Found! (Number 1)

So I was rummaging through my notebooks looking for a story I had written at some point and found some essays I had written. I'm busy working on a project right now (secretsssss!) but I wanted to put these online because it raises good points that I don't believe will change as I grow older.

Here's the first one.

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I've been told that I'm a negative person. The first time it happened was my ex girlfriend, and I was stunned. I like to think I'm a pretty happy guy, so if someone picked this up I needed to work out where it was coming from. I guess the reason I have such a cynical outlook is because I work with what I have. I look around, see what's happening and act accordingly The big one now is cancer. Cigarettes cause cancer. Alcohol leads to cancer. UV rays - the fucking sun, giver of life and sustenance and warmth and energy - now wants us dead. Not only sunshine, but now they're doing studies into the effects of sunblock on the body. Apparently, sunscreen above like SPF 15 may have a negative effect. Seriously. That's how I think humanity will be extinguished. Cancer. That's nothing said of the climate - political, environmental, financial, pick any one - and frankly it's God damn depressing.

But for all the shit piling up in the world, I think it makes love, and by proxy, sex, that much more important. If you're in a relationship, and not a pissy one where you bitch at each other, please go the distance. Tell her you love her, and mean it. Do things for him in bed. Hell, do things for each other in all departments, not because you want something in return, just because it'll make them happy. And if you are in a pissy relationship like the one described above, be the bigger person and fucking apologise. You probably didn't mean to, and you probably don't think you should, but chances are you should probably say "I'm sorry" for something anyway. This world is full of divorce and break ups. It's too easy to call it a day. Work through your problems. I've already shown you that the world wants you dead. Don't piss off the one person in the world that doesn't share the sentiment.


That's not to say being single sucks. Take it from me, being single fucking ROCKS. Try acting even half as debaucherous as you do when you're single, and let me know how that goes. I have a couch you can crash on. You can go out all night, get up whenever you want, talk to whoever you want anytime of the day. You can drink till you pass out without fear of reproach, you don't have to eat bread made out of birdseed. Stop me when you've had enough, couples.

Some say the grass is always greener on the other side. I say, appreciate what you've got. The world is a beautiful place, but the people and the deeds they do are ugly and it's the ugliness we always focus on.

March Madness

And just like that, it's already 6 weeks until the official end of ski season.

What the hell!

I'll admit I haven't been the most active of powderhounds this winter, but I feel like I'm just getting into the groove again. It's tough due to the "perfect storm" of situations - a late night gig means I have no inclination to get out of bed, a laptop that I can reach from said bed compounds that problem. Then there's the location. Not that I'm far out of town (or the lifts) at all; some people would kill to live a mere 15 minute walk. But apart from one summer (2006) I have spent most of my time in or around the village, first as a house advisor, then as a regular ol' tenant that the landlord may or may not have known about. (Really bud, $2500 for 3 people in this town is laughable; you're lucky we didn't set fire to it on the way out.) My point being, a 15 minute walk - in sometimes fairly deep snow - is not something anyone looks forward to, and I didn't even have to shovel the driveway!
So yes, I have been exceptionally spoiled.
Had I either lived where I lived OR had the luxury job that I have, I think I would have been fine to get up on 3 hours sleep, throw all my cold weather gear on and eat pow sandwiches 100+ days this winter.
When this lease runs out shortly, I will be looking to move back towards the village provided I can find something for a "reasonable" amount (reasonable being around $1000 per month) and hopefully I won't have to move AGAIN!

Also: fun stuff in the making for you as readers, and me as a writer. By way of inheritance, I will have acquired a decent sum of money by the end of summer (not millions, trust me). SO: my grandmother loved to travel, even after her sight went, and what better way to spend the money she left me than to see a little bit of the world.

Australia beckons. Yes, THE Australia.

October will be my projected travel time, but I must first organise my passport (specifically get it renewed). Rest assured, as I always do, the stories will be coming thick and fast. I have literally just this second texted the notorious and ever present travelling companion Mr. Sebastian Derham to accompany me, and fingers crossed he shall respond.

