So, what good are stories about hurting myself if I don't post proof of the injuries afterwards? So, here are some gross pictures of my gross foot. I wasn't lying about the color - check out those toes!
So yeah. My friend Dan asked me if it was worth it. Totally. I recommend this approach to everyone next time you want to have a wicked time at a party.
I logged on to my site today and saw that it was blank - had it really been that long since I'd made an update? Guess so. I had two entries that were in draft mode, but dag yo I really hate proof-reading my own writing.
The last two weeks have been so packed with stuff that it's hard to seperate everything. The Victoria Electronic Music Festival is an annual event that happens in Centenniel Square on the first weekend of August. The first one took place about five years ago, and I was just coming out of my hardcore raver phase (awesome phase). That event was put on by different people than the remaining three that we've had since then, and was somewhat disorganized. Additionally there was no beer gardens (which, let's be honest, are kind of pie), and the event really felt like a rave during the daytime.
Don't get me wrong - raves have been a large part of my life, and I did a lot of growing up at them. That being said, they're kind of seedy, loads of people are on drugs, they feel anything but professional, and they're definitely something better left in the dark (imagine seeing someone at 6 in the morning after they've been tweaking on some random drug (90% likelihood that it's cat pee) and dancing all night long). That is some scary shit.
The event was taken over by Bruce and James (who I met this year) two years later, and they've been doing it every year since. My friend Davin has played a large role in VEMF as well, and it's been cool to see it grow into what it's become. This year was without a doubt the best time I've had yet. Things really felt like a festival rather than a daytime rave, the beer gardens were in full swing, loads of people were dancing, and the music was really great.
Anyone that knows me (or even reads this blog) knows how much I love dancing, and I stayed rooted firmly on the dance floor for the better part of both days. A ton of old school friends came out that I haven't seen in a long time, and it was just a really great event all around. The last two years, Davin and my other friend Justin have put on a production/DJ workshop as well, which has been really well received, and I think it's awesome to do things like that and help expose people to the details behind the music. This year I mentioned to Davin that I thought a dance workshop would be really cool, and how much I would like to be a part of that. Ideally I would like to bring someone like Jake (who's workshop I took a month ago when he was out here) out here, and then help out myself in any way possible.
So, that's the weekend before this one. I came away from it having such a good time, I was having trouble imagining having that much fun for a while afterwards.
Buuuuut, this weekend was the Jericho (pronounced Yeriko for extra cool points) Sun and Surf squash tournament - one of the few squash tournaments that goes on during the summer. I was sitting on the fence about whether or not I was going to go last year, but after the awesome times I've had on squash tournament road trips this past season, I knew I was going to be going to this one.
Our immediate crew was myself, Jeff, Dan, Thomas and Bevan. Jeff was driving (and in his pimp-ride BMW no less) and we made it on to the 1 PM ferry. We hung out with some of the juniors that were taking Stu's squash camp in Victoria (so I already knew most of them - Cliff, Rafik and Thomas the frenchie), which was all good, but involved maybe one too many stories about people shitting their pants. I usually like to keep the shitty pant stories down to a minimum and a low volume when I'm rolling in the crowded seating areas of ferry, but that's probably just because I'm a prude or something.
We made it into the hostel at around 3, and discovered that just because people in hostel's are constantly meeting new, young people from all over, they do not need to have any personality whatsoever. I got the Ross Geller bring it down a notch gesture given to me after expressing a little bit of enthusiasm that we would be getting bunks that were all near each other. I made a mental note to avoid being turned to stone by looking directly into the employee's gaze and finished checking in. We headed back to the club and started a pretty typical routine - three quarter court. Brief diversion: Man, what a nice club. Right on the ocean, beautiful patio, nice courts, reasonable food and drink prices, hot tub, swimming pool, couches, etc. etc.. I thought to myself how cool it would be to be a member at a club like this, but knew in the back of my head that that wouldn't make any difference if I didn't get to be surrounded by the same awesome people I see everytime I head up to Victoria Squash Club.
We hit the ball around for a bit (Thomas winning most of his rallies in spite of having a sprained ankle and having to hop everywhere to get the court. What a dick), then came off court and hung out to watch some WISPA matches. For those not in the know, WISPA is the women's equivalent of the men's PSA tour. Basically international players travel around the world, enter WISPA tournaments and get paid. Or something like that. The games were great, and after watching a few, I caught a ride with Bevan and Rafik over to the Arbutus club where I was playing. I lost my match, dissapointingly, to a guy from Tacoma named Barton. I wouldn't have been dissapointed if I felt he was a better player, but I think I could have beaten him if my head was in the right place. I took the first game off him pretty handily, but just couldn't put any kind of strategy to work for myself in the next two games. I started to get things to click in the fourth game part way through, moving the score up to 8-6 for me, but couldn't close the deal, and was just not able to make things work. Oh well, I don't have to ref right? After the match, Barton came over and complimented my playing and told me that I was a real gentleman on the court. That felt pretty good - I pride myself on being a good sport when I play, and it's nice to get complimented on that fact explicitly.
