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Alex McIntyre

Mr. Newman

ENG2D-10a

Wednesday September 21/ 2011

My Natural Playground

                        I wake up at 7:00 am, Friday morning in my luxurious king-sized bed at the Four Seasons resort in Whistler village. The sun pours through the large skylight as my eyes are drawn to the snow-covered mountains above. My petite two-year-old Yorkie, Kitty, leaps into my arms and I pet her silky smooth licorice-black fur. She jumps down and trots into my closet then reappears with her pink Prada collar and leash in her mouth. I drag myself out of my bed and wash my face with Clean and Clear morning burst cleanser. I dress in my Lululemon jogging leggings, Marmot windbreaker and Asics running shoes and head out into the cool winter air.

Kitty and I run through the village and over to creek side to pick up my Dynastic powder skis which have been waxed and sharpened at Skis and Bikes, "Snow Covers". I pay for the tuning, throw my sleek purple skis over my shoulder and slowly walk back to the hotel.

I hear three pounding knocks on the large cream-colored hardwood door and a quiet voice says,

"Room service!" A petite woman opens the door pushing a large rolling table filled with warm Belgium waffles, fresh fruit salad and three fluffy scrambled eggs, the breakfast of a champion. I indulge in my hearty yet delicious breakfast and get ready for the day.

 I dress in my four layers of pale blue and white Helly Hanson long johns and Smart Wool ski socks. I put on my pink Bogner ski suit and I grab my royal blue Dynastar powder skis. I drop Kitty at Dex's Primo Doggy daycare center in the lobby and say farewell for the day. I leave the hotel and head towards the Excalibur gondola where I will meet my helly ski guide, Guyem.

The air is cool and crisp but the fresh powder sparkles in the radiant sunlight. From a distance across the Town Square I spot Guyem in his vibrant red "Guide" jacket accompanied by my best friends, Sam and Victoria. They are patiently waiting with my grande extra hot skinny vanilla latte and are ready for a long day of powder skiing. Sam and Victoria are wearing matching light Blue DNA one-piece snowsuits and white Salomon boots.

Guyem reviews the safety procedures of the helicopter as we eagerly listen outside. I board the large yellow helicopter and before I know it we soar above the tree line into the Rocky Mountains. The view of the valley is breath taking.  I adjust my purple POC helmet and white Oakley goggles to perfection. I make sure my GoPro helmet camera is secured tightly to my helmet before we hit the slopes.

            We reach a peak known as "Cougar Shoot" that has a spectacular view of Whistler's "famous" trademark mountain, Black Tusk. We spot the perfect line covered with soft fresh powder. The pilot lowers us closer to the mountain peak and we cautiously drop down to the snow. Everything is so peaceful. I have not a care in the world. I take in the spectacular view one last time and click into my bindings. Before I know it I'm flying down the mountain, having never felt so free. The powder is knee deep and suddenly I rise airborne off a six-foot drop. My heart pounds and my arms rotate to help my balance. I land, thrilled by my smooth landing. I finally reach the bottom of the descent and I turn around to see Guyem cartwheeling down the mountain. His skis come shooting past me and I shriek. He finally reaches the bottom with snow covering his entire body including his nostrils. Luckily he makes it down intact and is prepared to go for another run. We laugh in the helicopter as we tease Guyem about his epic wipeout.

 Skiing with my best friends is like a dream come true.  The fluffy powder flies in our faces and we all have huge smiles on as we ski into the valley below. Our helicopter is waiting to take us back up another time so we can blaze some more fresh tracks.

We find the perfect spot for a delicious lunch as we rest our tired legs. We brought a picnic including black forest ham and cheddar cheese Panini's on fresh ciabatta buns. We open a bottle of Veuve champagne and celebrate the beauty of Whistler. We clean up the mess and board the helicopter, which will take us back down to the village.

Once we land, Sam, Victoria and I head to the well-known Scandinavian spa for a Shiatsu massage after our long, strenuous day on the mountain. It is very soothing and my body feels better than ever before. The spa is beautiful with many peaceful steam rooms, wood burning saunas and hot baths. We spend some time in our private Jacuzzi before we head back to the Four Seasons to prepare ourselves for an exciting night out in the village.

