-making. Just pure, mesmerizing fun with some much anticipated unadulterated sex between consenting adults.

And it is very likely that what happens in Vegas will end up on this website in a much edited PG version.

2004 Vacation to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon
(UPDATE: Video by Mark)

Labels: Vacation, Video

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Vacation was absolutely divine

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

To capture those special memories of grandiose splendor, grandeur and greatness we hoped to create while on vacay, we opted to strike our best pose to symbolize all said anticipations.

While I dreamed of sun, fruity girly drinks, gourmet dining and frolicking in our jacuzzi, my husband clearly had his mind on other matters. But, I digress. We can’t always share the same values. The one thing we did share was an amazing holiday of over indulgence, intimacy and romance, and that is exactly what we hoped for.

To all the staff at Secrets Excellence, Mucha Gracias.

Check out those red faces!

Merry Christmas!

Cute until they go for the jewlery.

Baby Jesus was in the manger, and although I had no gold or frankincense to offer, I came bearing a bottle of Budweiser. That's gotta count for something.

Labels: Vacation

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Brrr

Friday, December 9, 2005

Adios Canada. See you in a week.

Labels: Vacation

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Taking flight

Tuesday, December 6, 2005

It’s that time of year again. A time when children mark the days off of their calendars in an earnest and frenzied anticipation of Santa's arrival, and a time when the adult folks swipe plastic and rack up exorbitant bills, all in a jubilant effort to tis the season and be merry and all that jazz.

This year the Cadeau family is doing up Christmas a little different. We’re leaving the country in a few days to visit somewhere where the humidity levels make no mistake in ensuring that we are no longer in the chilly climate that is Canada, and the booze is as free flowing as the steady stream of cars filtering into the mall parking lots in the final Christmas shopping hours.

I almost feel guilty (in a delightful and sinful sort of way), that I am done all of my Christmas shopping, have dropped yet another 12 lbs (amazing what grief can do for your prospects of fitting into a bikini*), have a fierce golden tan, and am ready to temporarily escape winter for a luxurious week in paradise.

Although highly anticipated expectations to visit the Mayan Riviera were literally washed away with the after effects of Hurricane Wilma, we managed to find a destination with equal elegance and charm where we can lavish and enjoy unending white sand beaches, enticing alcoholic beverages served out of coconuts, and bask in the warmth of a soft Caribbean breeze. I’m thrilled that our suite has a Jacuzzi for two and a four post king size bed available for fostering a multitude of fantasies that only a strictly adult resort could offer. There is a plethora of a la carte dining options and a seemingly quiet romanticism and seclusion that allows for me to do nothing but lavish attention on my husband and focus on getting a wicked tan. Stress will be limited to whether or not there is a drink in my hand to compliment the soothing and calming waves crashing upon the shore outside my bedroom window.

I am so lucky that such extravagance and lavishness will consume me in the not so distant future, particularly at a time of year when the spirit of giving and sharing is so important. I completely recognize my good fortune, and feel extremely privileged to be whisked off on a jet plane in a moments notice like this. I know that I am blessed for all of the opportunities in front of me, and whether it’s a bit of luck, some fierce investment savvy, or kick ass negotiating skills, I may never know, but what I do know is that I have the most supportive and caring husband a woman could hope for.

With everything we have been through, he has always been there, whether it’s just to hold me for hours on end, or offer a shoulder to cry on, he is my rock. His support is unending, and as a testament to his unrelenting devotion, he recently expressed much attention and 100% support in my efforts to pursue volunteer interests where I will bring no money, no investment potential and no financial security to the table. He did this with a genuine smile, complete trust, and a fun piggy back ride around the room that left me in a head spinning twirly frenzy while he clearly expressed his happiness and that I have found something to bring purpose and happiness to my heart while we move on after losing Ava. Together, we collaboratively decided on what is important in our life right now, and that just happens to be helping others. Job searches have ceased and endeavors of the heart are flourishing.

It’s been a long nine months since our devasting loss, and finally, life is beginning to take form and purpose again.