I hung around to watch the end of Rafik's match, which he ended up losing - I gather he'd been one of the favorites to win the A division, and he was pretty choked when he got off court. His mom, Shaney, gave us all a ride back to Jericho, and Bevan and I got ready to put on some beer goggles. The weather was amazing, and we hung out on the patio until around 1ish, chatting, slaking our thirsts with tasty malt-based beverages and meeting new people. By the end of the night, we wound up getting a ride home from some random girls driving around on a stagette mission. I'm not really sure what their plan was for the stagette (it seemed mostly to consist of driving around in a car with the bride-to-be wearing a blindfold), but hopefully the totally random encounter with us added something to their evening. Somehow we made it back to the hostel without any knife wounds (though I almost got turned to stone by another employee who must have had his personality surgically removed - what's with that place's hiring policy?), and I dragged my ass out of bed at 8:45 and tried to wipe away the gummy film that had grown across my eyes.
Jeff drove Dan and I to Jericho, and then headed to Arbutus for his match. I walked up to the draw sheet and found my name. Sweet, I'm playing at Vancouver Lawn and Tennis club, and Jeff is now gone. That makes me a boner, and one with 30 dollars less in his wallet after the cab ride there and back. Worst of all, I stepped on court to warm up and I think I managed to remain standing by sheer force of will alone. Decent! I lost the game in record time, but wasn't too upset about this one - I think I probably could have beaten this guy too, but really didn't deserve a victory after the night I'd had previously. So, basically I paid 30 dollars to go somewhere and lose a game of squash in ten minutes. At least I got to watch some lawn bowling.
So, just like that, I was out of the tournament. I wasn't the least bit troubled about that though, because while the squash was definitely a major motivation for going, the other half of out-of-town squash tournaments is the partying, and I know I'm an open player for that sport. I headed over to Arbutus again before dinner to watch Bevan's match (who, miraculously, had pulled off a victory at 8:45 that morning, and this was after the night before) with Blake, Erik (Eric?) and Nikki. Blake, Nikki and Erik went on court to play some squash while Bevan got ready for his match against my buddy Erik Fell, but I'd forgotten my squash gear and so I couldn't join them. Bevan brought out the suck in full force for his game against Fell, and really didn't put anything together. Let's see, who in our crew did that leave? Nikki, Blake, and Erik had all been knocked out before we even got into Vancouver, I was now out, and Bevan just got knocked out. That left Jeff (who I hadn't yet heard from how he did) and Dan. We headed back to Jericho just in time to catch the last two games of Dan's match, and hey, it must have been kismet, because he had turned up the suck to maximum as well. He played someone that liked to play very soft pace and lots of drops. Dan's a very versatile player, and would normally be able to deal with this by speeding up the pace and taking the guy out of his own game, but Dan couldn't stop himself from dropping every chance he got. Giving us even more fuel for our jeering from the bleachers, he only managed to put about four of his shots past the service line. Oh Dan.. Dan came off court right when we found out how Jeff did, and just like that, we were all out of the tournament.
I was kind of glad to hear that - it meant that we would all be on the same level later on that evening. We had a great meal and again hung out on the patio, this time with a smaller table, but a tighter knit crew of people. At one point I even managed to meet someone by tricking her into spilling a glass of beer into my lap and then using her apologetic vulnerability as an in to start conversation. Vanessa actually felt pretty bad about spilling the beer, but I could tell and figured it wasn't really that big of a deal. She turned out to be a pretty cool girl, and Dan, her and I ended up hanging out until the wee hours of the morning.
I woke up Sunday morning at 10:00 AM after four hours of sleep with a sprained ankle, and some mean looking cuts on my hands. What had happened? Bear attack? Knife fight? I settled on the most likely reason - I'd gone swimming in the ocean at some point and tried to hug a jellyfish. Stupid! I won't make that mistake again. And what's this? I've lost my keys too! Geez Adam. Oh well, makes for a good story right?
We spent Sunday hanging out and enjoying the company of friends and the weather (and of course, the hot tub), and around 5:00 PM got ready to go. We said our goodbyes to old and new friends, and hit the road to try and catch the 7:00 ferry. We ended up waiting around until around 9:30 until we made it onto a ferry. Apparently there'd been a suspicious briefcase left on the previous ferry, and they didn't want to take any chances. Oh well. I finally rolled into home at around 12:30, after we'd dropped off Thomas and Bevan at their homes. I think I managed to fall asleep around 2:00, ridiculously over-tired as I was.
The trip was a ridiculously good time. Like I said, the weather was awesome, and the club was really nice, but what really made this trip so great was the friends that I got to hang out with - I hope that we get this lucky again with the people next time we head to a tournament. Bevan's heading over to Vancouver in a few weeks time, because that's where he found work after graduating, which really sucks, but at least I know that we'll be able to meet up and have a blast at tournaments like this throughout the year.
Star players on this trip were: Dan, Jeff, Thomas, and Bevan - can't get a much better road trip crew than these guys, and Nikki, Vanessa, Blake, and Erik - I wish more of these guys played at our club, because I had a blast partying with them. Word up!
Holy man, that's a long entry, and my ankle is turning some weird shade of color that I would name cream of jaundice and gangrene. Okay, now I've gotten back from getting x-rays done and it looks like everything is all good. I'll see about posting a picture of my battle scars tomorrow when I'm up for it.
Oh yeah, last update - remember those keys I lost? I got back in after getting a whole new set of keys cut, emptied out my bag, and watched as my keys fell out onto the table. Nice play Adam. Nice play.