We examine the closet and try to decide what to wear. I decide on dark Sevens skinny jeans with mid height grey Egg boots and a flowing cream top. I straighten my long blonde hair and do my make up to perfection. I throw on my classic Burburry scarf and long Talula jacket.

A white Hummer limousine picks us up and we meet a few friends at the legendary Japanese restaurant, Teppan Village for Sam's birthday celebration.  My dinner is delicious, beginning with miso soup and teriyaki chicken and ending with a four-tiered rich chocolate cake topped off with twenty-four candles. We sing Happy Birthday to Sam and tell embarrassing stories of our childhood. Sam wears a "Birthday Princess" tiara and we head out to the Below Zero Club.

I walk into the club and the greeter hands me a large white Canada Goose jacket along with furry hot pink mittens. The atmosphere is amazing, the bar is completely made of ice and the temperature must be at least minus five degrees Celsius. We dance, drink and have a fantastic time. I meet many new enthusiastic skiers who I hope to ski with during the days ahead.

After my night out I head back to the hotel Starbucks for a cappuccino with a long lost friend, Bree, from my childhood cottage in Pointe au Baril. We talk about all the amazing times we used to have at the cottage and laugh about all of the silly activities we did for fun. I'm exhausted so we say our goodbyes and I head back to my room on the 37^th floor.

I have a fifteen-minute hot shower and dress in my silky beige Burburry pajamas. My white Blackberry Bold 9700 starts ringing, my mother is calling from Hong Kong where she and my father are currently on a three week trip. We talk for half an hour and by the end I can barely keep my eyes open. I crawl under the soft white Egyptian cotton bed sheets and doze off into slumber land. 

I wake up to the calming scent of the fresh sea breeze seeping through the large open windows beside my bed. My husband is silent with slumber, as it is exceptionally early for any other person to be awake. I quietly leave the room to let him rest a while longer. As I tiptoe down the hallway, I peek into my darling daughter Maddie's room. She is deep in sleep, lying with her vibrant stuffed animals. I step soundlessly down the staircase to make myself a mug of tea.

Every morning I walk down to the beach to sit and watch the sunrise. Our house is built on a plot of land with a private bay, off the coast of British Columbia. My husband built our dream home 2 years ago, which we have been planning together ever since we were young. Our love for each other is stronger than anything, and it has been like that since I was 14 years old. He is my best friend, and I can tell him anything.

            I take a sip of the steaming tea and I squish my toes into the sand. After a few minutes I feel the breath of another on my neck. My spouse sits down beside me, and wraps a blanket around our shoulders. It is summer here, but the cool morning wind from the Pacific will chill your body in seconds. We sit here together, watching the radiant sun take its place in the sky.  

            I decide to go back up to the house to check on Maddie, and put some breakfast on for us. She is awake and playing with her Barbie's and multiple stuffed critters. I love to look at her; she is the most beautiful child I have ever laid my eyes on. Her thick golden hair falls upon her plump rosy cheeks, as she reaches into her chest full of toys. Her big and beautiful hazel eyes light up, as she sees me leaning against her door. She runs towards me with open arms, and I pick her up into an embrace and swing her around in circles. We laugh together; her laugh makes my heart sing. My husband comes in and we all hug and howl with laughter together.

            I go back to the kitchen to start making the muffins. My partner tries to help, but we just end up throwing the ingredients at each other like children. Maddie hears the laughing and the screaming and she joins in. I call a truce when we are all covered from head to toe with flour, eggs and other ingredients. My husband picks Maddie and I up and carries us down to the water to wash off. When we are all dried off from the warm sun, we go back up to the house.  I make the muffins with the remaining ingredients, and clean up with my hubby.

            As soon as I put the muffins in the oven, I take Maddie to her room to get dressed. I open the doors to her closet, and she pulls open her dresser drawers. We have the same sense of style so it's easy to pick out an outfit together. We pick it out and she gets dressed, then afterwards she helps me with my outfit. It seems like just yesterday she was born. Time really does pass quickly when you take pleasure in

every moment of every day. I lift her up onto my shoulders and we go back out to the kitchen to check on our homemade chocolate chip banana muffins.

