Lydia & Julz Go Large Week 18

Week Update 18

We attended the much hyped about End Party, to end the Telus Festival which consisted of over 1000 attendees and pushed the curfew boundaries of Whistler to 4am (usually a 2am lock out). A local politician quoted, "If you make it through the Telus Festival without drugs and with your clothes still on, you shouldn't be here in the first place."As the event was sponsored by Durex, the décor remained in theme with scattered condoms all over the floor and the walking stis’parading around in there bikini’s advocating safe sex by stashing a handful of condoms into each girls purse- 10 for you, 20 for them! After all, condoms are a very valuable commodity, one of which glued itself onto the heel of my shoe, trailing behind me like toilet paper that found itself tucked into your undies- don't look so mortified, we've all been there, I just wish I had an idea of the length of time the condom made itself at home on my shoe. Then there were the guys gathering up condoms, planning evil genius ways to dispense them, only able to muster up enough intelligence to blow them up and bounce them off potential pick-up’s heads- some people are just all too smooth for there own good. As resourceful little boys go,earlier in the week I was walking through the village and a group of guys  standing on a balcony above me had attached a condom onto a fishing rod, trying to hook girls that walked past- well, I was the trout  that was smacked in the cheek with a condom- Whistlerites have way too much time on there hands. The ski bums are completely exempt from any obligations concerning morale, although in there defence, I’m sure the cider is significant in this equation. Like most people our age, life would not be complete without an embarrassing moment that echoed through the walls of self esteem. I’m sure our parents would not only have one cow, but the whole damn farm if they knew we were given an endless supply of condoms. There was so much action during this tasteful time, we didn't seem out of place, and certainly no odder than the guy on the side of the stage wearing fashionably ill spandex pants and dancing to M.C Hammer tunes, who remembered my 'Big fish, little fish, put it in a box' move from Australia Day. He was clearly promoting that there were a few diamonds in the rough.  Note: don't underestimate men in spandex. It cuts off circulation but improves memory skills somehow, this was a lesson that I should have learnt from the leprechauns from St. Patrick's Day. A great portion of the so-called locals of Whistler are in fact Australian, not exactly a culture shock when you arrive here but have earnt the reputation of waking up with a hang over after a five month bender still ready to go out and party some more as soon as he steals a clean shirt from his unsuspecting roommate.

One of the stalls at the Telus Festival were giving away free flavoured milk bottles on the hour and as Julia and I were working together, she ducked out to get us some free milk on the hour. Keeping in mind that this picture postcard lifestyle provides for an empty dinner plate, so the mere thought of a freebie in this town, sends locals a little crazy hence I sent Julia to get the milk. Julia sprinted down early to beat the rush, only to have to fight her way through the crowd- this girl has watched way too many Jerry Springer episodes. She finally got her hands on two milk bottles, when a little boy next to her throw up his complimentary milk, splashing over Julia's ballet flat. Just when you think you get ahead in life, life throws you a bit of spew.

Love 

Lydia and Julia x

Lydia & Julz Go Large Week 17

Week Update 17

This week is the Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival which consists of 10 days of free concerts, where visitors and residents alike swarm around in foul weather- the festival a sort of right of passage for the rest of the year. I have never been to a concert with so many Kathmandu jackets in sight, I wonder who the Einstein was that organised such an event during the second snowiest season on record. Well...as intelligent decisions go, we were amongst the blue crowd, too cold to throw our hands above our heads along to the hip hop tunes to the likes of Swollen Members and Tokyo Police Club. Don't feel bad we have no idea what the kids of today are listening to, the idea is to just stand there looking as gangster as possible, bopping your head and throwing in the term "Sick!" every now and again. We're already out of place with the lack of body piercings, baggy mismatched clothes and our inability to use the term Epic correctly. How gangster does one really have to look in the dangerous hood of Whistler?! There is an ecstasy that comes with the festival, as there is an influx of tourists which has brought in more talent to the village and let's not forget about the showbag freebies that has provided an endless supply of chuppa chups. We have tickets to the 'End Party' on the weekend which doesn't finish until 4am, where all the famous snowboarders and skiers will do there thing, although it's not like we're going to know which ones they are.