*No warranties are being made, express or implied that any weight loss has actually translated into an attractive figure if pictures ever become public knowledge after this holiday. Cesarean section moms can unite and vouch for me on this one. The vile surgery leaves the most despicable and nasty fat “bump” or “ridge” where abdominal muscles were sliced and hacked into while trying to retrieve our offspring out of our tummies. Any attempts to conceal or hide this disfiguration will, I am afraid, be futile.

Labels: Vacation

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A Weekend Away

Monday, October 17, 2005

There’s nothing like spending a weekend in the middle of absolutely nowhere with amazing friends at a cottage where there is nothing to do but eat, laugh and drink excessive amounts of alcohol.

The first task in realizing such fun is, of course, getting there.

The first issue is realizing such fun is that I am married to a man who, although not directionally challenged, essentially likes to find his way without directions, which basically translates into a painful journey of bickering and nagging.

As a woman imaging the conversation between him and his buddy decidedly planning our weekend, I pictured it to be something like this:

Rich: We’re going to head up to the cottage Friday afternoon and make sure the beers are cold.

Mark: (Thumbs up) Awesome.

Rich: You remember how to get there?

Mark: Yes, I am a male and I don’t need directions to drive down completely pitch black roads into the middle of nowhere for hours and hours where my cell phone won't have service. We’ll be fine, just make sure the beers are cold! I’m sure I will need one after getting lost and listening to my wife incessantly yell, nag and bitch about being lost, but don’t worry, I don't need directions.

And so the fun began....

Although getting from point A to point B seems simple enough, throw in unlit desolate country roads and a bitchy wife who wouldn’t stop nagging about the importance of directions and having to pee, and you’ve got yourself a bicker fest worthy of an Olympic gold medal.

Even after we finally arrived to our destination town, we still had no idea where to go. You would think finding our way would be simple in a town that is so small the liquor store is just a tiny little trailer, but needless to say, we were still lost. Finding a pay phone and requesting an escort to the cottage was all but we could do at this point.

We parked our butts right smack dab in the middle of the town and as we sat in the liquor store parking lot contemplating robbing the trailer and drowning our sorrows in a bottle of fine red vino, I couldn’t help but push one more button and ask Mark how he possibly couldn't know which direction we were supposed to go if he had opted not to get directions. “Something must look farmilliar," I bitched after suggesting heading south and leaving me the car keys on his way way to hell. His response was a loving hand on my knee and a sheepish “I Love You”.

Eventually our friends arrived to rescue us. Above their screeching tires and howls of laughter at our ridiculously retarded journey and how we managed to end it in the parking lot of a liquor store, they still managed to make us howl with laughter right along with them as they screamed out their car window, “Are you guys divorced yet?”

And so our weekend of excessive laughing, eating, drinking, gazing at calm lake waters, colourful fall scenery, the stars and hanging out with some of the best friend’s one could ever hope for began.

If only the light at the end of the dark tunnel we journeyed to get there wasn’t so blinding. I think all of our heads still hurt from the amount of alcohol we consumed.

Labels: Friends, Vacation

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Hola from Delaware

Monday, October 3, 2005

As I sit here, legs crossed, in a giant oversized leather chair at a giant oversized mahagoney desk in a sun drenched hotel room, I realized that I have seriously been missing in action in these days, but I have a good excuse.

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind past couple of weeks that suddenly have me sitting here in Wilmington, Delaware while my husband is on business. I also can't help but eagerly anticipate our next stop over destination in Washington, DC.

Yesterday was a fantastic 550 miles (885 km) journey to down I-81 through New York and I-476 through Pennsylvania all the way to Delaware. We left early Sunday morning after securing a rental car and made our way to the Hill Island Bridge, cleared customs, and entered into the powerful nation that is the United States of America.

I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of my surroundings as part of our drive took us through the stunning rolling scenery of the Appalachian Mountains. I have to admit, part of the fascination with our drive was noticing the differences south of our Canadian border. As a Canadian, I must share with my US friends the various differences that were noteworthy enough to stand out in my canuckle head mind.

Interstate Highways
US Interstate highways are remarkably well maintained.

Toll Highways are a new thing for me. The only pay highway we have in Canada doesn’t operate via tolls. You just simply drive on it, your license plate is photographed, and a bill arrives in the mail (or you buy a transponder to travel on it frequently).

