Simply Majestic

(Written while in Whistler May 22 - 28. Photos unavailable due to acting out computer!)

Although I haven’t travelled much and haven’t lived in many places, I do believe I live in “the best place on earth” the ads selling our beautiful province say. Urban legend says that the Inuit have hundreds of words for the snowflake. I believe the same may be said for the number of words we have to describe the natural beauty of my city and the many wonderful places so close to my home that I consider them to be my backyard

Case in point: Whistler. A two hour drive up one of the most scenic highways (whoever named it the Sea to Sky could not have come up with a better name!) puts me in a place people from all over the world come to enjoy, perhaps for only once in a life time. Every time I come here I sit back and look at the beauty of it all and think “I live here. I can come and admire this, be in this, any time I want. I can take advantage of all this place has to offer any time of year, either planned or just on the spur of the moment. This is my backyard. How incredibly lucky am I?”

So, here I am spending a week up here amidst the stunning beauty of the mountains, a gift from my mom’s boss (THANK YOU KATHLEEN!!!!) in a gorgeous condo at peaceful, beautiful, right at the base of the mountain Creekside. Settling into a lounge chair by the pool the other day, the hot sun kissing my skin, I looked up to see snow covered mountain tops below which green grass surrounded by forest made up the ski run that appeared to end at the edge of our pool. It was somewhat surreal to look up to this picturesque scene while lounging in the hot sun. A stunning, awe-inspiring, breath-taking view for sure.

Yesterday Dave and I took my mom up the Whistler gondola to the Roundhouse. I have been up here countless times. My mom has not been to Whistler in over 20 years and although I have a memory of riding up the gondola, she really did not. It was during our ride up and the subsequent pause to take in the amazingly grand view offered 6,000 feet up that we agreed upon the word that truly encapsulates what the eyes take in. All three of us were finding words to describe it: incredible, beautiful, awesome, breathtaking, unbelievable, stunning, awe-inspiring, gorgeous…and on and on. But it was Loret who put it best: “It is majestic.” Yes. Truly, it is majestic. Looking out from atop the mountain the magnificence of the beauty before us was palpable. And I believe each of us thought to ourselves “How lucky am I to have experienced this moment of pure majestic natural beauty, and right in my own backyard!”

The Comment of All Comments

I started this blog for myself. I just wanted to write. I also wanted to break away from the vulnerability of having other people read my writing. Blogging seemed the perfect venue…I could put my writing out there for others to read without having to see their reactions. I thought that it would be read by the few closest people in my life… you know, my mom, my dad, Dave, maybe a few friends would take the time to read it. Time went on. I became aware of more people reading it and especially began to love receiving the comments people left. Yes, I realized I was perhaps a little more narcissistic than I had originally thought. More time passed and I became aware that people that I don’t even know were reading my blog. My head grew bigger. The thought that people that do not know me would take time out of their lives to read my posts was both humbling and thrilling. Really cool actually. I believe that for the most part these people have been told about my blog by someone I know, or someone who knows someone I know (you know – tell one friend, they’ll tell another and pretty soon everyone’s hair will be silky smooth and shiny!)

Although there only a few people who regularly comment on my blog, I sometimes will receive an email from someone I know with a comment. I love getting comments – again, there’s that narcissist enjoying the attention. Every time someone comments, I get an email telling me so. So the other morning when I looked at my inbox and saw the name of someone I did not recognize, I was intrigued. Who the hell was Sharman King? And how did he/she come across my blog? Apparently by something called Google Alerts (which I know nothing about). Upon reading the comment about “The Moleskine Notebook”, I realized Sharman King is from the Book Warehouse. A comment from a bookstore?!!!!!! Talk about making my day! I got so excited you would have thought President Obama had taken the time to read my blog. For anyone out there who is confused about my level excitement, let me explain…

I love books. I mean I LOVE books. The crispness, the smell of new a new book; the different textures of the pages; the spine that has never been cracked. I have so many books I could probably open up my own bookstore. Unfortunately I would never be able to part with any of them so I’d end up losing my shirt quite quickly. So with my love for books comes my love of bookstores. I can spend hours in a bookstore. I love looking at the walls of books, the piles of books on tables. There is something extremely comforting about being in a bookstore. I could spend all my money in a bookstore. And I happen to love the Book Warehouse. I stare at the window frequently as I often pass it while walking down Davie Street. I often go in, even if it is just to look and touch all those new books and dream of one day owning all of them.