By The Way: I wrote in my last entry extolling the virtues of Alta Bistro, and now through a fortuitous turn of events (me having the stones to ask), I write for altabistro.com, and intend to do so regularly. More traffic to their site hopefully will mean more traffic to this site, so it's pretty exciting. So check out the site, and the restaurant next time you're in town.

Music and beer

And we're back. Sorry for the delay, the snow has been good - great lately, and I've been reconnecting with old friends and colleagues (read: drinking) as well as getting back in touch with Mother Nature (read: slaying pow). But since a few new restaurants have opened up in town, I thought I'd give them a quick review.

First up: Alta Bistro is just 2 months old and has already cemented itself as one of my favourite places in town. A small (40 seats) venue with local menu items makes this one of the tastiest dinners you're likely too find for the price you pay. The menu is unique to say the least; last time I was there I tried a bison carpaccio ($22) to accompany one of the best Old-Fashioneds I've ever had. The real kicker, though, is the bar: if it has a flavour induced, it's been done in-house. From vodkas (burnt cinnamon anyone?) to bitters, and even a homemade Clamato for Caesars, everything is made on-site, and the result is definitely noticeable. It pains me to tell you that it's located in the Pinnacle hotel, opposite Hy's Steakhouse.

Another venue in its infancy is the Harajuku Izakaya, next to Whistler's best sushi 2010 Fuji Market. Both reside in the RBC building behind the grocery store. Now, a story. This Friday just past (important detail), me and a few buddies had the night off, so we decided sushi and sake would do us well for starters. Sushi Village has long been a mainstay in Whistler's Best ofs, and with good reason, so when we arrived there we were told it was a 90 minute wait (Sushi Village doesn't take reservations on any parties fewer than 6). As a late thought we decided on the Harajuku, and when we sat down at the bar there were maybe 3 other tables in the place. On a Friday night. Pieter, the manager, directed us on the fledgling tapas menu (the Agadashi Tofu is the best I've had, though could have been spicier) and kept the sake glasses full (which called an early night for me eventually!) It's got a great vibe and in the summer there is a balcony off the backside of the restaurant; it has a lot of potential. And: Sapporo on tap. You can seldom find Sapporo period in this town, let alone draught. This place is so new, they don't even have a site, so check them out of your own accord (though I wouldn't leave it too long; quiet Friday nights don't last forever!)

While I haven't been in a while, Flipside has just reopened its doors in Whistler after a long hiatus and a change of location. Now in Deer Lodge (the site of the former Mountain Club), they offer reasonably priced pasta, and salad and bread thrown into the mix. I always sit in the lounge section because the girl bartender is Swedish. And we know what that means... She makes one hell of a cocktail! No, really, stop in and say hi to Molly. Tell her I sent you. She makes the other Best Old Fashioned! Not to mention one hell of a Manhattan. Oh, to be in Mad Men... Anyway.Here's the link, though it tells you where they are, and their phone number, not a whole lot else. Hopefully they'll rectify their online presence soon!


In Other News, the Leafs are 4 points shy of a playoff spot. That's all I need to say about that. Go Leafs Go.

By The Way: It's ALL about the musc today: I can't remember if I've talked about 8tracks.com, but if I haven't here goes... 8 tracks is for those of us that mourn the loss of the mixtape, that long for a way to express ourselves to others via the use of a playlist. Minimum 8 tracks, no more than 2 songs by the same artist, and they can't be on the same album. Then tag the genres (there's even "study"!) and post it, and start listening to other people's mixes. Like most social networking sites, you can "like" mixes, and "follow" other users. It's a great way to get pumped for going out, or to relax, or to get down and dirty with the one (or more) you love. Trust me on this.

Similarly 22tracks.com gives you all new music submitted by the artist. Then you simply choose your genre (I recommend "Beats", it's funky and chill) and it will generate a list of 22 tracks (Ah, I see what they did there) that will play through while you type your blog... or you know, whatever you're doing.

Powder Powder Powder!!!

And just like that, folks, we've got ourselves a season.

In 7 days, the heavens opened with that fluffy white stuff and didn't stop until we were swimming in 211cm of it.