The mileage listed on the Interstates is also interesting. The mile of highway you are driving on is always made available and there are markers that show what point in the mile you are at (2/10th, 5/10th, etc). Even more interesting was the help phones strategically placed every few miles or so along the road. You always knew where you were (i.e. 98 6/10th mile along I-81). What a neat (albeit tedious) idea to build into a highway system.

Getting used to distances being listed in miles was also different. A mile takes a heck of a lot longer to drive than a kilometer (especially when you're travelling hundreds and hundreds of miles).

Gas
Even with the exchange rate, at $3.00/gallon, that’s a steal! Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe, even with the conversion, we're paying about $4.00/gallon in Canada.

Another notable difference with highway driving in the US versus Canada is that we never came across any service stations directly off the highway. To fill up, we had to exit the Interstate and drive off into a nearby community to get gas. In Canada, we have service stations, located conveniently right off the highway, so you don’t have to actually exit the highway for gas.

Food
Unquestionably different. I remember the startling difference when we were in Las Vegas a few years back and have never forgotten. Portion sizes are humungous and much greasier that I am accustomed to. I managed to eat a quarter of my pasta dinner last night. It probably doesn’t help that I am one of the pickiest eaters on the planet, but can anyone explain to me why my dinner roll tasted like a donut?

Billboards and Broadcasting
I was somewhat stunned at the amount of Christian advertising on the radio and billboards. I have to admit, I have never seen a sign that says “Jesus is coming as lightning, are you ready?” I think it is absolutely wonderful that there is such a drive for a Christian community and way of life, but as a resident from one of the most multicultural cities in the world, with over 90 different ethnic groups and religious backgrouds, specific religious advertising just wouldn’t work and is unheard of.

The Best Part of Philadelphia
The major highlight of my trip will be meeting Kate. Yes, I have the amazing opportunity to meet another blogger. In a million years, I never would have guessed I would be meeting people that I have met through “blogging” in real life. I can’t wait. I am so very excited to meet her.

Labels: Friends, Vacation

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A journal entry: Friday June 17th, 2005

Thursday, July 21, 2005

I thought I would take a moment and share my journal entry of our first night of holidays back when we visited the Rocky Mountains in June.

Here is the entry from my journal:

Friday June 17th, 2005
We awoke this first morning of our vacation at the ungodly hour of 2:00am. Out the door by 3:00 am we felt like stowaways as we drove into the darkness of the night. There is something very relaxing about night driving. There are few cars or people to distract you, just the barren streets, and glow of the street lights. The yellow lines of the highway began to hypnotize me with daydreams of mountains, lakes, lovemaking and lovemaking near a lake in the shadow of a mountain.

Our destination was the airport, and of course, we arrived far too early for our 7:15 am flight. The shuttle bus from the parking lot dropped us off at the wrong terminal, and when we finally arrived at the correct terminal at 4:00 am, we discovered, much to our dismay, there were no coffee shops open. We had to wait until 5:30 to get our caffeine fix, and did we ever need it at that time of day!

To pass the time we snuggled up on the uncomfortable airport benches, Mark’s head resting in my lap, while I propped my feet up on my luggage. It wasn’t long before both of us became extremely uncomfortable, and decided to play a game of air hockey to pass the time. Mark showed no shame, and kicked my butt with a score of 7 – 2. We played a game of pinball and tried to save planet earth from an alien invasion, and in the sleep deprived state of mind I was in, I found that extremely amusing and entertaining. Before coffee, my mind works in very basic and simple ways, and it doesn’t take much to keep me engaged.

Suddenly my nostrils perked up at the delicious scent of coffee brewing nearby and we quickly abandoned our pinball quest to save the planet and made a beeline to find the largest size coffee available. I was ready to receive it intravenously by that point. It wasn’t Tim Horton's, but it was still a little piece of heaven.

At around 6:00am we decided to check our bags and go through security to wait by gate 227 for our flight. I always find the serious scowls that the security people have quite amusing. I had my laptop with me and although they didn’t ask me to turn it on, the woman did ask me if she could take some samples. Interested what that meant, I started to ask questions about what she was doing. Realizing I wasn’t harboring bombs in my laptop, she explained that she can check for trace chemicals. It was neat to watch her drag a piece of material across the computer and then have the fabric analyzed instantly by a machine. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me trying to imagine what trace elements the machine picked up. Visions of peanut butter stains, leg sweat from the computer resting on my lap and cat poo from my cats poopy paws walking over the keyboard didn’t paint a pretty picture in my mind.

