A dog's life in Nuremberg

One of the funniest things of the past week, has been watching Lucy get used to German life.

Bringing her over was definitely one of my biggest fears and the thought of her being in a kennel for 15 hours made me break out in a cold sweat. This is after all a dog who’s never spent an hour in a kennel and who cowers at the noise of trucks on the street.


I was advised against drugging her so went with the natural alternative my vet recommended. It didn’t really calm her per se since she was playing Frisbee and wrestling with J right until she had to go in the kennel. Once she was put in the kennel and wheeled away by the luggage crew, I almost started crying. My poor girl, in the cargo hold of the plane for 15 hours!


When I picked her up at the luggage caroussel in Nuremberg 15 hours later, she looked a little shaken up but was no worse for wear: I was thrilled!


Since then, it’s been a grand adventure for her. Every morning we’ve gone for long walks along the river or in the moat of the castle.


One of the great things about Germany is how dog friendly it is. Dogs can pretty much go anywhere except for groceries stores and most restaurants (I say most because some let dogs in as long as they sit quietly under the table)


Cue the first grand adventure. We went to a huge electronics store to buy a blow dryer. It didn’t occur to me that she’d never been on an escalator before. She locked up all 4’s and stood in front of it and looked at me with an “are you nuts” look on her face. She very hesitantly stepped on to it but everytime we’d walk past it, would lock up all 4’s like one of those shopping carts you take past the parking lot.


Next day, time to find the closest pet store. There didn’t seem to be one directly in the city, and I don’t have the loaner car yet so we took the subway. Dogs are also allowed on the subway here (and need a special ticket) so off we went on the subway. With more escalators. The escalator was still the enemy but she managed. Then came the subway, with the gap between the platform and train, the noises, the announcement and the movement (oh and the drunk German guy who kept talking to her in German)


It’s been funny to watch her get used to German life. So far, she’s in heaven. Hour and a half long walks every day along the river, snow, sticks and now she gets to go almost everywhere I go.


Starting Monday, there’s a dog walker coming to walk her everyday to alleviate some pressure off me while I get used to the new job and commute.


Nuremberg could just be Lucy’s heaven!

Moving to Germany!

After months of planning, thinking and saying goodbye, the day had come for me to get on the plane and make the biggest move of my life: to Nuremberg, Germany.

Saying goodbye was hard.  Conciously leaving your friends, family, co-workers and newly met guy of my dreams behind was emotional.  For a fleeting moment, I wondered why on earth I was making this move when I was leaving a pretty good life behind, but as much as I was going to miss friends, family, co-worker, guy of my dreams, I knew this was something I had to do.

So after an emotional and tearful weekend of goodbyes, I was on the plane. With Lucy and 3 suitcases of my earthly possesions.

We got picked up by the relocation consultant.  One of the things that makes this move bearable is that I get essentially a "personal assistant" for 6 months.  The relocation consultant's job is to find me a place to live, do all of the work permit/tax card/registration running around, help me buy a car and basically help me get settled into life. 

After dropping off Lucy and my baggage, it was time to look at the first apartment.  Talk about no time for jet lag to set in or to pine for the life you left behind! Tuesday was packed full with apartment viewings, picking out health insurance, personal insurance, dog insurance (Germans sure like their insurance! There's even glass insurance) and town hall registration.

My head is still reeling from all that's going on, but after 3 days, I "may" have found a place to live.  It's a cute 1 bedroom apartment in a great residential neighborhood walking distance to the old city and the castle.  fingers crossed!

Moving day

As I type, there are 3 men loading all of my worldly possesions into a moving truck.  As exciting as this new prospect is, there is something quite melancholy to see all your life's possesions be packed away not to be seen for months.  I've been in this place for just over 6 years which is amazingly, the longest I've been in any one home.  As many times as I've moved, I've only had movers once.  These movers have been hired to not only load my stuff but pack it.  It is a little odd to see 3 burly guys pack your nighties away, but other than that, I'm enjoying my post on the couch watching as they work.

For the first time during this experience, I've experienced fear.  Well, more like scared shitless.  I'm giving up absolutely everything/everyone I know for a new life in Germany.  Thing is, my life here is/was pretty good.  No complaints.  Good job, good family, good social circle, the works.  But when this opportunity came along, I know I couldn't pass it up.  Yes, it'll do wonders for my career, but the experience of living and working overseas is something I've wanted to experience.  Thing is, doing it (alone nonetheless) is one hell of a nerve wracking experience!   I have no doubt this will be an amazing experience and I'm not getting cold feet.  But there is something to be said for abandoning everything you know when it's not that bad to begin with....

Pinch me, 2010

It's the last day of 2010.  To say that 2010 has been an adventurous year would be an understatement!  After a rough few years, 2010 has really made the rough times "worth it".

It started out fairly uneventfully, but then spring came and I went to my first girl guide camp.  Then I found out I was chosen to go on the NOLS month long backpacking and whitewater canoeing adventure.  A work trip to Vietnam that was memorable, being headhunted by one of the world's leading sports companies, a whirlwind "go see" trip to Germany, and here I am finishing the year in Florida with a great guy (damn you Murphy and your laws!)