To put that in perspective, that is more vertical snow than some resorts get all season. It is taller than anyone you have likely ever met. In one week.

I ache in such a brilliant way. That self accomplished feeling in your gut (well, more specifically, in my abs) reminds you that this is where we live, and most people strive to just VISIT this town. That's why, on this President's Day Weekend, keep that smile on, but keep it on for the right reasons. Not because you have to to keep your wallet full, but because you are intrinsically better than these vacationers. You have seen the light, and it's an avalanche beacon.

Why I Hate Growing Up: Volume One

Friends, there is something I need to say. You may know already, but you may not. Despite everything awesome about me, I have a cross to bear.

You know that game when you have to meet a bunch of people so you ask them a load of questions to try and gain insight to their personality? Things like "If you could be an animal, what animal would you be?" or "What's the first thing you would do if you were invisible?" (An otter, and trip my enemies in the street so they would get embarrassed, incidentally.) Well, another of these questions is "What physical trait would you change if you could?", and 1000 times out of 1000 I would say my teeth.

"But Aaron!" I hear you cry. "Your teeth are wonderful! You have a winning smile! Colgate Approved!"

To the casual observer, I would have to agree with you, yet only through your ignorance on the hell-mouth I possess.

For starters, they're straight because I had braces early on in life. I have no trouble admitting that my teeth ahave had a supporting cast, and my orthodontist Dr. Huffman did a hell of a job. Off in under two years, and he fixed a mean overbite.

Secondly, I inherited "porous teeth", which apparently means that if I eat anything other than distilled water I'll get a cavity. Thanks anonymous parent.

Thirdly, and most important to this little entry, is that I hate the dentist. Whether it was through constant trips of agonising pain, or the necessity of constant trips of agonising pain, I now despise them. Not fear them; this is important. I don't much like making a haircut appointment because I have no idea what will happen between now and then. But if someone gave me a room full of anonymous dentists - hell, if someone gave me a room of ANYONE and merely told me they were dentists - I'd be hard pressed not to brick up the door and have them fight it out for the last breath of air. Then I'd shoot the survivor. I don't care how nice you are, you are psychologically chained to my mind as the harbinger of Novocaine. I even know a dentist, but I know him as Ted, the supergenius husband of my mom's wild friend from high school, not Ted "DRILL YOUR FACE" Dentistman.

Putting this to one side for a moment, I'd like you to imagine the following scenario: Every 6 months, a man will come to your door and punch you in the stomach, from the age of 4 until you die. (This man is a bigger bastard than a dentist if he hits a kid in the gut, but I digress.) Then, one magical day, around your 18th birthday, someone says to you "Listen, if you want these stomach punches to continue, then you'll have to pay for them from now on." If you agree to it, then I don't know how you got out of your padded cell, but well done.

This is how I view my whole "fix my teeth" thing.

But, despite brushing my teeth twice a day for the last 12 years, my cursed maw is rebelling, and has sent me this: (WARNING: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART)



So, you win this round. After many years of procrastinating (possibly 10, I lost count), I have had to book an appointment for this Thursday at 2:20pm, then a guaranteed follow-up and fix-up after that (because even an idiot could tell you what a rotting tooth looks like.) But that's what kills me - no matter how hard I try to prevent it, my teeth are terrible.

And that's why I hate growing up.

By The Way: If you are seeking the next generation in music listening, I highly recommend Shuffler.fm for its ability to pick out music blogs according to genre. It's being called the Future of Radio.

Another Year

Once again, Christmas has descended upon the Biggest Little Town in the North. And, now that it's come and gone, I'm prepared to get something off my chest.

I'm tired of Christmas.

Have you ever been at a party, and someone asks you to tell you a joke? You stammer, on the spot, until you finally muster up some pathetic laugh you heard when you were in grade school. That's the way I feel when I hear the following words:

What do you want for Christmas?