The whole flying experience was quite nice. On no other occasion has the airport security, boarding, landing, and finding where we are going been so easy and painless. Welcome to Canada eh. We’re just a friendly bunch!

We found our way easily enough once we landed in Alberta from the airport to Canmore. It was about an hour drive or 105km (65 miles) from Calgary to our destination. As we drove into Canmore, Mark made sure to wave hello to his dinner. Alberta beef cows were plentiful. They waved and mooed their hellos back!

The drive into the mountains was somewhat uneventful and rather ordinary. The weather wasn’t overly cooperative and it was quite foggy. We couldn’t see the mountains until we were right in them, but WOW. Suddenly having a mountain looming over me left me breathless. I had a lump in my throat and it took a minute to catch my breath before I could speak. I even had to choke back a tear. AMAZING.

We arrived in Canmore at noon, Alberta time. We couldn’t check into the lodge until 4:00 pm so we explored the town, bought some groceries and a cheap foam cooler at the local home hardware (gotta keep the beers cold somehow). They laughed at me when I inquired about a Canadian Tire. Apparently Canadian Tire is too big for this little town with BIG mountains.

When we were finally able to check into the lodge we had booked for two nights, it was pouring rain so hard outside that you could barely see two feet in front of your face. Luck (or lack thereof) would have it that we were on the second floor, and the only access to our room was by stairs situated on the outside of the building.

Here is where the real fun begins.

Soaking wet from the rain, I was starting to plan a nice warm shower with Mark to warm ourselves up and then crack open a bottle of wine and just relax together. While he had the honours of unloading the car, I began to unpack and settle us into our room.

Packing wasn’t easy for this trip. My clothes aren’t exactly plentiful as I adjust to my new post pregnancy shape, and the few pieces that did fit were carefully packed into my suitcase. So was the massage oil. I opened my suitcase to find it had a particularly fragrant berry smell, before realizing the entire bottle of oil had drained and soaked into every article of clothing I had brought that actually fit over my recently pregnant hips. I wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry right then and there.

I immediately filled the tub with hot water in hopes of getting some of the oil out. Poor Mark arrived in our room, and seeing clothes strewn everywhere, and the hearing the bath water running thought I decided to get down and dirty right away. Excited, he tossed his hat (on the heater), and started to undress to join me in my “relaxing” bath. Imagine the poor boys immediate disappointment when I shoved him out of my way in my panic to get all the oil stained clothes into water and screeched that ALL MY F*ING CLOTHES ARE RUINED! He tried to make light of the situation and suggested that we could spend the entire vacation between the sheets so we didn’t need any clothes, but I was having none of his humour. I was upset.

Being the level headed man that he is; he braved the pouring rain and went back to the lobby to inquire about laundry facilities. While I was frantically scrubbing my clothes with the ridiculously tiny bottle of cheap hotel shampoo I suddenly smelled something burning. Looking up, I saw a faint haze of smoke. I dashed out of the bathroom and discovered the ball cap that Mark had carelessly tossed onto the heater when he thought he was about to “get some” was BURNING!

I dove to retrieve the cap like a professional football player and made my touchdown by throwing the smoldering chapeau (as Mark calls all his hats) right into the tub, along with all my greasy clothes.

Although not the way I had anticipated beginning my vacation, I started to see the humour in everything and began giggling. I knew this was going to be one of those moments I could look back on and laugh about.

But wait! It gets better.

Mark returned to discover his hat was no longer. It looked like an Anti-Canada hat too, as the little red flag on the back was burned to shreds. He absolutely couldn’t wear it out in that condition (especially in Canada). After getting a kick out of his burnt had, he advised me that there was a laundry room available (at a highway robbery cost of $5.00 per load). But really, we had no choice. Each of us took a pile of wet clothes in our hands and headed outside into the pouring rain in search of a washing machine.