As cheesy as it sounds, I feel like I've had it all this year.  And I don't want to take a hint of advantage of it and want to appreciate it every step along the way.

Less than a month from now, I'll be living in Germany starting another adventure and chapter of my life.  Well, 2010, you've proved to be amazing.  2011, you have big shoes to fill!

Landing a new job, the 2010 way.

Next month, I'll be moving to Germany.  Three months ago, I'd have called you insane for even suggesting such wildness.  Though I've spent a lot of 2010 figuring out "what next?" I never would have imagined a transatlantic move in my future.  But now, the contract is signed, the movers are scheduled and I'm super excited to be starting this new chapter in my life.

What's more incredible, is that I didn't go looking for this opportunity, it came looking for me!  Never in a million years did I imagine that when I signed up for LinkedIn, did I think it would lead me to a job. With an amazing and leading world renown company no less!  But a very incomplete profile and being part of a relevant industry group led the recruiter to me and here I am, the most exciting opportunity of my life! 

When it's meant to be...

It's funny, 3 months ago, if you told me I was going to move overseas, I would have killed myself laughing.  However, in the strange ways that life works, I'll be moving to Germany in 2 months.  Even though I've signed my contract and given notice at work, it still doesn't seem real.

It's not very often you change your job and home at the same time.  Never mind doing it halfway around the world.  Needless to say, there are things a ton of things to do and think about.  Remarkably, it's not nearly as hard as I would have imagined.  I say this with a large caveat though... it's not as hard when you get help.  Because I've signed on with an awesome company, I'm offered a relocation package that will make transitioning to my new life a whole lot easier.  Like movers.  That will come and pack all my stuff and unpack at the other end.  And a relocation person.  Quite possibly, the best thing ever offered.  I have an assigned relocation person that will help me survive in my new surroundings.  Her job is to show me around the area, set up appointments for apartments, help me buy a car, set me up with a bank account and almost anything else I need to manage my new life in a foreign land.  This service, is worth it's weight in gold.  I couldn't imagine manoevering thru this without a support person. 

I feel like there's more I should be doing right now.  But so far, I have to say, it's been smooth.  Things I thought would be difficult, like selling my car or getting out of cell phone contracts, have been ridiculously easy (the cell phone contract got transfered within an hour of being posted on craigslist and I've sold the car to a friend at a really good price in exchange for keeping it until I leave)  I guess it's all testament to the fact that when something is meant to be, it will be.  It'll happen. 

Still, it's hard to accept this is my life and this is happening.  I'm in awe, but I love it and cherish it!

New adventures

2010 has been a hell of a year. And in a good way. If anyone told me back in January, how my 2010 would turn out, I’d have slapped them silly.



It started out quietly enough, but after the adventures and excitement of my previous 2 years, it was much appreciated. The first big thing to have happened was of course my Yukon adventure. The next big thing that happened, was (I think) partially due to my Yukon adventure.


You see, when I was in the Yukon, I spent some time reflecting on life and thinking about which direction I was going to take it in. Part of that process was thinking of things I’d still like to experience in life. On that list was live and work overseas. I didn’t really have a plan as to what that would look like, but I thought I’d throw it on the list and figure it out later.


Well, 2 weeks later, the universe appeared to have figured it out for me. Less than 2 weeks later, I was on a work trip to Asia and received an email from an inhouse recruiter at Adidas. They were looking for someone with experience in the outdoor industry. Once I got more information, the job description was exactly what I was qualified for. And so, after 2 months of interviews and a quick trip to Herzogenerauch, Germany, the job was offered to me and the contract is signed.


I’m absolutely scared to death. New job, new place, new country. But it feels right. The timing in my life is perfect for this and I had no doubts on accepting the job. But it’s a big change.


I have a few fears like “will I ever be able to learn German?” Though I had a German grandmother and my mom speaks German, growing in a multicultured family meant streamlining languages and we didn’t get taught German. I do know some things like “excuse me, do you have an electrical outlet” and “this is a tablecloth” but I’m pretty sure that won’t get me very far.


I also fear developing a sudden love of euro pop and crocs. Thankfully, with the internet, I should be safe in avoiding those.
I’m sure I’ll have a ton of stories as I get ready for this new adventure, so stay tuned!!

Putting it out to the Universe

2010 has been an adventure.  Thankfully NOT in the way 2009 was an adventure.  Albeit 2009 was a necessary adventure to get me to where I am now, I'm thrilled to be finally emotionally balanced and not embarrasing myself by taking trapeze classes or wandering the world  to find myself or buying every shoe invented by mankind to make myself feel beter (they were all fun in their own way, but really? Am I ever going to strut around in 6" black patent Louboutins anytime soon?)

And so came 2010.  I started to breathe a little easier and think about the nasty "D" word I had to deal with during 2009.

The highlight thus far for sure was my NOLS Leadership course in the Yukon.  During that amazing experience, I had a chance to finally sit back and reflect on some of what I want in life.  Or at least, some of what I hope to experience.  I called it my "wish list" (bucket list is for old people and cheezy Jack Nicholson movies).  I wrote a few things and "put it out to the universe".  I'm not religious and I wouldn't even call myself spiritual.  My mom raised us with a deeply ingrained philosophy of "if it's meant to be, it'll be" and so I stand by that. 

