Merry Christmas

Jimmy (and his desk) wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas.

Have a nice day!!!

Essentially, my new job consists of being really, reeeaaally nice to people. On Wednesday I sat through 4 hours of corporate orientation, which was effectively one long lecture about how the company wants you to be outgoing, helpful and just generally gosh-darn friendly with everyone.

I don't have a problem with people. I like people. And common sense tells me people enjoying great snow, great food and even better beer in the world's best ski resort should stand even less chance than usual of getting on my tits. As much as the orientation flew by, and was actually surprisingly engaging, all the acronyms and talk of "creating memories" caught me a little off-guard.

On reflection, I think it's because I'm British. Back at home, the words "service culture" register with your average shop assistant or bartender about as much as the words "Hershey" or "line of scrimmage" - that is, not at all. British service is seldom about anything other than surliness, whereas in Canada (and I speak only for this most northern of countries, as we dont venture south of the border until May) the people in the shops are encouraged to be genuinely nice to you. And not in a high-street-branch-of-Gap, "Hi can I help you?", forced-smile-and-unconvincing-tone-of-voice kind of a way. Get this guys - they dont care any more or any less than you want to believe they do, but in a country where even the middle-aged blokes who drive the buses and the twenty-something ones who scan your lift passes are disarmingly friendly with you more often than not, you start believing.

I'm sure the first few days or smiling and asking perfect strangers how they are (starting at 7:45am tommorow) will be exhausting, but I'm very open to the idea that it will, in time, make me a better person.

Christmas cheer (and other additions to our digs)

Tis the season, after all, so yesterday Anna and I ventured to a faraway little corner of Whistler called Function Junction (which is known by a number of other names, the most memorable of which is 'Erection Section' - but that's quite enough of that) and paid a visit to the Re-Use It Centre, a kind of thrift store on steriods. After trawling thoughts quite literally lots of stuff, we happened across some splendid coloured lights and a rather spiffing wreath.

But our pride and joy and the fruit of my lady's creative flair is our 'Christmas Table':

Finally, after hearing they were selling a whole batch off cheap, I bought this telly from a hotel in the village.


We are now officially settled in.

Oh how I laughed.

Today was an amusing day for two reasons:

1. On leaving a bar this lunchtime (I had a hot chocolate) I was approach by a Canadian snowboarder who asked me if I knew where he could get any weed. Except that wasn't how he put it - the phrase he used was "Dude, you know where I can snag some doesh?" (spelling, anyone?). I was a little taken aback and had to ask him to repeat himself, before issuing a very English "No, sorry I've no idea mate" and heading for the lift.
   

2. My moustache froze as I skiied down the last couple of runs. Crunchy.