General Musings on our Canadian Ski Vacation

Did you know Canadians measure temperature in Celcius and time in Military time? There's a big sign thing at the top of the mountain that tells you the temperature and the time, I'm mostly confused. People keep saying "it's negative 2" and I think they mean fahrenheit which would be super cold, but its really only 27, which isn't that bad. And why is fahrenheit so hard to spell? Also if its past 1 o'clock I have no idea what time it is because my brain doesn't work in military time. 14 hundred is hot chocolate time to me.

Canadian women wear lipstick when they ski. First of all, not a speck of my skin shows for the most part when I ski, and second, the last thing I care about is if I have on lipstick. I'm too worried about frostbite and falling and biting off my tongue to worry about lipstick. The fact that I own one tube of lipstick probably weights in on this as well.

I don't have lipstick on, I just pinched my lips.

Canadians use a lot of windshield washer fluid, and they make art out of the empty bottles.

People here speak French. The extent of my French language knowledge is: "Voule vou achoucher avec moi?" Not something I want to actually say to anyone.

Especially not him. 

I also know how to say "Bonjour!" For the first day I said it to a bunch of people thinking it would help me fit in. Not so much. It could be that I butcher the language so badly that everyone knows I am an impostor, or that no one actually says hello to everyone they see.

If someone around me is speaking a different language I automatically assume they are talking about me. Today someone definitely was talking about me, he was point his ski pole right at me. For the most part though I try to play it off as me being paranoid.

Every annoying thing I do I think "Oh no, I am THAT American".

This picture doesn't really fit here but I thought it was funny. 

I feel like I am in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley when walking around the village.

Charlie crashed into me the first run of our first day and his skis ended up in the woods. Moral of the story is, don't take a black diamond on your first run with freshly waxed skis.

There is a trail named after me. Not really though. It was my favorite trail until I remembered how steep it is.

This mountain is huge. Seriously. It's really pretty too.  I do a great job of taking panoramic pictures that make it look like no one else is on the mountain. There really are people here, but I just wait for them to get out of the picture.

The best part about skiing is having Charlie next to me on the chair lift where he can't get away from me so I can ask him tons of questions and talk talk talk and he has to listen, or at least pretend.

Waiting in line for the first lift up to the top of one peak was well worth the wait. "Le Edge" we'll be back tomorrow.

Hot chocolate is delicious. I already knew that though.

This is how you keep your skis from getting stolen. When they aren't locked up I have to carry around the key in my coat pocket. I am so afraid that I will fall and impale myself with the key.

 You can ski right up to our hotel. Here is the trail.

These are my facial expressions when skiing. 1.) AHHHH 2.) Oh no, 3.)Eeek, I'm about to die 4.) I'm alive wahoo!

No lipstick was used in creating this graphic. 

 That's about it. We're having a great time.

Lauren!