Deciding to head back to the room and just crack open a beer and make the best of the rest of our night, we made our mad dash back in the rain, back up the stairs, into our room, and slammed the door behind us. Mark went to apply the deadbolt lock and suddenly started screeching that he was just electrocuted! I thought he was pulling my leg and being a smart ass, so what do I do? Before my electrofied husband could stop me, I tried to lock the deadbolt too, and then I got electrocuted! My entire hand, halfway up my arm went numb and tingly and I had no feeling in it for a good ten minutes.

Despite their disbelief and basically suggesting we were high on something when we called to report our “shocking” news to the reception staff, the lodge manager finally arrived to take a look.

He didn’t believe us. I think he thought we were looking for an upgrade or just being jackasses, but when Mark suggested he touch the deadbolt and try and engage it to see for himself, he wouldn’t! There must have been some faulty wiring that was acting up with all the dampness and rain. The light switch to the room was right beside the deadbolt, and I’m sure when the metal connected with the plate inside, the faulty wiring and dampness caused the shock. But what do I know…I’m certainly not an electrician.

The manager actually suggested that we just not use the deadbolt. I gave him the most “are you retarded” look I could muster without speaking. Sensing I was skeptical, he said, “But this is CANMORE. Nothing happens in Canmore.” I thought to myself, yeah, nothing happens in Ajax either, but that doesn’t mean I am stupid enough to invite danger into my home. We insisted that they move us to another room despite his insistence we had nothing to worry about.

We were electrocuted for crying out loud. Would HE feel safe in that room?

OYE! What a start to our vacation. Once we were finally settled into our new room and finished the laundry (which didn’t remove the oil stains from my clothes) we quickly threw on our bathing suites and ran into the rainy night like a bunch of kids, excited to sit in the hot tub and gawk at a mountain.

Reflecting back, although not what one would deem a “pleasant” night, it is one of our most memorable nights. Although most of my clothes were ruined, Mark’s hat was charred, and we both got electrocuted, there was a still a defining moment that keeps replaying in my mind.

It was the moment we finally broke our gaze from the mountain, and my husband leaned in for a kiss while snuggling in the hot tub with the rain pouring down on us. All the aggravations of the evening were washed away and it was just the two of us, kissing in the rain beside a mountain, like it was most natural thing in the most magical place on earth to be.

Labels: Comic Relief, Mark, Vacation

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Rocky Mountains

Tuesday, July 5, 2005

My creative writing juices just haven’t been flowing since we returned from our holiday. It’s hard as hell to get back into the swing of things after such a long vacation. Since writing isn’t my bag these days, I decided to give movie making a shot.

Although, I quickly realized while watching all of our video clips that my husband, the handy camcorder man that he is (I was the regular camera girl), took plenty of wonderful footage of my ass as I climbed stairs and or while walking in behind me!

Thank you darling!
We traveled all that way for you to take footage of my ass!
LOVELY!

Here is my video collage of our vacation. It isn’t easy trying to cram in two hours of video and 500 awesome photos into a four minute window to one of my favorite Enya songs, but I tried my best.

Enjoy!

Labels: Vacation, Video

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Among Silver Clouds and Sunbeams

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Sound Asleep In
Lullaby Dreams
Among Silver
Clouds and
Sunbeams

This was the saying on the front of a baby card I purchased for Ava on top of Sulphur Mountain. We cheated and never actually physically climbed a mountain, but we did ride to the top of one via a Gondola (and even trotted part way up one when we went horseback riding). The view was breathtaking, the air was crisp, and there was THREE feet of snow! Imagine that in the middle of June.

It was a such a wonderful holiday, filled with every extreme of weather and emotion. The mountains truly are amazing and the trip did wonders for our spirits.

We arrived home a few days ago, but it has been a bit hectic traveling back up North to get the cats, unpack and unwind, adjust to our new time zone and recover from the overnight red eye flight home.

Although still in vacation mode and venturing out with my hubby everyday for new adventures, here are a few pictures I wanted to share with you. I’ve truly missed blogging and everyone who I share this experience with and amazing friendships that have blossemed from it. I’ll be back soon! God knows I have a billion stories and photos to share from our holiday (we ONLY took 500 of them). Don’t forget me!

Until then…

Hugs and a squeeze
Karla

This is Moraine Lake, or better known to most as "Valley of the Ten Peaks". The scene you see here used to adorn the $20 Canadian bill.

