I’m sitting inside a local coffee shop, sipping at a large green tea.
My period is making me feel nauseated.
I figured that ski resorts aren’t really my cup of tea. Why I came up here before snow season? I don’t know.
I remember that it was July 1996 when I first visited Whistler. We travelled with an Asian group travel organizer. All we did was stop at certain popular places, take pictures, have Chinese dinners and stay at renowned hotels. Now I’m doing all that again, minus hotels, plus extensive hiking and other in-depth explorations.
However, not today. I didn’t dress warm enough to rent a bike. My muscles are tense from yesterday’s hike and climb on Grouse Mountain.
The only conversation I’ve had here was with a girl working in a gemstone store. I had to pretend I was good at small talk. I still don’t understand how people can talk enthusiastically about things they don’t give a shit about. Anyway, she was from Calgary, or her parents were. I seem to hear and see Calgary a lot lately.
My arms are sore. I think that was my toughest climb, so far, or hike. I slipped a lot and lost count of the number of trees that I hugged so that I wouldn’t fall. (Je risque de me blesser tres fort.)
I will save mountain biking and rock climbing for next summer in the Rockies once the ski season is over. I’m not into winter sports. I just feel like I should be into it.
The foggy hills remind me of Sun Peaks, except the cold here isn’t as bad.
I almost asked someone if there was a church nearby. But I guess I’m doing ok. I saw some falling leaves on the way here…
According to my horoscope, I will have an opportunity to shine by taking on new responsibilities. Someone will tap me for a new project that has much potential.
In fact, I’m not too sure why I came here. I just sent a postcard illustrating the Inukshuk stone landmark, which I haven’t even seen; I’m such a cheater. Did I see it in 1996? I don’t recall; I don’t even care!
Wake up, P.
Once again. One last time.
Why am I here?
Several European flags hang horizontally from the bike rentals’ building: Portugal, Spain, France, Great Britain and Germany, except that the German flag is all tangled up and not blowing. I feel like my tongue is twisted, and I can’t utter a word! All I’ve been doing is tye myself into knots. FUCK!
I don’t like my view from here anymore.
So why am I…
Okay, I can’t remember who said it, but apparently, we’re here for the “little details,” things that appear trivial, but one day when I look back, all these little details will have formed a ring of fire. Ah, yes, it was in The Crow when Eric said all the trivial things matter.
I plan to visit friends in Seattle soon and look forward to visiting Bruce’s and Brandon’s gravesite. It will be different from Kafka’s grave, I’m sure. Kafka didn’t save me in my dream.
My mind wanders…
Thinking about people who think I’ve forgotten them. I tend to remember people by our conversations and their hesitations and reactions to my misinterpretations because I can’t express myself.
Another green tea.
They didn’t fill up the cup this time, maybe because I’ve been here for over an hour without tipping. I feel bad. The green tea isn’t really dispelling the sense of nausea.
Not here in fucking Whistler anyway.
