I got nothin'.

I have become a creative sieve. I cannot think of anything that could even remotely interest anyone. So I'll just fill you in on my week so far.

I went to Sunshine today. Snowboarding. I hate to admit it, but this is the first time I've been out all year. It's embarassing because it's something I love doing so much. The wind today was incredible. I've never seen anything like it. I could hardly see a foot in front of me most of the time. It snowed all morning and cleared up a bit later in the afternoon. I did not anticipate how windy it would be when I left this morning, so I was a little cold on the lifts. Next time I'll take my vest. I doubt Doyle will ever read this, but the socks he gave me for Christmas? Incredible. My feet were so toasty! Usually by lunch I have to switch socks, and after a full day of snowboarding, my sweaty feet are always freezing. I only wore the one pair of socks - and my toes were cozy for the whole damn day! Absolutely incredible. I should frame them.

All in all, my day was very enjoyable. Lots of snow, a tasty hot dog at lunch, toasty toes... I can't ask for much more. No major injuries - just a raccoon face, a burnt tongue, and a small bump on my forehead. (That wasn't actually caused by a snowboarding accident per se, I just happened to sling my boot towards my face rather than over my shoulder... nothing out of the ordinary there.)

This past weekend, my Mum came to visit her hairdresser. She stayed in my apartment though. We saw The Matador - which was a scream. Pierce Brosnan was hysterical. I think this has become my Mum's new favorite movie.

Right now I'm reading an advanced copy of Augusten Burroughs' new book, Possible Side Effects, which is funny in that typical Augusten Burroughs sort of way, but also sort of tedious. And scattered. I get that he came from an extremely dysfunctional family and all, and that he was an alcoholic... but goddamn it, he's a fucking millionaire now. How sorry do I have to feel for him? Plus he uses the same metaphor in two separate stories. Which is weak. But he's still funny.

I just finished a book called A Little History of the World by E.H. Gombrich, which is this wonderful book written by an Austrian in 1935. The author updated and translated it into English just before he died in 2005. It's a book about important events in world history that have somehow shaped or contributed to the state of the world today. The book is intended for children (very intelligent children from what I gathered.) I found it very refreshing indeed. What I especially enjoyed was that typically, books on history tend to have a very Anglo-centric slant, whereas Gombrich focused only briefly on British history. However, my only criticism would be that he almost entirely ignored the history of Native North Americans and Africans, and he failed to mention Canada or Australia even once. He spent a lot of time discussing World War I & II, but focused on the heroics of the American troops - which I found strange seeing as America was the last country to join these wars, and Canada played such a huge part... but I digress. Perhaps if Gombrich had lived a little longer, he may have also been able to add a chapter on the Cold War - which would have been an interesting introduction to economics for the children this book was intended for.

A note on my descent into spinsterhood:
Yesterday I paid a visit to my friendly neighbourhood optometrist. He said that if my eyesight continues to deteriorate at the rate it is now, by this time next year I will need bifocals. So we've got braces, bifocals.... Mum - if you're reading this: you might as well keep buying me weiner dog figurines, calendars, tote bags, coffee mugs, and t-shirts... I've got this spinster thing in the bag.