And so….to know that someone from my favourite bookstore somehow found my post about my favourite notebooks and actually took the time to let me know…well, I believe this really is the Comment of all comments for me! And yes, my head has swelled just slightly bigger.

How Serendipitous!

This one's for you girlfriend...

For the past couple weeks I have been trying to get my work space to feel more inspiring. I have not been feeling it and have been struggling to create it. One of the things that enhances my creativity is a clean and organized work space, along with the visible tangibles that inspire me. This is a challenge with my lovely old antique desk, which I love yet hate for its lack of space. I am a visual person. I need to see the things that inspire me and at the moment the set up I’ve got is just not working for me. Yes, I look to my right and out the window see the mountains – a definite inspiration. I look directly above my computer and read a favourite quote: “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” (So appropriate, isn't it?) However, the rest of my inspirational objects sit either low to my left or behind me on my bookcase and are not easily seen. I have considered moving my bookcase from where it now sits in my living room to beside my desk…full of things that inspire me: my globe, some of my favourite books, pictures of my niece and nephew, other inspirational quotes. But then a blank space will be left and I’m not sure how I would like that in my living room. So, after much playing around with my work space, I am still left unsatisfied. Until today…

I received a call from my very dear friend Michelle. A little background first. Michelle has a large map of the world that covers an entire wall in her apartment. I love this map. Every time I am in her apartment I can’t help but admire it, get close to it, touch it, dream of all the places I’d like to go. Yes, I love this map. Michelle also has the most comfortable leather chair and sofa. I mean, you sink into this wonderfully cozy chair and never want to get up. This is the seat I always try to get when I am at her home. So when she called today to tell me she had moved into a smaller space, one that would not be able to house either her grand map of the world nor her big leather chair and that she felt instead of putting said objects in storage, I should look after them for her, I couldn’t believe it! Firstly, she knows me so well and knows I am the person to care for these items until she can one day fit them back into her own space. Secondly, receiving these two items completely solves my problem of making my work space the inspirational area I want it to be. My bookcase can be moved to live beside my desk. The map of the world will cover the appropriate amount of wall space and the chair will take the place of the bookcase. How perfectly it all works out. Her possessions will be well looked after. It probably saves her storage fees and I get to savour, for however little or long a time, two truly beautiful and inspirational objects.

So, it is serendipitous that I need something to fill the space of my bookcase, while she needs a good place to store her stuff. How wonderfully it all works out. Only my friend Michelle would think of me when thinking about what to do with her stuff. Only she would think to offer these things to me (albeit on loan), knowing how much I love and appreciate them. I shall cherish and keep them in good shape for as long as they live with me.

Thank you so much girlfriend! You made my day today!

The Moleskine Notebook

I think every creative finds inspiration in the fresh tools of their trade. A painter may love the feel of new paintbrushes or a new canvas. A musician may love new strings on a guitar or the way the piano keys feel on their fingers. A gardener may love the scent of freshly cut grass and the feel of soil being moving between their fingers. A chef may love fresh ingredients and a particularly special pot or pan. A photographer may love a special old camera, a new lens or the process of watching film develop.

Ask a writer about the sorts of things that can enhance or inspire their writing and included in this answer will be things like new pens, new pencils, fresh notebooks or paper, new journals, the smell of new stationary, the smell of new books. Personally, I don't think there is anything better than a fresh journal and a good pen (medium point!). Albeit most of my writing is done on the computer, it is a different experience to record my thoughts and feelings with pen on paper. In fact, I have about 15 years' worth of writing in journals. And while I don’t journal as much as I used to, I still love having nice notebooks for both journaling and just general list making and notes to self.

Last Christmas my dear friend Kim gave me a set of Moleskine notebooks. These plain looking beige notebooks are just that - basic ruled notebooks. While they may appear to be “Plain Jane” wallflower journals, they are anything but regular old notebooks. From the texture of the cover (feeling both smooth and unprocessed at the same time) to the silky smooth inside pages, they were the perfect size to keep with me in any bag, allowing me to always have a book to record anything, anytime...things to do, thoughts, reminders, grocery lists, budgets, etc. Lots of lists for sure! Needless to say, they did not last me long. So recently, while stopping in at the Book Warehouse looking for blank stationary, I came across my newly beloved notebooks. This time in a new colour – red! I had to have them and so proceeded to treat myself to a three pack. How do I describe the joy it gives me to have nice fresh journals? It is even difficult to actually break down and write in them, so pristine they are having been untouched and unspoiled by the pen. But then, what are they for? So after opening the packaging, I found inside the below insert. It gave me an even greater thrill to think that I am writing in the same notebooks as some of the world’s greatest thinkers and creators once wrote in.