We were out on Saturday night for our friend Renee's birthday where we treated ourselves out for dinner at Earls, a nice change from eggs on toast and bananas for that matter. As Renee is a Melbourne girl, she too was suffering separation anxiety from her high heels, so we thought we'd make a night of it and dress up with high heels. Wearing high heels is not like riding a bike, two rolled ankles later and trying to subdue the pain of heels with wine (which makes for a nice change from drinking cider from a subway cup) we had to cut the night short- I knew we should have stashed our ballet flats in our Kathmandu jacket pockets, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Before the rolled ankles, Julia and I spent the afternoon trying to do up the zipper of my high heeled boots which was a task and a half. After the strained "You hold the top and pull it together, while I'll try to yank it up," we agreed that the last 20cm of the zipper didn't look too bad undone and the bit of calf popping out wasn't that noticeable. After moving on from the self conscious notion of sticking out like two drag queens in red neck city, we went to Maxx Fish where the highlight was the fire display on the bar which came on beside us with no word of warning, that party trick could see for singed eyebrows- a law suit waiting to happen. There was also a guy walking around with black marker asking girls to draw on him, well if that's not asking for a doodle to be drawn on him, I don't know how direct he needs to be- I was clearly the only one to pick up on his subtlety and draw one on him- your welcome.

Our roommate (the one we don't like) is going away for a couple of weeks, so to help send him off, our other roommate (the one we do like) thought it would be funny to wrap clumps of icing sugar up in glad wrap to look like cocaine bombs and hide a few stashes through his bag. The things we do to keep ourselves entertained.

 It's official, we are kinda somebody here in Whistler, we've made it to the papers

Love

Lydia and Julia x


P.S I have had to source out a new coffee shop after running into the glass door at Moguls Coffee Shop!

Lydia & Julz Go Large Week 16

Week Update 16

We've had a much needed quiet couple of weeks, due to being on the brink of bursting a lung and the lack of self control when we're out, as all voice of reason is thrown to the wind, we've limited the going out to once or twice a week. The checklist on the "What did we do last night?" is rampantly evolving, so we've had to nip it in the bud with throwing in a few Jerry Springer marathons!

Although, our roommate invited us to a house party, which we ended up missing, as we were all too engrossed in a dice drinking game which robbed us of 4litres of cider, if only we could remember that 4 and 1 is touch your nose! Our ability to count was impaired by the cider. For $8, the substance just takes, takes, takes-  our judgment, vision, speech, dignity. We ended up having a massive night, going to both Moe Joe's and Tommy Africas, another night of being slapped with the glow paint stick. The highlight being that we had a much craved for beef burrito, and there is nothing like being all-consumed by the taste of a burrito in the early hours of the morning. Just as I got onto the bus, my burrito slipped out of my hand and onto the bus. I don't think I can convey enough of the full drama of my emotional meltdown. I put it down the bus service's innate ability to make my life more complicated- when in doubt, blame the bus company.

Cash flow is a mysterious force in our household, always enough for a berry flavoured cider but never seem to have enough for a steak. We had a banana for dinner the other night during a black out. And as Julia came up the stairs with the banana, she "accidentally" (that term is debatable) throw the banana to me (or at me), bruising my cheek bone. Times are tough, when you're wished good night with a bruised banana and cheekbone. I now know why a great portion of the long term residents of Whistler look like malnourished Afghan hounds.


We went to local night at Buffalo Bills, as we hadn't been since Julia dislocated her knee, even the bouncer had noted on our arrival that we hadn't been in for a few weeks. As soon as we got in there, I was cornered by a guy that I'd met the first night in Whistler, where he took it upon himself to be ever so charming (this was the guy who thought I would be flattered by the name of Pocahontas), sharing his feelings of what a complete bitch I was. As he had walked me home on my first night out and as I wasn't 100% sure where I actually lived, we walked round for a solid 2 hours until I found our condo, in minus degree temperatures. He asked whether he could come inside just for a minute to gain some feeling back in his fingers and I virtually slammed the door in his face (his choice of words not mine). And apparently he had to take a few days off work after that night, as he caught the flu and had to see a doctor with a possible case of frost bite. Is it just me or are guys sounding more like girls these days- the sensitivity roles have reversed?

