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.

read this update on my life!

Its going well. I'm too tired to come up with something witty.

hear this apology

Sorry people. Sorry for me being in Canada. Sorry for still being in Canada, and sorry for staying in Canada. I'm sure those of you in Canada don't mind and those at home can live without me for a while. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Fonder and fonder.... I see that I may have trouble keeping people - especialy women - away from me when I get back. So, for those back in the UK, as your heart grows fonder and fonder of me should be aware of these following points:

• I'm not losing weight (some of my flabby bits may have turned to muscle)
• I'm not any more confident with women (which probably leads to the next point)
• I'm not falling in love (but I still get objects of affection)
• I'm not a professional snowboarder (but I'm decent)
• I'm not so much of a pushover (you want me to put that where?)
  
• I'm not any taller (in fact I may have shrunk)
  
• I'm not cutting my hair properly (why bother, I'm a no-good hippy traveller)
• I'm not becoming a gentleman (you should hear some of the smut that I've been saying)
  

So there you go. After a few months of your heart growing fonder hopefully that will knock your opinion of me down a few pegs. After all I don't want to come home and have to live up to all your expectations. After all, I'm only human.

The point

Self-centred? Oh no, you've taken that completely the wrong way. I've not become a egotystical self-absorbed dickhead. It's just that for the last few days I've been trapped in a evil downhill slump that has made me look at myself with a ridiculously critical light. I almost cried, before realising that I do in fact have some good points. And if I looked closely I could see good points in the negative points. I think that if we use too narrow a window too look at ourselves then we miss the true splendor of the landscape.

I think that the last of these points was driven home today on the mountain. So sorry Carleen for moaning all day on the hill, and sorry to anyone who has just read this entire blog and realised that I've not actually said anything of importance. But then, I think that you should read it again.

Still waiting for you

Phil

stop celebrating for no reason

The people who live next door to me had a little shin dig tonight to celebrate st. patricks day. Now that is fine enough. It's not for me to put people who are having a good time down, or to stop people partyingHowever when I walked past the door this pissed little tart with a green hat on and some green tinsel wrapped around her waist leans against the frame and asks;

'Are you coming to join the party?'
'No thank you,' I politely reply.
'Oh. Oh ok, you lot hate us paddys don't you?'

I do not hate the Irish. I do not really hate anyone (with a few exceptions) What I do hate is little Canadian/Austrailian/British/American retards like this little cow - she was Canadian - pretending that they are Irish as an excuse to get drunk. I do not need an excuse to have a good night out, and this lot running around like fuckwits just makes them look like walking advertisments for Guinness. I could have continued this conversation but it would have gone something like this...

- That's strange little girl, you sound Canadian.

'Oh but I have a Great-Grandma that was part Irish on her cousin's side.'

- Well whoop-de-fucking do. Have a hat. But are you Irish?

'I'm part Irish.'

- But are you Irish? If you were ever selected for a Olympic team, which one would it be?

'Canada.'

- So you're not Irish. So why are you celebrating St. Patricks day? What makes you want to go out and get absolutely drunk to celebrate a country that you have no real connection to?

'It's a party. Besides there's this cousin on my Grandma's side.'

At which point I would have thrown a rather large turnip at her and chase her until she or I expired from exhaustion or turnip concussion (and that last one would have better odds for her).

Do't get me wrong. I love the Irish. But I don't see why we should celebrate a day of someone we don't really know about (did you know he was Scottish) for no real reason other than you desperately need some way to make that alcohol abuse you so hate yourself for indulging in a little bit more respectable.

Sorry, I needed to get that orf my chest.

Tits to you all.

Phil

fetch some medicine!

I'm bastard ill again. Bastard Whistler bastard illness all the bastard time. My head hurts and my nose is blocked and my eyes hurt and my throat is sore. I mean, who gets a cold just as winter is coming to an end? I'm going to blame Canada.

Times have changed
Our kids are getting worse
They won't obey their parents
They just want to fart and curse!
Should we blame the government?
Or blame society?
Or should we blame the images on TV?
No, blame Canada
Blame Canada
With all their beady little eyes
And flapping heads so full of lies
Blame Canada
Blame Canada
We need to form a full assault
It's Canada's fault!
Don't blame me
For my son Stan
He saw the damn cartoon
And now he's off to join the Klan!
And my boy Eric once
Had my picture on his shelf
But now when I see him he tells me to f**k myself!
Well, blame Canada
Blame Canada
It seems that everything's gone wrong
Since Canada came along
Blame Canada
Blame Canada
They're not even a real country anyway
My son could've been a doctor or a lawyer rich and true,
Instead he burned up like a piggy on the barbecue
Should we blame the matches?
Should we blame the fire?
Or the doctors who allowed him to expire?
heck no!
Blame Canada
Blame Canada
With all their hockey hullabaloo
And that bitch Anne Murray too
Blame Canada
Shame on Canada
For...
The smut we must stop
The trash we must bash
The Laughter and fun
Must all be undone
We must blame them and cause a fuss
Before someone thinks of blaming uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuus!!!!

Oh come on it was inevitable I would stick that up, I'm too ill to think of anything original. So anything else I should enlight you on? Well I had a hilarious (and painful) stack the other day. It was Tobi's last day in Whistler and we went for Fresh tracks, however the snow was a little bit icy so we were going easy. Until I suggest going through the park and facing my own demons. Now I hit two (little) jumps on my board and landed them, so when going over the bump section I had a bit of confidence and speed.

srccccccccccccccccccccccraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkkk (that's the sound of a board going over ice) and I ended up falling heavily on my arse and wrist, both of which complained. Then another boarder flies over the bumps and does exactly the same thing. Only his fall is stopped by me. As he slides past his board gives me a nice bump on the head.

Now I was lucky. If either of us had been going faster I could have broken my wrist or arse. And I wasn't wearing a helmet then he would have nicely broken my head. But oh well, that was the end of my day so I struggled off home and felt sorry for myself.

Just like I am here. Sorry folks, I'm going to write something stupid now, so hopefully I'll post that for y'all inabit.

Stay sexy

Phil