"The history of a legendary notebook"

"Moleskine* is the heir of the legendary notebook used for the past two centuries by great artists and thinkers, including Vincent Van Gough, Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway and Bruce Chatwin. This trusty pocket-sized travel companion held their sketches, notes, stories, and ideas before they became famous images or beloved books."

To paraphrase now, Chatwin nicknamed the notebooks “Moleskine” in his book “Songlines”. In 1986 the original manufacturer closed down forever. Chatwin proceeded to buy all the Moleskines he could find, but it wasn’t enough. In 1998 a Milanese publisher brought the notebook back to life under the name “Moleskine.”

“As the reverent keeper of an extraordinary tradition, the legendary notebook once again began travelling the globe. Capturing reality on the move, preserving details, impressing the unique aspects of experience upon paper: Moleskine is a reservoir of ideas and feelings, a battery that stores discoveries and perception without depletion.”

I am now even more inspired by these brilliantly simple little notebooks.

Burger Heaven

I must make note of the best burger joint I have ever been to. Starving hungry after settling into our room upon our arrival in Vegas, and looking for something quick, we saw a sign for "BLT Burger". Figuring it to be a take out burger place, we followed the path and hit the most amazing burger joint EVER. And I do mean EVER! Not a take out place. No, this was a restaurant specializing in gourmet burgers all the way. "BLT" does not stand for Bacon Lettuce and Tomato. It stands for Bistro Laurent Tourondel (I believe him to be some famous chef). Anyways, I have never had a burger actually melt in my mouth. Seriously. My“Shaft’s Blue” burger was freshly made to order with blue cheese (I’m talking real good blue cheese here), caramelized onions and mushrooms. Did I say it literally melted in my mouth?! I never though a burger could taste so good. I think I could have eaten burgers every night. BLT Burger people - if you come across one (Vegas, NY and Washington DC) you must try it. Oh, and the onion rings are to die for as well.

Metal Freak and Piano Bars Just Don't Mix

After settling into our room and laughing at the mishaps of the day so far, it was time to get out and play. We had a couple stops to make -Wild Bill's for Dave and the MGM to pick up our tickets to Ka, but the ultimate plan was to hit the Bar at Times Square at NY NY for some duelling piano action. I knew it would be a challenge to get Dave into the groove of what I consider to be the best duelling piano bar ever. I remember when it was the only one in Vegas. Now there are many, but none compare to the Bar at Times Square. My plan: ply Dave with alcohol and hope for many heavy metal songs to be played.

First stop - Wild Bill's, where Dave does a repeat of our last trip, quickly winning $300 at Texas Hold 'Em. In Dave style he knows when to walk away and we walk on to the MGM to get our tickets, only to find out Monday the show is dark and the box office closed. More laughter at our luck. Over to NY NY we go, where Dave picks up another $300 at Hold 'Em. Yes, this guy has horseshoes up his ass. I have lost my money to the slots and am ready to see if I can get Dave into the groove at the piano bar. I have decided to ease Dave in, so we stand back a bit, although I'm dying to be front and center. I try to be casual. I get drinks - part of my plying with alcohol plan. I am thrilled when they play a Metallica song - "See, I told you they play anything!!!". He is trying but I can tell he's not there yet. I decide more alcohol is in order so I get him a shot of tequila (the damn expensive good stuff he likes too!). The alcohol plan doesn't seem to be working. I plead with him to request any metal song and I'll pay to get them to play it (as one of the players said, holding up a request form "this is a suggestion" and holding up a request form with money, "this is a request".) He doesn't give me a song, despite my persistence. As I am slowing pulling us closer to the front it is becoming apparent that a metal guy just isn't into the duelling piano scene. Well, I tried.