Well, it seems like at least one of the things just might be meant to be.  I don't want to jinx anything quite yet, but one of those things is almost sure to happen.  I should know for sure next week :)  More details then!

Guest post on a mentor's blog!

I was recently asked by a mentor (and friend) to write a piece for her blog on my Yukon experience.  Nancy was my very awesome money coach for a time (until she moved to the NWT, good for her, not so much for me or my bank account...)  Nancy regularly posts money philosophy questions on her blog and one day I commented about how since I've been back from the Yukon I've been re-evaluating my life and how much "stuff" is required to live and find happiness.  I was truly honored to be asked to write the piece.  Here's the link.

Yukon backcountry is a money coach

The Post Summer Blahs

It's less than a week to go until the official end of summer and I'm already feeling the post summer blahs.  To be fair, I've only just got over my jet lag from my recent trip and I'm still processing my monthlong Yukon adventure.  But still.  I can feel the post summer blahs starting to take effect.  It's either that or the fact that I'm not used to sitting still anymore.  Considering it's been two and a half years since my life has been this "quiet".  Either scenario is likely.

The great thing about being an adult is that the post summer blahs start a little bit later than when we were kids.  For me, I could distinctly remember the summer blahs setting in a few days before school started.  Yes, there was the excitement of new school clothes and school supplies but once those were all ready to go and the sun was still shining but the nights were getting shorter and colder, you could feel that the end of summer was imminent.  And it felt.... blah. 

At least as an adult, we get to postpone the summer blahs a few weeks.  But still... it's an awkward feeling, isn't it?

Backpacking- Part 2

I made it thru week 1.  No small feat.  By this point we seem to have walked endless miles and have gone up (and back down) what feels like a million feet of elevation.  I haven't showered or used toilet paper in a week.  Oddly enough, none of this bothers me.  Partly because I know everyone else is in the same boat and partially because I'm too exhausted to care.

So far, I've learned a lot about myself.  One thing of which is that when I do something, I do it all the way.  Until this trip (I'm embarassed to say) I hadn't been backpack camping. To make matters worse, I believe I told an ex-boyfriend once that "if hell froze over" I wasn't going to backpacking.  Incidentally, I said the same thing when he mentioned wanting to go to India, as Murphy and his law have it, I've been there 5 times.  I'm pretty sure I must be insane to have never backpacked before and do a 2 week long trip as my first outing.  go big or go home.  That's me.

Because this trip is a course, specifically a leadership course, there are classes every day.  In addition, we gather around and talk about our goals and challenges.  Hands down my biggest goal (and challenge) is to just make it through the backpacking.  If I do this, it will be the biggest accomplishment I'll have achieved so far.  Thinking about the other challenges I've managed to conquer in the past few years, I think that no mountain or heavy pack will stand in my way.

Though the hikes are physically challenging, they don't kill me. I may be the slowest going uphill, but I manage to find comfort in my slow but very steady pace.  I manage to accept that this isn't a race and stop apologizing for being at the back of the pack. 

I start to find my groove, I might be the slowest hiker, but everyone in my tent group looks forward to my cooking shifts.  I become the backcountry baker extraordinaire! Pizza, pies, cinammon buns, you name it!

Eventually, it becomes my day to be leader of the day.  I'm going to have to lead a group of 4 other students that are a hell of a lot better than me at hiking!  Not intimidating at all.... right?

One of the many things my mentor/instructor instills in me is to keep being me, as a leader.  ie I don't need a lobotomy or act like Stalin to be an effective leader.  She claims that anyone can be taught to read a map but natural leadership, self awareness and the ability to build culture within a group (so she claims I bring...) are not things easily taught.  To say I'm insecure about this new role, is an understatement.  I hid my insecurities well and get our group there in one piece.  In the end, I delegated where I needed too and overall kept the group in good spirits.  wow! 

My newfound confidence slips by day 12.  Clearly, someone must want me dead.  Why else would you explain that I have to hike up 1700ft of elevation before the effect of my coffee sinks in? By the end of the day, there are 2 puffy cushions where my kneecaps used to be and I'm convinced I'll freeze to death since it starts to snow.  It's early August, I should be sitting on my deck sipping raspberry mojitos, not worrying about hypothermia.  What point was I trying to prove again???

The last day of the hiking portion, I find my groove again.  There's light at the end of the tunnel!!!! I'm not at the back of the pack anymore.  I'm now at the front.   Still with my slow and steady pace.  by the time I get to camp, I'm ecstatic.  I'm so proud I managed to finish this.  In the end, it was 109km of backpacking gaining 17,000ft of elevation with a 47lb pack.  Besides the obvious sense of accomplishment, I feel tough as nails!  Along the way, I've even picked up some self confidence and leadership skills.  All this and we're only halfway thru this adventure!

4 countries, 6 days

Ever since I stepped on my first plane at the age of 7, which, incidentally, had to make an emergency landing because a piece of satellite crashed into the windshield causing the plane to decompress, but I digress... I love flying.

Whenever I knew I was getting on a plane to go somewhere, I'd be so excited I couldn't sleep the night before. 

