Real World Labelle

Blueberry Lake was a slice. Bomb chalet, fantastic company, ridiculous food and enough belly laughs to harm a small child. The weather was perfect for sitting inside. I had big dreams of going snow-shoeing (until I discovered that they're not those fun tennis rackets - more like half-skis), cross-country skiing (until it started raining) and tubing (until the weather turned brutal and windy). Instead, I was part of the quartet that drove down the mountain into the town of Labelle in search of tonic water, milk, frosted pink lipstick, toothbrushes, crazy glue, contact solution and joke fodder. We found all of that and more.

It was a weekend of firsts - played proper pool (proper = not using my hands), tried pomegranate vodka, and started a fire (in the fireplace). I'm a big girl now.

Fats Domino

found his thrill on Blueberry Hill and this weekend I'll find mine at Blueberry Lake. A select group of us are packing it up and taking the party to Blueberry Lake, spending the weekend at a luxury chalet. If you recall from my experience flying first class to London, I've stepped my lifestyle up and will only partake in A+ events. Yeah, right! The weekend will involve outdoor activities (like steaming our pores in the hot tub and building snow forts), eating like kings and queens and dressing up in 80's cast-offs. Hotness.