I’m writing this from Revelstoke Mountain Resort. The freelance writing books I got for Christmas (thank you, Secret Santa! Well, not so secret now. My uncle bought them for me. For some reason, he only ever gets my sister and I in Secret Santa, but I’m fine with that because he puts so much effort into it. I got my grandad and am super happy that he actually likes the sweater I bought him. He’s difficult to buy for. ) say to start a writing habit, so I’ve decided to blog my life almost every day in 2020, starting now. I want the rest of my posts to be more well researched and helpful, but I can’t let perfectionism paralyze me.
Every year, my dad takes me and my sister on a ski trip. This has expanded to my step-mum, whom my dad married in 2016, and my brother-in-law, who my sister married this year. My aunt, uncle, and cousins from Europe also join us.
Most of today was good, except I have a massive headache that’s only now going away. Honestly, I’d much rather feel any other kind of pain than a headache. Other pain hurts, but headaches mess with your mind.
This morning we went to La Bagette. That’s French for “The Bread.” It’s amazing how translating something into French makes it sound much more impressive. Case in point, my user name. Samanthaestchic sounds much better, and less arrogant, than Samantha is classy.
I had a smoked salmon bagel, which was all I wanted, but I also had a maple latte. People think Canadians love maple, but it’s just forced on us from a young age. I mean, I love maple syrup, but I’m never having a maple latte again.🤢
After we left the restaurant, we went up the gondola. Revelstoke is different than Golden, where we went last year, in that it’s bigger and there’s more space. Every one gets on the same gondola, but then there’s room to spread out. The funny thing is that, unlike Sunshine, the gondola doesn’t have a turning station, so it’s two separate gondolas. You have to get off the first gondola and then get on the second one.
I liked skiing, but like I said, I had a headache and my dad didn’t feel well, so he left before lunch. My sister, step-mom, aunt, uncle, and oldest cousin (she’s seven; her brother and sister are five and three respectively and they were in day-care), went to Wok Bar and Grill. I had a steak sandwich instead of something with rice. I think most stuff on the menu was spicy and I can’t handle spicy foods, so I thought a steak sandwich was a safe bet.
After lunch, the plan was for all of us (minus my step-mom who went back to our room to check on my dad and make a work call) to ski, but my aunt realized she accidentally took someone else’s skis, so she had to reload the gondola, and I skied with my sister, uncle, and cousin. That was fine, except…my cousin is a good skier, but she’s seven. She skis in control, but she’s seven. She knows how to stop, but she’s seven. Did I mention she’s seven?
I don’t want to insult snowboarders, so I’ll just let that sentence hang in the air and go on to the next one. My cousin is seven, and she looks like she’s seven, so people (*cough*mostly boarders*cough*) should have slowed down when they passed her. They didn’t. Instead, they’d cut her off or cut off my sister who was guiding her, or they’d yell, “On your right!” like that makes a difference when she’s seven.🙄
Oh well. She needs to learn what boarders are like. By the way, if you’re a boarder and this offends you, dont argue with me, go out and change the stereotype. And by the way, and this goes to skiers and snowboarders, easy runs are for beginners, not for experts who want to ski/board out of control.
Now I’m writing this and waiting for the last bit of my headache to go away. My sister and brother-in-law are making dinner, spaghetti I think, so my step-mom and sister are at Safeway and my dad and brother-in-law are chatting in the living room. “Did you get new boots this year?”
I thought writing this would be hard, but I’m glad I did this. It’s fun to blog the old fashioned way, back before everyone wanted to make money. Of course, I’d like to make money, but I also just want to use blogging to tell my story and who I am, as well as see if I can write 1,500 words away. I’m not sure if I can; this post will only end up being just over 800 words, but that’s okay. If I keep this up, I’ll learn to blog 1,500 words, and by the end of the year I’ll have a memoir of my life…or at least my life in 2020.
Thanks for reading today! If you want to connect with me on social media, I’m on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, all under samanthaestchic.