I also love my job.  I love it for a lot of reasons, one of which is that a couple of times a year, I get to travel for work.  Work has taken me to places I would have never imagined: India (5 times... a place I said I would never go to!), Israel, Hong Kong, China and Thailand.  Though I've done at least 2 business trips a year for the last 6 years, I still get excited to go away. 

As anyone that's ever traveled for work knows, it's hardly a party.  The days are long, busy and travel (especially thru random small indian airports) can be frustrating.  But that doesn't deter me.  I still get excited at the fact that work pays for me to go overseas and represent them. 

This trip is particularly short; all of 6 days.  But in those 6 days, my collegue and I will be hitting up 4 countries: Hong Kong, China, Vietnam and Taiwan.  That's a new record, even for me.  I'm excited to go to Vietnam and Taiwan despite they're only 2 nights and 1 night respectively.

I did however, get warned that crossing roads in Hanoi requires nerves of steel. That should be interesting....

NOLS Yukon- Part I- Week 1 of Backpacking

The morning after meeting our instructors, all 14 students headed to the NOLS warehouse.  This was the official first day of the course.  Before setting off, we had to pack our food rations and get our gear all setup.  Though I'd never backpacked before, I knew that weight was obviously an issue and I'd have to forgo some of life's luxuries.  Me and the word travelling light have never really been friends, but in the past few years, with so many trips under my belt, I thought I had a good handle on what "travelling light" meant.  Clearly, I was wrong.  Though we were going to be backpacking for 2 weeks, I was instructed to pack: rain pants, hiking pants, long johns, pants to wear around camp, a t-shirt, a warm fleece, wind shell, 2 pair of socks, 2 pair of underwear and a rain jacket.  That's it. The motto goes "Ounces equals pounds and pounds equals pain".  But I had so many questions like "What about deodorant".  Deodorant, I was told, had to be foresakened.  I had just accepted the fact that toilet paper wasn't going to be in my future for a month (a source of great anxiety) and now I had to accept the fact that I was going to be deodorant-less too????  I think not.  And so, I accepted the deodorant as my 2oz of "luxury" item and brought it along. 

Once we got seperated into our tent groups, we got all of our group food and gear and seperated it all out.  Final pack weight for the road? 47lbs.  Life on my back for the next two weeks equaled 47lbs.  This brings new meaning to the word minimalism.

We got to our trailhead late the first night.  The agenda for the morning was set: first class at 9am. 

Our first class was on how to go to the bathroom in the woods.  The most important factors were to be at least 200ft from camp and any sources of water (to avoid human waste contaminating water sources)  Our instructor taught a graphic course on all of the "natural" toilet paper options.  Rocks, moss, leaves and pinecones were all presented.  Never in a million years did I think that a pine cone would be a valid substitute for toilet paper.  I was wrong and I'll never look at pine cones the same again.  Additionally, in order to avoid bears, we'd have to be heading out to our bathroom spots in groups of at least 3.  I was nervous.  I was convinced that I was going to have performance anxiety and would not be going to the bathroom anytime soon.  This was all way too much.

After class ended, we got split up into our hiking groups and headed off.  First order of the day? Hike up 2000ft on an old mining cart trail, with my new 47lb elephant. 

Made it thru the hike.  My 2 tentmates are awesome.  We're all trying to settle into this new world of backpacking.  We quickly learn the importance of flat tent camp spots.  I wonder why they make everything for backpacking so... slippery.  Tent floor + thermarest + sleeping bags are all made of slippery fabrics.  This seems like a bad idea.  I feel like an oiled up caterpillar trying to squirm across a greased surface.  The logistics of this combined with an incline do not bode well.  Luckily, my tent mates are in the same situation and we go into hysterics about this.  So much so that we disturb the other tent groups.  Whoops.

I'm unclear as to why they call what we're doing "hiking".  Hiking to me means following some trail or having an end destination.  We have neither of those.  I'm told this is normal.  I suggest the official name for this be called "wandering" as this seems much more accurate. 

By day 3, I'm convinced that if the "wanders" don't kill me, surely the mosquitos will.  Still don't quite grasp the concept of going up a mountain only to come back down again and going to a lake that looks just like the last lake.  However, I'm here to keep an open mind.

I had visions of all of our food being dehydrated muck that I wouldn't be able to stand.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that we had a fair amount of normal things.  Staples like oats, flour, rice, spices, etc... We're given some recipes and suggestions on what to make.  I just might be in my element now and make homemade pizza over a single burner stove in the rain.  I'm starting to earn my hardcore points now.  However, because of said rain, my feet are cold and wet and are quickly approaching hypothermia.  The instructor notices this and helps solve my issue, by taking my cold, wet feet onto his chest to keep them warm.  Who knew?

It's the last day before the re-ration.  We have to be at a certain spot by a certain point to get our new food for the week.  In order to get there though, we have to hike about 12km.  On the map this doesn't look terrible.  No elevation gain, no problem.  What the map didn't show though was the bushes.  For 10 hours, we bushwhack.  And cross rivers.  About 8 times.  About 10 minutes before we get to our destination, I attempt to cross over a large fallen log.  I get stuck and my foot sinks about 10 inches into mud.  I want to die.  Right here, right now, on this log.  I have a quiet cry behind my sunglasses and pray no one sees me.  What was I thinking?  I may have made it 7 days with mosquitos, gnats, hiking up and down scree, crossing rivers all with my 47lb elephant.  I may have a tatoo on my body that says "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger" and I sure am putting it to the test right now...

