Olympic Nostalgia

So when I was about eight years old, the Roots Olympic clothing line featured a poor boy hat I didn't take off. It was a pretty lame accessory for an eight year old girl but I loved it. One day my father and I went to go pick up my mother at the airport and I was of course sporting my team Canada hat while waiting for my mother to arrive. Once she did, she excitingly told us that Celine Dion had been on her plane and she got her autograph for us. See that may seem lame but the year was 1998 and Titanic the movie was less than a year old making Celine a still very A-list celebrity. Anyways not before my mother could explain the courage she required before asking for the autograph, walked out into the limo line. My parents encouraged me to go meet her and tell her I was a fan. So I approached Celine Dion and have no recollection of what I may have said but I do now what she said..."I like your hat". You may be wondering how this is relevant but it is I promise. So a week or two ago my mother and I ventured into the Bay to check out their Team Canada collection that we saw advertised and fell in love with. Most of the pieces were still not available (like the plaid henley I have on my wishlist) but we did pick up their awesome trapper hat.

I am a fan of the olympics and supporting my country, so I was pleased

that the team Canada line was all made in Canada but was shocked to see that their accompanying Vancouver 2010 line was made overseas.

Tsk Tsk Hudson Bay Tsk Tsk.

Corn Roast Kind of Weekend

My last weekend of freedom before entering the world of higher education was spent secluded up north. Cell phoneless, internetless, and friendless was not how I intended to savour my last bit of vacation. Unfortunately, Labour Day weekend / Grandma’s birthday is not a time you disobey your mother’s request to have you up at the country house. Despite my mother promising that I could spend the weekend in town, I knew that she was just saying this as a way to guilt me into coming. So on Saturday morning I packed my bag and headed up north. The lack of cell reception or internet connection could have been tolerable had I had a friend along for the weekend. After exhausting my “resources”, I found out that all my friends and my acquaintances were occupied with frosh recovery, their part time job, a wedding or their own form of family fun.

Upon arriving at the country house, I was welcomed by an ecstatic mother who was assured by my presence that her guilt still worked. Expecting the worse from this weekend I was relieved to see clear blue sky. Figuring this was a sign of things to come I relaxed and decided to make the best of it. Big mistake. Three hours later I found myself drunk at a corn roast with hicks averaging the age of 65. Cool.

At least all that intense partying left me ready to head back to school...