I am a simple person, whose needs don't stretch past money to pay the rent, plus a little more to party, and metres upon metres of snow. I never know what to get anyone myself, and when I'M the one asking I tend to get the "You'll think of something', or 'Whatever you get me will be fine', or something along the lines that equate to "If you don't KNOW what I want, then you're a bad friend". Consequently, I was the stereotype on Christmas Eve at 4pm doing 90% of my shopping.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love how the "holiday season" makes everyone that little bit nicer for 2 weeks out of the year (ok, maybe living in a place where the Christmas lights are up for months extends that period by about a month or so). And I totally understand the gift giving philosophy - reciprocity forges and maintains bonds of friendship. But I didn't exactly sign in for Christmas, it just engulfed me before I had developed self-awareness and my own identity. Now in December, I have happy memories of childhood Christmases and seek a desire to have the holiday I remember every year. These huge, opulent gifts we now give, especially to the kids, makes us lose sight of what this holiday is all about: to the believers, the celebration of the birth of the Saviour, to non-believers, a chance to reconnect with the people we care about. In my opinion, taking the time to sit down for a drink and a chat with someone you haven't done so in a while is just as valuable as an Xbox, or a new sweater. It shows you're thinking of them on a deeper level, and the conversation proves that you are just as interested in their life as you hope they are in yours. Kind of like Valentine's Day; why reserve one day out of the year to show your love to the one person that doesn't want to break you down, when you can do it every single day you're happy with him/her?

Maybe, if people took this approach more often, throughout the year, the world would be just that little bit less shitty.

Maybe I'm just rambling.

By The Way: I am obsessed with Boardwalk Empire, the new drama from HBO... Do whatever you can to watch it.

Coach the Leafs??? Are you High???

Behold, folks.

Proof that The Great White North is not as true, strong and free as it once was. Recently, the Canadian Senate has passed a law regarding marijuana; specifically, those surrounding growers. In BC, it was anything up to 200 plants would lead to a fine, and anything more could lead to jail time. Now, thanks to Stevie Hapless and his Conservatocracy, a mere 5 plants leads to a mandatory prison term. This is part of a larger Crime Bill, known as S-10 (check out the full story here.)

Now, I'm not a big smoker, and, objectively, I don't know enough about politics to really have my opinion gain any merit. What I do know, however, is the times when they are indeed a-changin'. Harper has had the War On Drugs torch handed to him via the Americans, and now that a softy Democrat is in power in the South (who has smoked pot! Shock! Horror!), he is the sole guardian of family values and the American Way. Were it not for a small geographical problem, he's probably Joe Republican's wet dream, right down to the dead eyes. These new laws are a perfect example of the Conservatives muscling in on something just because they can. And while I may not smoke, I know a fair few people that do (in Whistler! I know, right?).

Steve, if you're going to make this the new rule, at the very least have a provincial vote. A vote is kind of like a referendum, except you might not lose your job. Then, at least we have a say in your little toy chest. Look at it this way. You know who would vote for 200 plants over 5 plants? Stoners. That's who. The last thing they want to do is get up off the couch (Spongebob won't watch itself after all) and fill in a box. And for God's sake, don't dissolve Parliament again. It shows weakness.

In Other News, I have had possibly the best idea of the year. It was inspired by the lacklustre performance the Toronto Maple Leafs put in against the Ottawa Senators last week. Actually, in general recently now that I think of it. And by recently, I guess I mean the last 40 or so years. But, my idea.

Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that there are 5 million Leafs fans in Canada (35mil population divided by 6 Canadian teams, with the extra 5 million either American fans or not interested in hockey at all.) There are 82 games in the regular season. If we could get a contest going, where ANYONE with an idea on what the team is doing wrong could put their name in a hat (a very big hat) to earn a chance to coach a game. The whole thing. Obviously Ron Wilson would be there to organize line changes, be angry, etc., but in terms of tactics and general gameplay, one armchair critic right at Wilson's side every game. A quick calculation of the above hypothetical stats tells you that there are almost 61000 potential coaches per game. I'll say that again. PER GAME! And let's face it, it's not like we have a whole lot to lose!

Anyway, that's my new idea. Tell me what you think.

Oh yeah, and it's snowing like crazy up here.


By The Way: I am totally into B-movies right now. I already extolled the virtues of Machete a few posts back, but Werewolf in a Women's Prison and Ninja Cheerleaders are exactly as awful - and as awesome - as they sound.