Day 1 of my Yukon adventure!

I'm sitting in the gold rush saloon reflecting back on my first day and enjoying my last glass of wine for the next month.

25 years ago, my mom's boyfriend at the time, sent me to camp. His motives were to mainly be rid of me and my 13 year old attitude and angst. I had no idea what I was getting into or what it all involved. Imagine my surprise that among other things, it involved a 10 day canoe trip. Being the guy he was, he set me up with all my gear. I was the only person on that camp bus with their own paddle. A birds eye birch panel at that. I had never stepped foot in a canoe. Here I was with my own paddle!

When I got off the camp bus, the counsellors didn't know what to make of me. I showed up in a matching outfit, earrings, hair done with my own paddle.

The experience was one of the best in my life and it was the catalyst for me to enjoy a lifetime of outdoor pursuits. (and no, I haven't given up earrings!)

Today, was my Yukon trip orientation. Picking up clues from 25 years ago, I left the earrings and makeup at home. When I got here earlier this afternoon, I had an intense moment of "oh my god, I can't do this" thankfully, I breathed through it and it passed.

I met my 14 other classmates and 3 instructors. Oddly enough, one of the girls (19 if she's lucky) showed up with earrings. Well, if you can call a giant paperclip, zipper pull and bulldog clip earrings- they were in her ears)

I feel a smidge less intimidated. No one else seems to have done a trip as big as this before. As a matter if fact, most of the other students seemed shocked and so intimidated to even ask questions.

One of my first questions was the lack of toilet paper. It turns out we'll be practicing a modified bidet method: a squirt bottle. After the orientation, me and a girl a thousand times more brash than me went to the store for the perfect water bottle. Small, light, with a squeeze lid. After all, you don't want to use your regular water bottle for fear of cross contamination!

Tomorrow is gear check an rationing. Then we drive to our trail head and camp. The "real work begins Wednesday. We'll be backpacking through the Wheaton river valley until august 10th. Then we come back into town, switch for our canoe gear and paddle the highland river. I can finally say that after 3 months of getting myself worked up, I'm excited!!!

The Fashion Anti-Christ

In 4 short days, I'll be in the Yukon for a month.  For the past 3 months, I've been getting into shape, learning about myself, and experiencing every emotion from excitement to fear to anxiety.  As of tonight, all my gear is packed and ready to go.  The packing list that the school sent me is easily 12 pages long. I'm still not sure how one goes about wearing 3 pair of underwear, one pair of pants, 2 t-shrits and a pair of shorts for 30 days.  It's also hard to imagine wearing a puff jacket and long johns and sleeping in a -15C sleeping bag when all of the weather reports I find suggest that the temperature will only go as low as 7C. But the kicker, the biggest kicker of them all? crocs.. 

Since their introduction into this world, I've cringed at crocs.  Their oversized bulkiness, their primary colors, their overall FUGNESS.  I'm all about things with function and I "get" that crocs float, are lightweight and are great for boating/padding.  Fine.  Then that's where they shall be worn.  Is it acceptable for them to be worn as casualwear walking down the street?  Hell to the no. When I got a facebook invite to join the group "I don't care how comfortable you are, you look like a dumbass in those crocs" I eagerly signed up.

So imagine my panic and anxiety, when crocs were listed on my packing list "must bring" as a lightweight shoe option.  It was almost as bad as discovering that, for the next month, I won't be using toilet paper, but instead will be using "nature's toilet paper" (which happens to be smooth stones, sticks, spruce cones, leaves, moss and snow- incidentally I'm allergic to trees... but let's not go there)  I wasn't sure how I was going to tackle this bit of information (the crocs, the toilet paper, I'll deal with later-  I'm thinking that smuggling contraband toilet paper might just be necessary)

And then, like a beacon of hope, an email from one of my best girlfriends showed up in my inbox.  Until then, I suffered silently.  I let no one know my dilemma.  So when I got her email, I almost cried.  Native Shoes are made from the same lightweight floatable (incidentally, environmentally unfriendly pvc) material but have some style infused into them.  I was excited.  I could pull this off!  Look, floating, light shoes that won't make me look like a German tourist!  There was hope.

A few weeks ago, I set out on a mission to get myself a pair.  I thought of how I'd be the envy of the group.  Well, it turns out all of the main street hipsters threw a wrench into my vision.  There's not a pair to be found in the city. Or online.  Or thru bribery.  I went into the Main Street Shop (Anti-Social) and innocently enquired about my saviours.  The cantankerous owner of the shop (maybe that's why it's called Anti-Social?) barked at me without even looking up at me.  No hope of getting any until August.  At the earliest.  All hope was lost.

I tried to find SOME way of justifying wearing crocs.  What if I don't get red ones (red crocs seems to be the international symbol of "I'm a German tourist")  What if I disguise them? What if there's no photographic evidence, maybe it wouldn't have happened?  I just couldn't do it.  What's worse, is that my instructions are that said shoes must fit with a pair of socks.  Because I insisted on geting the cushiest, comfiest socks, my socks add about 2 shoe sizes to my feet.  Wow.  This was going to be a sexy look.