Here we are at Moraine Lake.

Here is the view from the top of Sulphur Mountain. Absolutely Stunning!

Here is me on top of Sulphur Mountain. My feet are covered in snow!

Mark threating to throw a snowball at me! Brrrr

Ahhh...life doesn't get much better than a fine bottle of red vino, Lindt chocolates (my favorite), a view of the mountains, a fireplace across the room and enough bubbles for hours of frolicking in our private jacuzzi.

Whale watching in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Victoria, British Columbia was a close second to the mountains (we actually located the whales close to Washington near the US coast). Two pods were in the area, totalling almost 60 whales, many of which swam right up under our boat and "breached" for us (the classic out of water jump). I was so fascinated, I forgot to take pictures most of the time. Mark took some great video however, which I'll be sure to share.

And this photo is specially dedicated to AC and Cuppa! Tim Hortons coffee in Canmore! Yummy goodness is what is in that cup right there. We met a woman from Croatia who couldn't get enough of our coffee and stocked up on the tins of it for sale. In light of the fact that tomorrow is Canada Day, this is my patriotic salute to a true Canadian marvel! Thanks Tim Hortons!

Labels: In Memory of Ava, Vacation

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Airplane Adventure Story Four: Experiencing a sunrise above the clouds

Monday, June 6, 2005

This is one of the most magical and moving moments in my life.

We caught “the red eye” flight home from Vegas last year. The midnight flight out of Las Vegas meant we would be landing at 6:00 am Toronto time once the three hour time zone change was factored in.

After a good nights rest of two and half hours sleep(!!), I awoke to the most blaring and intense light in my face.

What I saw brought a tear to my eye. We were flying above the clouds as the sun started to rise. I’ve seen plenty of sun rises in my short life, but nothing could compare to this. There was a feeling of weightlessness and exhilaration as we soared above the clouds and were privvy to most beautiful sunrise as it started to breathe life onto the world below.

Something as simple and routinely predictable as a sunrise was so incredibly powerful to experience flying about the clouds.

There was a moment of clarity, like in the movie Contact when Jodie Foster found God in space.

The intensity and passion of the moment left me speechless.

Labels: Vacation

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Airplane Adventure Story Three: Would you like some feathers with your lace sir?

We were about to leave the airport in Jamaica to return home. We had made it through all the security checks just fine. Feeling relieved to be away from all the accusatory eyes of the airport security staff, we bid our farewells to the beautiful country and entered through the last set of doors before boarding the plane.

We were stopped dead in our tracks. There was ANOTHER security stop, but this time, instead of just scanning and x-raying the baggage, all carryon luggage was subject to open searches (they really think everyone is out to smuggle their drugs).

It occurred to me that Mark was pulling my carryon (mine had the red identifying tags) and I wondered if I should switch bags with him knowing what the contents of my bag contained.

Let me paint the picture for you.

If it was frilly, hot pink, see through, lacey or covered in red feathers it was in that bag.

Deciding to see how many more shades of red Mark’s cheeks could get (on top of his sunburn), we continued on.

Let’s just say his cheeks did in fact, turn a deep shade of crimson red when the bag was opened and all the lingerie, make up and feminine stuff inside was revealed.

To this day he refuses to even hold my purse if I need to tie a shoelace. Fear of being caught with feminine stuff has scarred the poor boy for life! I’m sure no one really pictured him in a hot pink thong and red feathered slippers, but I guess the connotation was always there seeing that he WAS the one carrying the bag after all.

Tee Hee!

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Airplane Adventure Story Two: The Rubber Glove Shows No Love

Friday, June 3, 2005

On our way home from our honeymoon in Jamaica, we happened to be the unfortunate couple in the crowd that was held back for further investigation. Apparently, leaving the country and not declaring anything seemed highly suspicious. When asked if we were sure we had nothing to declare, we put on our most innocent looking faces, smiled and said we were just returning from our honeymoon (wink wink, nudge nudge), so of course we didn’t spend any time shopping if you catch my drift.

