Well, some of us were more like old mama bears than cougars, but we all had a wild good time reconnecting at a weekend in Whistler, thanks to Deb's generosity in sharing her family chalet for the weekend.
What do five 39-year-olds who haven't seen much of each other in 22 years get up to when reunited for 36 hours? Well, we all had our priorities. Anne was seeking fresh air, exercise, rest, reunion, relaxation, and conviviality, but wasn't opposed to a few martinis either. Kirsten and Deb are no strangers to the party scene, and wanted to make sure we experienced it. Michele and Colleen were looking forward to reconnecting with old friends and escaping the demands of small children (as we all were). And we all wanted to laugh together like we did when we were 12!
Anne, the fitness/nature freak of the bunch, insisted on a short hike to start the weekend before we got to more hedonistic activities, so good sports all, we loaded into the minivan and drove five minutes to the road leading to Cheakamus Lake, before immediately turning around when presented with a sign saying "Trail closed. Extreme bear warning!" -- Extreme bear warning! And some of us were menstruating! No thanks! Anne asked Colleen if her driving was safe enough for Colleen's mum, who had asked if she was a safe driver. "She would have really approved of the turning around at the bear sign!" Colleen replied.
So much for hiking. Back to the chalet to change to our first transition outfit, for the shopping part of the tour. ("Um, I was just planning to wear the same outfit all day," said Anne.) Our afternoon exercise was strolling the Village, going in and out of shops, and then traipsing a long way through the hotel district to the Four Seasons to a martini bar Kirsten had raved about.
Well, the martinis were $14 each, but they were worth it. We sampled various, with vanilla drop being popular. Anne tried an exotic passionfruit one, as well as an ice wine and 'chambord' combo. Very comfy/ritzy setting, living beyond our rational means temporarily.
We had planned to go for a nice dinner out, but something about three martinis before dinner makes you less inclined for fine dining, so it was back to the chalet, after a semi-inebriated stop at the liquor and grocery stores.
Then into the hot tub for some of us, for some refined wine drinking, although the partiers in the crew thought sambucca shooters were also apropo.
After this action-and-alcohol-packed afternoon, Anne was ready for bed or at least a night of relaxation, and changed into her Adidas to signify her intent to skip the "clubbing" part of the evening. As a long-long-longtime partnered woman, she had very little experience with the club scene and didn't feel she was missing it.
But the party girls insisted, so the homebodies dragged themselves off the couch, "just for a couple of drinks," after a quick dinner of pasta.
"Hey," said Anne. "Where are our priorities? We just spent $200 on cocktails and $10 on dinner."
"Welcome to my world!" said the single-and-loving-it Kirsten.
The club was loud, thumpy, crowded, and full of young women (24 but looking 12) celebrating various stagettes. As the night wore on men interested in these and other women started to appear. Colleen, Michele, and Anne stayed in the background, initially glued to their seats, being good sports and drinking but not "engaging in the total club experience".
Eventually we were scoped by a generous Greek fellow and his buddy, who thought some of us looked like fun and some of us really needed some loosening up. He bought us one round of shooters, which was a nice gesture, and naive Anne thought that would be the end of him. But no. He sensed a challenge in Anne, who owns no "club clothes", and was still wearing her fall cords and long-sleeved shirt from the day, her loafers, and her eye-glasses. He continued to order rounds, asking Anne, can I buy you another drink?
"You REALLY don't want to buy me a drink." (Subtext: there's no-one less appropriate in this club for your drink-buying generosity. I find all of this anthropologically fascinating but I'm really not a party girl, and I'm very happily married -- see that ring? -- and no, I won't be 'loosening up' and I'm only here as a good sport for my friends, etc etc but it was too loud to explain all that.) So it devolved into him gesturing "drink?" and me shrugging nonchalantly, and Michele laughing wildly at the odd scenario. Finally he sat next to us and it was way too loud for small talk and I didn't want to anyway, so when he asked, "Do you want me to go away?" I looked at him and said "Yes!" That worked! Although, I must say, he was the first man to EVER buy me a drink in a club so I guess he has a special place in my book of memories.
Of course we were all fairly wasted when we got back to the chalet, and had a good time rocking out for awhile. Kirsten retreated for her beauty sleep, wisely, and Deb and I went up to check on Colleen and Michele, who were sharing the master king-size bed. Well, I know when I'm too tired to keep partying, so I retreated to my basement nook pretty quickly.
To my surprise, in the morning I found that Deb had zonked out right between Colleen and Michele, who found it a tight squeeze all night but were too polite to wake their hostess. "It was just like home," said Colleen, "when my daughter climbs between my husband and I, but Deb was a lot bigger!"
Anne felt perhaps the best in the morning, having a strong capacity for drink despite not being a club person. "Why don't you feel as bad as me?" lamented (apparently not high-maintenance at all) Colleen. Michele was not well but was stoic about it, skipping breakfast so she'd be up for the extreme sport adventure of the afternoon. The rest of us enjoyed delicious fritattas prepared by Kirsten, and each others company, after a quick pyjama run to the store to buy eggs, as the ones we were supposed to use were home in Colleen's fridge.
Then it was time for Michele and Anne to "zip-trek" (see www.ziptrek.com). Colleen doesn't like extreme stuff and the other two had done it before, so we said our goodbyes, and headed off with our very hunky guides and fellow adventurers off into the forest, where we walked onto platforms suspended in tall trees, were attached by harness to pulleys, and sent zooming off on cables across raging Fitzimmons Creek. Very exhilarating -- five zips each in all -- a lot of fun, and a nice change from the daily routine.
After a post-trek chili dog, and a chatty drive home with Michele, the adventure ended.
We all still liked each other a quarter-century later, we all reverted to our roles of those days somewhat, but we had all grown up enough to indulge each others' quirks and interests. And we laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
Thanks, fellow Coquitlamites. Let's do it again!
Anne