I went into the crocs store on Robson (trying not to pass out from the off-gasing of the pvc fumes) and tried not to panic.  It was hard.  The first rack I almost walked into was high heeled crocs.  I can't even justify that with a sarcastic comment, so I won't.  I settled on a cute(ish) pair of crocs that can pass as boat shoes.  If you squint and ignore the matte plastic sheen of the pvc and whiteout the "crocs" logo, they don't look so bad.  But with hiking socks?  Well, maybe if I don't mention to anyone on my trip that I went to fashion school, I won't get arrested by the fashion police...

Fear of the unknown

Two weeks tomorrow marks the official start of my  Yukon Grand Adventure .  In the past 3 months that I found out I was chosen for this course (from a work sponsored program) I've gone through a lot of emotions: excitement, nervousness, anxiety and fear.  I'm not even sure how I've managed to find time for these emotions since pretty much all I've been doing is training for this trip.  I know that this trip will be a one of a lifetime adventure for me, and even though I haven't even left yet, I've learned a lot about myself.

I realize that one of my greatest fears in life is a fear of the unknown.  My ex used to call me a control freak and after some soul searching while getting ready for this adventure,  I'm happy to learn, that's not accurate at all.  I don't need to be in control of a situation nor do I need things to go "my way".  I admit though, that I do like to be prepared and have an idea of what to expect when doing something.  Ironic, really, considering that a lot of the things I do are pretty spontaneous.   However, I`ve figured out that even in spontaneous situations, I have a pretty good idea of what to expect.

What I do know about this adventure, is that it`s 30 days long, involves backpacking, whitewater canoeing and carrying a backpack so heavy that anyone I`ve talked to that`s backpacked laughed at (an 85L pack with an average weight of 60lbs) and that, is pretty much all I know about what I`ll be doing for a month.  Needless to say, with my new admission of fear of the unknown, I`m scared shitless.

I have no doubt that all will end well and I`ll come back with some amazing stories (I`ve even started a pool at work where collegues can try to guess the cockamammy adventures I might find myself in) but until I get on that trail, my mind is going to run wild with possibilities.  Possibilities like:

• What will my fellow students be like? It seems like I might be by far the oldest student as the average age of the students is 18-25.
• Have I prepared enough? Or am I going to realize partway thru I'm ridiculously out of shape and can't handle it (so far, my practice hikes are with a 40lb pack)
• Am I completely off my rocker for even signing up for doing this.  All signs point to yes:  I've never even backpack camped, what made me think it'd be a good idea to do it for a month???
• Will I have the right equipment?  Everything they've suggested seems to assume it will be freezing in the Yukon.  All information I've found suggests the temperature should be between 5 and 20C.  However, they're insistent I bring a sleeping bag rated to -15C.  Considering I bake when I sleep and weight is of the utmost importance (a bag this warm is MASSIVE) I question this.
• Am I going to be able to stand not washing my hair for 30 days.  I know there will be lakes to swim in and surely they'll be freezing, but how often will we find them?
• Will I be able to survive without toilet paper for a month.  I can't believe this is even a possibility.  After I was accepted and read through the boatload of information (that still didn't tell me much) I read the part about the "no toilet paper" rule.  I almost died.  I never even considered this an option.  Of course, I knew to be ready for the woods etc... but no toilet paper?  Instead, we're to use "nature's toilet paper" which includes smooth stones, spruce cones, moss, leaves and snow.  First off, I'm allergic to trees so I'm pretty sure that cancels out that option.  I can't say I've ever looked at a rock and thought "now that is the PERFECT shape for ass wiping".  Honestly, the toilet practices are the single thing that gives me the most anxiety.  I'm really not sure how this is going to shake out (for lack of a better word)

I have no doubt that this will build character and I'll probably come out of it with a lot of blood, sweat and tears (and hopefully no meltdowns- I get emotional if I'm over tired)  Never in my life have I faced such a physically daunting task, nor have I ever faced something this big where I really don't have much clue what to expect.  Wish me luck.

World tour- 2010

Be careful what you wish for.  I've learned this over the years.  I've learned that that guy Murphy and his laws exist for a reason.  I love to travel.  I always have.  It doesn't matter that my first time on a plane at the age of 6, a piece of sattelite broke the cockpit window, the plane decompressed and had to make an emergency landing in London, England (the flight was from Llubjana to Montreal).  Ever since, I've had the travel bug.

I love that my job involves international travel.  Usually, twice a year, I get to go on a plane and work in some pretty random places: be it India, Israel or industrial towns in China.  Even though I've travelled a ton, I still get excited going to the airport.  However, after 2009, I was determined to "pace" my travel a little.  2009 was a busy travel year even for me!  Looking back, I spent most of 2009 either packing or unpacking, jet lagged or getting over jet lag. 

It started with a trip to Cozumel, Mexico in January, after that a business trip to China in April, another business trip to China and Thailand (with a week for pleasure added on) in June, China again in September, and finally Chile and Argentina in November.  Add to that the stress of through a divorce and being a bridesmaid in my brother's wedding to the mix and you have what was an insane year.

