talk to him!

There is something depressing about coming home after such a long time away. You have to catch up with people, find out so much (and so much can happen in six months) about them. Sometimes its easy to do this, and you can fall happily back into the routine you left.

Alas I can't do that. Two of my best friend's phone numbers had changed, a decent job is looking more and more difficult to find, and my Dad is warning me that I'm in too much debt (as if I didn't know that). Luckily I managed to find my family all right, and we had a maximus partius on Saturday night, which was somewhat spoiled when the bbq ran out of gas. Then the replacement bottle was the wrong one and... well.

But it was all good. It was also good to go out drinking with my little bro and catch up on six months past, although going to the once respectable JD's in Sutton and seeing people sniffin up the coke in the bathroom and then dancing around the only respectable girl in the establishment was rather funny in a - I hope no-one starts anything - kind of way.

The Station was pretty cool though, if a little sentimental. Must find new watering hole.

Sod it. I'm back, I better get used to it.

Love you all.

Phil

listen for the quiet sobs

I hate packing stuff up. It makes everything seem to final, cramming all that rubbish into two bags. I suppose it's supposed to seem final because it is final.

Yes, tomorrow I leave Whistler for good (for a while) I'm coming back at some point in the next few years to have another rocking time. As I sit here rather bored with my hands on my keyboard and my mind already flying home (It's a new method to avoid jet-lag) I can't help but wonder what, if anything, I've learnt about myself in the six months I've been here...

a) Once positive with women - stay positive. I really shouldn't get tied down with a stupid crush, missing any other chances that come my way.

b) Take chances. I've been doing that so much more since I've been here. It's great to do something, whether it's chatting up the pretty girl at the bar or a black diamond run. After all, you've always got insurance covering your back.

c) Don't like it? Change it! I wasn't really happy with my old flatmates, or my old flat. Yet I stayed for ages, only moving when most of the season was over. Since then I've had a whale of a time.


And now the honour roll. I've missed people off here, but that doesn't mean I don't love you too. Ouch, double negative. I'm going to raise a glass and toast...

Matt - to moderatly attrative women!
Carleen - My favourite Aussie
Toby - You like? I like Uncle Phil!
Rob - Canucks vs Kings and the drinking that followed!

And of course, the ultimate toast that I heard only a few days ago yet I feel sums up Whistler and everyone's attitudes.

Suck it up Princess!

At least it's clean.

just... wait.... a little longer

WARNING! SPOILER ALERT! UNBELIVABLE PLOT TWIST!

No, its not the part where I spoil the episodes of 24 the British Isles haven't seen yet (although I was tempted to). This is the blog when I reveal my homeward bound date. Prior to previous blogs and notes and thoughts, I am in fact home in a little over a week, on Thursday the 26th of April.

I hear screams, I hear moans, I hear cheers all wrapped up into one unbelievable mess of noise.

Why the change of heart? I hear the moaner's ask.

Well moaners, I have no money, and rather than fudge everything up still further I'm going to come home and plan for another trip, probably in 12 months or so.

When we will see you again? I hear the screamers yell.

I have no idea. Due to lack of funds I will be extremley skint for a while, and hopefully will get some proper writing done. If anyone wants to offer me a job feel free.

Whats the average land speed of an African bull elephant? The cheerers shout.

Shut up.


See you soon mother folkers.

Phil

Its important you read this

Wow. What a immense four days. That is all I can say, and yet I know you lot won’t take that as a proper explanation. So here goes. I suppose that we really need to go back in time…

Two weeks ago I read something in the Staff newsletter about a charity head shave. Now at that point my head was ridiculously long and getting in my eyes. Numerous people had told me to get a haircut. You can see where this is going, right?

$400 worth of pledges later I’m sat in a bar in a chair having my hair ceremoniously shaved off. I was amazed, not just at how cold it was, but rather the atmosphere that was floating around the place. Everyone in that room was having fun and raising money for a fantastic cause, BC children’s hospital. So it was in this spirit that I asked Rob if he would buy a raffle ticket for me, more to just give more money.

When the dude read out my number I was surprised. I was still cold, but when a pair of tickets for the Vancouver Canucks were pressed into my palm I considerably warmed up. Of course I invited Rob to join me as it was a combination of his and mine good luck that won them. I was amazed, I would never been able to avoid the $85 tickets and had resigned myself to not seeing a ice hockey game, but here was my big chance.

‘Who are they playing?’ Someone asked.
‘The Los Angeles Kings.’
‘Awesome. When?’
‘The 3^rd of April. Oh. That’s Tuesday.’

After calling in a few favours we managed to get the time off work, thank you Mat, Erin, the supervisors for being so understanding and everyone else who covered us! Straight from work we jumped onto a coach heading to Vancouver with nothing more than tickets and money in our pockets.

The seats were amazing. The game was good (I’m still a football fan). And then came the fun decision. We had missed the last coach back to Whistler, which we had pretty much expected. Rob had to work at midday the next day.

So the only option was to get the 5.15 bus the following day, just to ensure that Rob would get back in time. And the best way to spend your first night in Vancouver?

1 - Find a comfy Hotel/hostel and settle down for the night.

2 - Attempt to drink throughout the night.

I’ll take a 2 please Bob.

Ha! We managed to find Granville St, the main pub area in Van. And once we had sampled beer in 5 different bars (including Leffe, about bloody time I had some decent booze) Rob and I had a evil plan.

We would document the night through pictures. Of people touching my newly bald head. The reasons we used for the rest on night varied, and I think that the fact I was wearing my t-shirt which had the charity on helped, but I now have pictures of about 30 people touching my head for luck. This includes, but not limited to…

• Barmaids
• Pretty girls
• Not so pretty girls
• Soldiers having one night out before being moved to Somalia
• Random dudes who asked what was going on.
• The LOS ANGELES KINGS ICE HOCKEY TEAM
  

Ha! What a night! Then we staggered to a take-away (Rob almost threw up) then to a 7-11 (I broke the drinks dispenser), then back to the bus station (which we found without too much hassle and with only a couple of strange people following us). Time arrived, 4.45. We waited for the coach for a half hour, and then got on and both fell asleep, waking up upon our arrival in Whistler at 7.45.

All this from wanting a free haircut and raising some money for charity.

Whistler officially rocks.

Photos will be forthcoming, I just need to find a USB thingy.