What’s Your Dream Holiday?

I’m fed up reading about other blogger’s going on holiday or planning holidays, I’m so jealous! In the past few weeks I’ve read about Rhys’s American dream, Han going first class to Florida, Jenn & family hitting the beach, Starlet being attacked by evil seagulls in Wales, to name but a few. Lucky, lucky people – you really are.

The last time I was on holiday was in 2005 and that was a weekend in Dublin with the boyfriend. Before that I think the last time I was abroad for a proper 2 weeks in the sun holiday was America when my little brother was 4 – he’s now 15!

Anybody else been to Vegas? Is it really as magical as it’s made out to be?

There’s only one real place that I want to go in the whole entire world – Las Vegas, baby! I’m been fascinated by the glitz, glamour, lights and gambling of Las Vegas for a very long time which was made a hella lot more intense with by my obsession of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

It’s my dream to stay in either Circus Circus or the Luxor before I’m 30. The boyfriend agrees, he’d love to go to Vegas too. And I kind of have it on a promise that if we ever went to Vegas it’d be acceptable to get married – and that’s never, ever going to happen in Scotland!

As always, the problem with going to Vegas is the money. We’re both terrible at saving money even for nice things like holidays and things. Plus we’d need gambling money so we’d have to stay in one of the many other hotels in Las Vegas that aren’t as famous or expensive as the Stratosphere or the Four Queens hotel just to fund our fun!

Ski Season, the start

Downstairs there are five pairs of goggles in various stages of wear. I need to find a pair compatible with my helmet for opening day next weekend at Powder king. Brand name goggles are expensive. In a week moment I succumbed to my inner snob and bought a pair using my trusty plastic. Last Christmas my partner bought me a helmet for those days when I run out of energy and have to go back to lift skiing.

I put my helmet on my head the moment after I unwrapped it and wore it most of the day, even to eat Christmas dinner. The following week at the ski hill I attached my goggles to the helmet, put it on my head and got on the lift. About halfway up the hill the wind blew down across the run making the chairs sway and me shiver.

I zipped my jacket all the way up, snuggled into my neck warmer and pulled my goggles down over my face. Something was wrong. Why was my forehead still cold? hadn’t I just put my goggles on? The only part of me exposed, I thought, was my nose and it felt fine.

I reached my hand up to my face and indeed my forehead was not covered. It wasn’t until I got off the lift that I was able to determine the goggles were at fault. Instead of going straight across, so that the helmet fit snuggly against them, they had an indentation like a vee. I had never noticed this before because I just pulled my toque down to my eyebrows.

Damned if I’m buying another pair of goggles. I’m sure one of those pair downstairs will do the job. This weekend I’m taking my curvaceous sexy pair because I’m going backcountry skiing and I can’t wait.

Author: Timothy Wilson

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