So this year, I was determined that 2010 be a lot "calmer".  And it was looking pretty good... until now!  So far this year, I've only had one trip to Asia in April.  Then I added this exciting (albeit unexpected) trip to the Yukon.  And another business trip which I expected.  As it turns out, I get back from the Yukon and 5 days later hope on a plane and head to Hong Kong, China and Taiwan.  I was already wondering how I was going to survive the shock of going from zero civilization to Hong Kong when my middle brother announced he's getting married.  This September.  In Scotland.  I understand their urgency (visas etc...) and since our family is tiny, I really want to (and will be) there for him.  As it turns out, I'll get back from Hong Kong and 48 hours later, hop back onto a plane to head to Scotland.  When did life become this hectic?  and exciting? and most of all, how did I become such a world traveller?!?!?! Despite a full passport, it continues to baffle (and amaze) me....

The conundrum of where your clothes are made

I’ll always be thankful for a number of things. No matter how bad some days get or how sorry I’ll feel for myself at times, I know that in the global scope of things, I really have nothing to complain about. I’m thankful that I’ll always have food to eat, running water and that as much as I’d love to earn more money, I’m galaxies away from making $0.22 per hour. Most of my perspective has come thru travelling and mostly from work travel. I work in the clothing business and visit factories overseas a couple of times a year.



If you’ve ever stepped foot in a clothing factory, it’s not a pleasant place to be. Between the constant noise and humming of the machinery, to the dust from all the textiles to the heat of the steaming equipment, it’s a good setting to develop a headache pretty quickly. Add to that a steamy 3rd world location off the beaten path and it becomes downright torturous. My visits typically consist of visiting with factory managers and merchandisers and involve very little time on the factory floor. But the times I do spend on the factory floor, I’ve felt close to fainting and am grateful for the cold glass of water and air conditioning at the end of my day. Unfortunately, the workers don’t get the same luxury.


For the most part, clothing manufacturing is done by women (exception being India where there are still a majority of male sewers) Sewing a garment is not something that typically requires a lot of skill. You may not know how to sew a pair of jeans or a t-shirt, but when it comes down to mass production work, you don’t really need to. Each part of the garment is broken down into single operations. A pair of jeans may easily pass thru the hands of 30 different workers. One to sew the back pocket, one to sew the zipper, one to sew the belt loops etc… Imagine the monotony of sitting at a sewing machine, day in, day out, sewing only a zipper or belt loops. Imagine doing that in the heat of the summer when humidity is 95% and the outside temperature is in the upper 30’s Celcius. And now, imagine your paycheque… Depending on the country, you can expect to make the equivalent of $0.50-$1.00 per hour. Some countries and areas are more and some, sadly less. For instance, in Bangladesh, as of 2008, you could expect to make $0.22 an hour as an apparel factory worker.


Sadly, most of us have become addicted to cheap, affordable, disposable goods. I get asked a lot why there aren’t more factories in Canada and why more things aren’t made in Canada. To say it’s a complex matter, is an understatement. Say for instance, those new cotton pants you bought. You look at the label, and it’s made in China. In order for that pant to be made in Canada, the fabric would have to be purchased. Sadly, Canada doesn’t have any cotton fields. Chances are, you’d have to buy that fabric from somewhere else. Likely from China, or if you were lucky and found that there are still places that make fabric in the US, from the US. In order to bring that fabric to Canada, the government is going to charge you duties. It doesn’t matter that there aren’t any textile mills left in Canada, but the government is still going to charge you 20% duty on that fabric. Now it comes time to cut and sew that fabric into pants. Assuming you’ve found a factory that is still around and has the machinery you need and still has staff. In BC, the minimum wage is $8 per hour. Would you sit at a machine all day to sew for $8 per hour? Yeah, neither would I. So, in order to actually get workers, Canadian manufacturers typically pay in the $12 per hour range (give or take and this is a very broad generalization) If you consider that labour is the typically the most expensive component of a garment, there is a 10 times premium to making that garment in Canada. If that pant cost $3 to make in China, it would mean it would cost about $30 to make in Canada. If you factor in retail markup, licensing etc…. that EASILY tacks on $60 to the retail price of a garment. If you’ve just paid $50 for those made in China pants, would you be willing to pay $110 for those same pants in Canada?


Essentially, the 3rd world has become a pool of cheap labour, and how can we support that, right? Well, if you think of it this way… the worker that’s sitting down at that machine in China, making $1 per hour sewing your pants? Well, if she weren’t doing that, she’d likely still be in her home village, working on her parents farm struggling for the entire family to get by. Their home would likely not have indoor heating or plumbing nor could they afford for any of the girls to go to school (priority still goes to men) This girl, and millions like her, leave their home villages around the age of 18 to go work “in the city” they travel thousands of miles away from home to get work in a factory so they can support their families back home (and build up a savings for themselves) Factories have set up dormitories and provide food for the workers. This isn’t just for the apparel business, but pretty much for anything made in China. The workers will work “in the city” typically until their mid 20’s. After which they return home, marry and have kids. Until that time, they are able to send home somewhere around half of their income to their families. To be fair, not a great life. However, if us “westerners” weren’t addicted to our cheap consumer goods, there would be no demand for the goods nor their labour.