Apparently, a cocky attitude and trying to be funny with a customs officer is not a good idea. The officer, looking very annoyed at our attempt at humour gazed down on us with contempt and condescension, repeating the question. “Are you absolutely sure you have nothing to declare?” At that point I didn’t think it was a wise idea to change the story and declare the t-shirt I was wearing. Truthfully, I was too lazy to fill out my little yellow declaration card on the airplane. I tried to nonchalantly zip up my jacket to hide the palm trees plastered across my chest (they just screamed “smuggle alert”). We all know the consequences for smuggling a t-shirt into Canada!

After a few minutes of getting grilled with questions about our stay and what we did, they decided to pull us aside for “further investigation”. I don’t know how two young people, obviously just returning from their honeymoon looked so suspicious. I mean I know we don’t tan well, but we really had just spent the week in Jamaica. Honest!

I still remember the moment so clearly in my mind. The officer who wanted to see us for “further investigation” signaled us over and proceeded to slip on a white rubber glove. Mark froze in his tracks at the echo of the rubber glove snapping against the officer’s wrist. I could almost hear the gears in his brain working in overdrive trying to figure out a way to get out of the situation.

I can still see the smirk on the officer’s face as he eyed Mark up and down, challenging him to run away from “the glove”.

We reluctantly approached the officer and surrendered our luggage. Again, we were asked if we had any drugs or alcohol. (Why is it that everyone who leaves Jamaica is expected to have Jamaican rum anyways?) For the last time, WE HAVE NO DRUGS OR ALCOHOL. Hands shaking, Mark stumbled to find the key to unlock our luggage and in the process, dropped it on the floor. Poor guy, under so much stress from the situation I think he thought he was dropping a bar of soap in a prison shower. He bent down to pick up the key in the most contorted way so as to not expose his bum in the air too much, as if he was expecting the gloved finger to poke him right then and there in his compromised bent over position.

He finally retrieved the key and opened up the suitcase. The officer rummaged around in our belongings for a little while. Luckily, he didn’t feel that our luggage consisting of lingerie and granola bars was so suspicious after, (you just never know what foreign food will be like) and sent us on our merry way, bum holes left unscathed.

I’m positive that Mark’s ass muscles still haven’t recovered from the extreme clenching he was doing praying for a miracle to save him from surrendering his bum hole to a stranger. Poor guy. No wonder he hates flying so much!

Next time I’ll be sure to buy a bottle of rum to declare. Apparently, carrying around alcohol makes you look less suspicious!

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Airplane Adventure Story One: No Problem Mon!

Thursday, June 2, 2005

This morning my mind started drifting to our upcoming holiday in the mountains and it suddenly occurred to me that we’re going to be boarding a plane again soon. We have certainly had our fair share of funny and foolish airport and airplane adventures. Although we haven’t joined the mile high club (yet), we’ve managed to have almost as much fun and adventure in an airport or airplane as we have while actually vacationing.

Four stories come to mind:
-- The story of being an accessory to a drug run.
-- An embarrassing baggage search
-- The (almost) cavity search
-- Experiencing a sunrise above the clouds.

Here is the first installment of this four part mini series of our airplane adventures: Please faster your seatbelts!

One of our more humorous adventures took place on a small little private charter plane in Jamaica. To set the stage for this little story, I think it’s important to point out the obvious about Jamaica. It is a country known for its cannabis (better known to most as pot). No Problem Mon! I smoked cigarettes at the time, not weed.

Our honeymoon destination was a resort in Negril, Jamaica (not Hedonism II as per Mark’s wishes, we compromised for the couples only resort next door).

Upon arrival at Montego Bay we decided to ditch the free Air Canada bus transportation to the resort and take a private charter plane instead. The bus ride was an hour and a half to Negril from Montego Bay and we were anxious to get our pale asses on the beach for some fun in the sun.

Feeling totally exhilarated to be in Jamaica, we depart the group and head over to Air Jamaica Mon! While journeying over to this section of the airport, a nice man drives up in an airport passenger bus and offers a ride over to the charter plane area. He also offered us all the drugs in the world. No thanks, but No Problem Mon!

We arrive; buy our tickets and someone offered to take our bags for us. They begin to prep the plane for take off, but we were “held up” while they waited for authorization. They inform us that it's No Problem Mon...just a few technicalities. There was a flurry of activity for a little while, until finally, we’re good to go.