After a couple of charitable dances, whipping out my sexy 'Big fish, little fish put it in a box' dance moves, I escaped to the nearest exit, only to get to coat check and realise that Julia took my Kathmandu jacket, as there was only one ticket for our jackets, and she' d left early for another late night hot tub. Well...that's just dandy isn't it?

As I was on such a smooth role, I thought I would swing by the coffee shop to subtlety check out the hot guy that works there. After babbling and slurring to the hot coffee guy in a very poor attempt to flirt, I talked andtalked, as girls do when there are awkward silences, only to have the realisation dawn on me that I was in fact the only one contributing to the conversation. As my conversational skills were on the fast track to nowhere, I thought a sexy hair flip would get me back in the game- the only thing that came of that was an unnecessary neck pain. This situation was so much more romantic in my head. As if my strike out rate hadn't already peaked, I was walking out backwards, with a closing line of "I'll talk to you later" underlining subtext of "Call me!" and then SMACK! I walked right into the glass door on my way out- another case of adding insult to injury. I was so mortified that as soon as everything was intact, my dignity excluded I walked out to the sound of sadistic laughter, I'm not going to hold my breath for a call back!

I sat at the bus stop by myself, without my Kathmandu jacket reflecting on the "situation" back there in the coffee shop, and just when I thought my night couldn't get any grimmer, the woman sitting beside me had no qualms about discussing her Chlamydia scare in front of an audience of complete strangers- talk about an awkward night.

Love

Lydia and Julia x

Lydia & Julz Go Large Week 15

Week Update 15

This week we've been introduced to the American frat boy game of 'beer pong', hardly the sort of ping pong game you would find in Thailand but both with the common action of dodging slippery ping pong balls that fly in all directions. This is the perfect game for pre-drinks, aside from the ping pong marks imprinted on your forehead, it is so much fun and is definitely worth introducing to you all when we get back home!

Who would have thought that amongst the (I am yet to source out a better term for sausage fest) there were enough girls in Whistler to host an all girls event? The whopping 30 women that live in Whistler all congregated to the 'Pink Taco Party', where we celebrated our good friend Anika's last night in Whistler. As there was a mandatory dress code of 'wear something pink', we made our own pink fascinators- another cost-effective creation and we all topped it off with bright pink lipstick, which became the common denominator at the party, bringing out the nicotine stains of a great portion of the crowd's teeth just beautifully- It was Barbie's disco! And the only few Ken dolls that were around, were serving drinks and tapas, in a (whatever the opposite antonym for a sausage fest is- an Egg Salad according to the Urban Dictionary!), oh and let's not forget the tattooed Cupid that welcomed us in- as if the unlimited tacos weren't incentive enough. Kens' and Cupid were the victims of bitches on heat. One Ken thought I was amongst the feeding frenzy, as I was hunting him down all night, little did he know that it was because of his tray of chocolate cupcakes- like a moth to a flame!

We had such a great night, dancing the macarena on the podium to 'Girl's just want to have fun' . It could be these habits that might in fact be perpetuating our single state.
I thought I had the original idea of wearing a pink wig to the party, yeah that and 20 other women, which I later ended up spewing in. Nothing compromises the hair piece's ability to look sexy than a bit of recycled taco! We were in the midst of a taco hungry mob, and if there is one thing I've learnt this week, is that you do not stand in between a girl and her taco, well that and to steer clear of feather hair extension booths.


We woke to find that we each had a feather hair extension that was glued in our hair, I had a bright pink feather- pink of all colours, I think I can forget about wearing my new red rain hat and Julia woke to a bright blue one in her blonde hair- an obvious aftermath of copious amounts of cider. I guess in the bigger scheme of things, it's low on the spectrum of 'What the hell did we do last night?' closely behind waking up with a tattoo. In a state of vague panic at the trashy strand in our hair, Julia was upset at how deceiving the strobe lights are, as she distinctively remembers that the feather hair extension was a nice shade of aqua. As the lyrics go, "All the crazy shit I did last night, those will be the best memories."


Our very own paparazzi queen went berserk with the camera...again, taking near 50 photos from the night. Our attention must have been impaired by the triple shot margarita buckets, as when we'd looked through the photos the next morning, I couldn't help but notice that pink lipstick was everywhere but our lips- thank God, we were in a room full of Egg Salad!

Love

Lydia and Julia x