Ironically, there since there has been such a demand for consumer goods in the last 10 years, it’s putting upward pressure on the cost of labour. Recently, there have been strikes and protests about the low wages in Southern China. So much so that companies who make cars and electronics have boosted pay by almost double. This will undoubtedly affect other areas of manufacturing and the cost of your jeans will go up. Is it a bad thing? In my opinion, no. Pay the workers a living wage allowing them to support themselves and their family, seems fair. However, because people have gotten used to paying $50 for their pants, are they now going to want to pay $60 or $70? I’m sure some retailers will think not and then manufacture their goods in a country where the cost of production is cheaper, like the $0.22 per hour Bangladeshi factories.


After all these years in the garment industry, I’m still torn on what’s “right” and what’s “wrong” It’s not as cut and dry as I once thought. Anyone would agree that sweatshops are bad, and in my experience, I’ve only come across one place that would be considered a sweatshop (thankfully a place that no one I’ve ever worked with has used!) Most large brands (Nike, Levi’s, Banana Republic etc…) have independent auditors to make sure that all of their vendors abide by certain codes of conduct. This is a checkpoint to make sure that workers basic human and safety rights are looked after (ie no child labour, no locked doors, no “excessive” overtimes etc…) and once that’s met, who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong? To me, obviously $1.00 per hour seems like slave labour, but if a worker earns that and is more than what they’d normally earn and can send money home, is that wrong?


One thing that is wrong to me is when brands, companies etc… go from country to country in search of cheaper and cheaper labor. So if you start noticing that more and more of your clothing is Made in Cambodia, or Vietnam or Bangladesh, you’ll know that the workers in China were successful in getting a raise…

Can't start a fire without a spark

I was never very good at dating.  I could never figure out all of the little nuances, games, flirtations that so many other girls have dialed.  My theory's always been that if I can't be great at something, why do it at all.  With that theory in mind, I just don't even bother with the dating games and just try to be myself. It's not a theory I would recommend per se, as I've dated a number of guys in the past year and I still continue to date.

The thing that amazes me most about dating is the fact that someone can go from 60 to 0 in the matter of a day.  Most of the time, I don't clue in to the moment (thing, act etc...) where something turned.  Until recently.  I don't think it could have been more obvious.

I had gone on a few dates with this guy.  He seemed nice enough, called me almost every day, text messaged me daily and seemed interested to my untrained eye.  Then I got a text message.

The text message said that it turned out we had a few friends in common.  To make a long story short, the friends were my ex brother and sister in law.  After I recovered from the shock (what were the chances?) I wasn't too worried, after all, there shouldn't be any reason this should be an issue.  I can't say I didn't leave the family amicably because when D walked out, I never heard from his family again.  After mulling it over, I wasn't too bothered.

I saw M the next night and we laughed about the commonality and I thought that was it.  Since it had been our 6th or so date, we almost kissed when we said goodnight.  I say almost, because just as we were about to kiss, he started laughing.  That hardly does wonders for a girl's ego, but there he was laughing in a very awkward way.  I left his place with an uncomfortable feeling.  Then the next day, I got an email saying that he didn't feel there was any spark or chemistry with me. Yep.  This is my dating life.  If nothing else, great fodder for stories!

12 weeks to get into the shape of my life

In exactly 84 days, I'll be in the Yukon starting my epic journey of backpacking and canoeing.  I've already received a zillion documents from what I can expect (60-70km of hiking with a 60lb pack on my back), to how I should be prepared (workouts 3-5 times per week) to an intense packing list of stuff to bring (a mosquito hat!) 

Now that this is very "real" and I have a deadline, I'm concentrating my efforts into getting into the shape of my life.  I like to think that I'm already in reasonably good shape, but in the last year, I've definately enjoyed good food and wine more than I have the intense workouts that I used to. 

Partially because I'm clumsy, and partially because I have the stiffest/tightest muscles known to man, I usually end up hurting myself if I do a gym workout or any kind of non-stretching focus classes.  As much as my body NEEDS yoga, it's not gonna satisfy my cardio or muscle building needs.  In my constant quest of finding the perfect workout that I won't hate, get bored of and can afford, I found the Dailey Method.  

The Dailey Method has been the perfect mix of stretching, strengthening and for lack of a better word, sheer torture.  It's a one hour class of core conditioning, strengthening and stretching.  If I had to sum it up, it's like a Pilates class on crack.  Yes, there's a lot of ab work, but I've never done a Pilates class that makes me sweat like the Dailey Method.  During class, my legs shake, I feel muscles in my butt that I never knew existed and at times, I'm convinced that death wouldn't be as painful as holding a stomach crunch position for more than a minute straight.  The next day, I feel like someone's punched me in the gut.  But the thing is (and I'm showing my masochist side here...) it feels good.  And as much as it hurts doing it, the next day I (mostly) feel great.  I'm convinced that the Dailey Method is going to be an important part in helping me get in shape for my Grand Adventure.  Well, at least until I'm ready to start practicing hikes with a 60lb pack on my back...