The charter planes share the same runway as all the planes flying into Montego Bay. We were about to take off when the pilot looks to his left and there was a giant US Airways plane heading straight for us. It was then that I realized there was no sophisticated radio communication system to determine when to take off. It was essentially, look both ways before you cross the street, say a prayer, hope there are no oncoming planes and if you’re a passenger, try and ignore the alcoholic beverage in the pilots drink holder, close your eyes and hope for the best.

Once we were finally in the air, the charter plane ride to Negril was breathtaking as we flew over the most crystal clear blue water I have ever seen. The landing however, was the craziest I have ever seen. We landed on a local road! I’m glad there were no cars coming from the opposite direction!

Once we landed, two very big men ran up the plane. Silly girl that I am, I thought they were there to assist us off the plane. Was I ever wrong. They didn’t even acknowledge my husband or me as the pilot handed him a large brown envelope and yelled GO GO GO. The big burly men ran back to their vehicle and sped away.

We had just funded a drug run! GOOD!

Excellent way to start your honeymoon! Become an accessory in crime!

We celebrated our new criminal records by indulging in a flaming Bob Marley, the official "initiation" drink of the island, as soon as we arrived at the resort.

Meet Derek. The ULTIMATE bartender. He took care of us MON!

As an aside, if you ever visit Jamaica and someone offers to take you to the “Plantation” don’t be a naïve schmuck like me and assume they are talking about cotton fields. You’ll look like a real idiot! But really...its Not a Problem Mon!

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High Tech Road Trip

Thursday, May 19, 2005

How did people plan road trips, vacations or get around before Microsoft’s MapPoint?

This piece of software is amazing!

You can plug in where you want to go and all the stops you want to make along the way and at the click of a button it will map your route for you, provide you with the fuel cost, driving distance and time and even plot out all the gas stations, restaurants, ATMS, bars, and landmarks along the way for you. Heck, you can even customize what TYPE of restaurants it should display. (Let’s eliminate all those nasty sushi places cluttering up my map!)

It is fully customizable in terms of dumping in the cost of fuel per litre (or gallon), providing highway routes or local roads to drive depending on your preferences and it even lets you add when you want to schedule a stop over.

So far, to get from Calgary, Alberta to Victoria, British Columbia and back to Calgary we will be driving for a total of about 24 hours and clock in over 2000km (or about 1280 miles). It’s a good thing we decided to fly out west and not drive. The total trip from Ontario to BC and back is over 8700km (5,405 miles) and over 85 hours of driving! YIKES! That is a heck of a lot of time to expect me to sit still.

Maybe I’ll run into good old Stephen Harper while we’re out west and have a little chat about his inability to sway Ontario to vote Conservative!

Speaking of Conservative, what a smart move Belinda made crossing over to the Liberal party. It’s too bad she didn’t beat Stephen Harper in the leadership election. It’s also too bad that no one checked out the .com version of her web address before buying the domain name (www.Belinda.ca). It appears if you enter www.Belinda.com you hit a porn site! Nice one Belinda!

Labels: Vacation

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Mountain Getaway

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

The flights are booked.

The car rental is secured.

Seven glorious nights have been booked in the heart of the Rocky Mountains at a quaint little mountain inn.

Two nights have been booked at the most fabulous bed and breakfast in Victoria BC (close proximity to the ocean for some whale watching).

And two nights are pending reservation request confirmation in a stop over town about half way through the province of Beautiful British Columbia. We’ve decided to stay at the most dirt cheap little dive we could find while making our way to and from Victoria to save our accommodation budget for the mountains, but really, this is too much.

Below you will find an email I just received confirming my accommodation request for a little dive of a motel along the Trans Canada highway.

Your request sent to (insert cheap ass motel here) was sent successfully.
IMPORTANT: This is NOT a confirmation of your booking. A representative of (the cheap ass motel) will be contacting you with availability and details! This is a one-time mailing confirmation and we hope you enjoy your time In Kamloops! For your convenience, the following BCNetwork businesses look forward To making your visit more pleasurable.

Duffy's Cold Beer and Wine Store

http://duffy.kamloops.com/

Yee haw!

The sad part is, that’s about all we had planned to do in Kamloops anyways…

Bottoms up!

Labels: Vacation

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