the full explanation.....

It was a cold night. Snow was on the ground and the village was still a buzz with party goers exiting the bars looking for the next good party to continue their drink on. A girl... We'll call her hot with long flaxen hair (Wait! what is flaxen anyways? I think a shade of blonde but the description on the bottle didn't match so we'll just say.. Light) walks through taking in the atmosphere while nibbling on her late night pizza while making her way back to her hotel..... do you buy it?

Ok so it was more like some drunk blonde w/ disheveled party hair scarfed her pizza while stumbling through the village trying desperately to avoid other drunks looking for a place to party. The fact she is wearing a Hilton Bath robe failed to turn any heads which is good as it came complete with a couple of beers in the pocket...

To answer how I got there would be best explained from the beginning.....

This past weekend was The Bobbleheads celebratory weekend up in Whistler. We won a weekend for 24 at the 2005 relay and the Lodge finally finished it's renovations and was able to accomodate us for our weekend of fun.

Friday, Shaloa, Dunner & I made our way up to Whistler with road pops in hand. Once we got into our room, our first order of business was cracking open the 3 Litre Heineken (pictures to come) Once that was finished (in about 15 minutes I think) we made our way down to the lounge to meet up with our other team mates... Not content to sit around the lounge, we downed a couple of shots & made our way out in the night. I really tried to bail & go to bed but the girls were not set on letting me sleep. They forced another drink in me & off to Bills we headed.

One thing I noticed is that there are A LOT of ugly people out last weekend... wow. If they weren't ugly, they were chachi. If they weren't Chachi, they were old. The goal was the shamelessly make out with someone and we would have if not everyone there hadn't repulsed us. So instead we became dancing machines... ok I became a dancing machine. What can I say, Abba moves me (pics to come).

So after a stirring performance to my favourite disco song, Shaloa realized I probably didn't need that last jagr bomb and I'm relieved to report that I DID NOT throw up... To be honest, I'm not sure what happened. I know I got grumpy but Dunner gave me a stern talking to

"HEY! we're all tired, we all want to sleep! But do you see us doing that? NO! We're drinking, we're dancing so suck it up!"

She informed me the next day I looked at her like someone just told me they were in love with me. So apparently, I need to either yell at someone, or someone needs to yell at me.... I'm starting to think I'm f*cked in the head. The night was complete with fighting off the creepy guy brigade... yes, some guy actually felt me up as he walked by. He's lucky I didn't see his face.

After some pizza, we made it back to the hotel to find that no, we hadn't finished the beer & must do so before falling asleep. I promised that I would drink mine in the morning. When I woke up, I stayed true to my word.... yes, it was disgusting.

The lazy day consisted of Milestones where our waiter was more hung over then we were, shopping and a lazy walk around the village. Basically we were killing time til we could meet up with our team mates for apres ski. Dunner & I were trying to explain the merits of napping to Shaloa but it didn't take as Stine burst in from a full day on the slopes. I stuck around with Stine to buy some beer provisions & the other two headed off to Longhorn where Dunner left & went to Squamish.... she is now dead to me. (Ya you are... oh, you also missed Stine's surprise snow attack on me outside brewhouse)

Aprés Ski at the Brewhouse was pretty uneventful... drinks, appies, presentations etc... Everything was fine until Shaloa proved she shouldn't be around children. It may be me. May be it's you but on the list of things you don't say to 4 year old children is "I like high fives from big boys" The presenter's son was there and as I walked by him, I asked for a high five. Shaloa, behind me, then uttered her famous sentence to which I didn't pay a lot of attention to.. . that is until a few seconds later I heard "wow.... I'm sooo inappropriate". I think it was double burn as I was told one of her ex's has a baby face

I almost fell down the stairs from laughing to hard... one of the funniest moments & one of the best things I've heard lately aside from "My sure thing went home".

ANYWAYS.. after Stine kicked my ass in the snow. (we're convinced you point your toes when you run). Yes, she's freakishly athletic & after she face washes you and you try and run after her, ensure your shoes have grip because bailing in the middle of the plaza is pain for you but comedy for everyone else.

So, not content with one injury, I decided that jumping up and down on the bed would be a great idea which was until I bashed my head on the ceiling (so like 2 jumps in)... ya, I'm not 4'11. I'm also apparently not smart despite what I tell people.

So where in this weekend am I going wrong? Was it the beer in the hot tub? Was it the half bottle of crown the guys shared with me in the hot tub? Perhaps.. just may be ... it was the limbo stick. I've decided I created a monster... great for parties.. bad for me.. wow. bad... fun... but bad. I looked at it Sunday morning and decided it needs to spend some time in the bad boy box.

After a quick rendez vous with my whistler friend, I met up with everyone down at Garf's to have what I'll call weird conversation night. Shaloa has a good picture of me sleeping while standing up. Again we headed for a slice after the bar. It was freezing and all day long I was bundled in layers but that night I was wearing a tank top & just my coat. I thought my alcohol parka would help out but unfortunately, I was freezing.. THANK GOD I saw two dudes walking around in Hilton Robes. One was chivalrous & lent me.. or gave me his robe complete with beer in the pockets.. and well, yes, it helped.. quite warm. Shaloa insisted I take it home with me because she finds it hilarious that some guy has to pay 100 dollars because he was being nice to me.. (i think i'm worth every penny). I asked for everyone to NOT ditch me while I waited in line for my slice but yea.. that worked well, so there I was, alone, wearing a bath robe, eating my pizza while I stumbled back to the hotel.

Good thing I know my way around the village better when I'm hammered then I do while dead sober (very weird). No one would kill me sunday morning no matter how much I pleaded and off to brunch at Milestones we went. Different server although the same hang over, prompted me to wonder if there was one person in the village that didn't party the night before. After dealing with a small drama, we were on our way home... I think I may finally be recovering from all that.... but we can never be totally sure.