With me having no plans whatsoever to leave (I have already told him I'm spending the entire night at this bar!) Dave is happy to leave me to my own devices and heads off to the casino. I quickly make friends with a girl (also named Angela - how serendipitous!) that was there alone. I told her I was going to be at the front all night and she was in with me immediately. So there we were front and centre, singing and dancing the entire night away. I believe we provided entertainment for the people around us, as I left momentarily to get a drink and was asked by the person behind me not to leave as she was having fun watching me (I am not sure if this was a compliment or not!!) I got to sit and sing with one the piano guys (very briefly as I am sure he quickly realized how horrible I sounded.) I had him get all the Canadians very excited and cheering loudly. And for the first time (I have been to this place a number of times and never paid for a song) I paid to get a song played and it got played immediately, which I loved! (I felt that one Tom Petty song really needed to be followed by another.)

To top off this most fun and fabulous night that I was having, I had two separate people tell me they thought I was 20. Yes, you read that correctly - 20! That is 17 whole big years less than my actual age! Although I wonder if it was more that I was just acting like a 20 year old. Hmmm. Anyways, after 41/2 hours of dancing my ass off, singing my heart out and working up quite a sweat (I consider this to be my workout for the month of April) Dave returned to find me and I was ready to make the long trek down the strip back to the Mirage.

You have to love Dave...he walked away with over $600 that night. He took breaks (unbeknownst to me) to walk by the piano bar to make sure I was okay (or more likely to make sure I wasn't making too much of an ass of myself - ha ha ha). And most importantly, he let me enjoy the one thing that I really wanted to do on our trip - spend at night at the Bar at Times Square. Not many guys leave their girls alone in a bar without any worries. And not many couples can let each other do what they want to enjoy on vacation, even if it means they are doing it without each other. This is the best thing about me and Dave and why he's the best person to go on vacation with. Our first night in Vegas, despite the many little mishaps here and there, which we both could only laugh off, was perfect!

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS IS WRITTEN HERE

I believe there are some readers out there who are just dying to hear about our adventures in Vegas. These blogs are dedicated to you.

OFF TO A SHAKY START

Despite arriving at YVR in plenty of time, our names were almost crossed off the flight list, with our bags almost being taken off the plane because by the time we arrived at the gate, we were late. Dave was actually asked if he would go on without me! I actually think he might have ditched me at YVR to get to Vegas. This is all because we had to have one last smoke before we headed through Customs and Security. We had LOTS of time, but then entered into the SLOWEST lines possible at both Customs and Security. Oh, and I had to stop at the store just before our gate to get a snack.

The flight was a breeze. No medications were consumed to sedate me. No one was harmed. I did not get agitated (although Dave was concerned about my foot and pen tapping, not realizing I was grooving in my seat to my Ipod). Chalk one easy flight up for me!

We arrive in sunny, hot Las Vegas. Of course, our first mission upon retrieving our bags was to get out and smoke before getting a cab to the Mirage. Instead of finding our way to the cabs and the big line up there, we opted to pay $10 more for the town car that was right in front of us. So excited was I about riding in a town car, I had to get out the camera. The driver took a picture of us in front of said town car and we were off, never to see said camera again. Apparently in all my excitement (I know - it’s just a car!) I left it behind. Did we get the company name? No. Did we get the driver’s name? No. Did we get any information that may help us locate lost camera? No. There is a camera out there somewhere with one lonely picture of Dave and I in front of a town car.

Arriving at the Mirage, we again pick the SLOWEST line to check in. Our room isn’t ready (expected since we were a few hours early) so we change, check our bags and hit the pool. This is where I realize I have left the camera in the town car. I decide Pina Coladas are in order to help numb the pain. Did I mention this camera actually belongs to Dave?

After soaking up some sun it is time to check into our room. Dave goes to do something (I don’t know what) while I gather our things. I clean up our area and while doing so throw away Dave’s full pack of cigarettes. The pack was all wrinkled – wouldn’t you think it was empty? Actually, if I had thought at all I would have realized that he could not have possibly smoked an entire pack of cigarettes between the YVR Duty Free and the Mirage pool. But who really does much thinking in Vegas?

We check into our room – amazing. Beautiful room. 20th floor with a view of the pool and the strip. I open my suitcase and find my hand mirror is shattered. And I do mean shattered – into a million tiny pieces. This seems a sign of bad luck to me.

So, between 8:30 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. I have chosen every slowest possible line ever, have almost missed my plane, lost my (I mean Dave’s) camera, thrown out a full pack of cigarettes that do not belong to me (smokers will appreciate this), and found a shattered mirror in my suitcase. Keep in mind about 3 of these hours were spent sitting on a plane where very little damage can actually be done! And this is just the beginning….