            We eat them out on the porch by the water. It is the most beautiful view, something that could be on a postcard. The wind blows the pine trees back and forth, and the ocean spreads as far as you can see. It is the perfect place to have a family and raise children.

            The three of us walk into town for lunch. We see our friends in their yards on the way, and we stop to chat for a few minutes. We have been living here since my husband and I finished university, and we have gotten to know many great people. Maddie decides to bring along one of her friends with us to town. There is a restaurant there that makes fresh homemade fries. It is our regular Saturday afternoon lunch spot.

After we finish eating, we stroll around town in the shops. So many tourists come to this part of B.C. because it is so peaceful. It is a small town, but not too far from the city. It is right next to the ocean, but also very close to the mountains.

            We head home, as it is time for Maddie's afternoon nap. This is the precious time that my husband and I get to spend with each other.  We tuck her into bed and go to the kitchen to get a tub of chocolate ice cream and 2 spoons. We take it back up to our room and lie on our bed eating the rich ice cream and talking to each other.

Hours pass and yet we don't run out of things to talk about. We could talk for days on end and never ever run out of things to say to each other.

            It is roughly 2 O'clock when we hear sounds in Maddie's room. We go to check on her and she is awake, and changing into her bathing suit, I change into mine as well and we head back down to the beach. We both share a passion for swimming.

            We spend hours swimming through each others legs, doing handstands, and having competitions to see how long we can hold our breath for. My husband comes into the water too, and he brings a ball and we play catch. We spend hours in the water.  If I could, I would live in the water. It makes me so happy and it just feels right. I coach the local swim team, and I have been for many years now. It is so exciting for me to get to know the kids and help them develop their skills. Maddie is eager to join the team when she is old enough, and I am excited for her.

            I leave my life partner, with Maddie on his lap, down by the water. I go back up to the house to make dinner for us. I decide to make my favorite dinner for the family; a juicy and tender fillet mignon, a twice-baked potato stuffed with bacon and cheese, a side of broccoli, and a fresh loaf of Italian bread.

            Once we finish eating, we clean up the dishes as a family, and sing songs together. My husband runs to get his guitar from our room, so he can play along

with us. We parade around our house belting songs, dancing like fools, and giggling uncontrollably. 

            After dinner we put Maddie to bed in her warm and cozy pajamas, I read her a bedtime story, and her daddy lies down beside her.  When I finish reading the book she is sleeping silently.  We quietly leave the room and shut the door behind us. My husband and I pick out a movie and take it to our room to watch.

            Once it is finished we get into bed and hold one another in our arms and lie there in silence. Some moments of silence connect us in a way that words will never be able to do.  Just gazing into his eyes makes my heart race, and my stomach fill with butterflies. I know, and I always have known, that this is the kind of love that will never die.

 By 9:00 I am eating a small breakfast as I have already made plans to go out, followed by tea at the Four Seasons at Park and Madison late afternoon. It is a Saturday, and even though Fashion Week
is still a couple of months away, I have the day off work. My daughter, Millie,
five, is perched on the window seat overlooking the Upper East Side, struggling
with her shoes. I ask if she is ready to go. She shakes her head stubbornly as
always, yet still manages to follow me to the door.

Six levels down from the top floor penthouse, the elevator opens to reveal the bottom lobby. I
greet good morning to familiar friends, while Millie hides behind my waist,
being the shy toddler she is. She does not fancy the company of unfamiliar
strangers, yet is more the type of person that opens up to the people she knows
well. Despite this, she is incredibly sweet and sure of herself. We make our
way over to the front doorway, and I fiddle with Millie's coat buttons on the
way. The winter air is brisk and icy as I step beyond the final sector of the
revolving door. I bundle my leopard-patterned scarf from Saks once more around
my neck and exhale. My breath freezes over, encircling my mouth.

My hair, freshly showered, begins to accumulate ice crystals that gently interlace amongst the
remaining damp layers. But today I do not fret over my hair, nor do I attempt
in the slightest to fix it. It is either the combination of pure laziness or
that it feels as if someone has taken a syringe and injected me with a bunch of
happiness while I was asleep. I feel optimistic, enthused, and to top it off-
have an abundance of holiday spirit!

  We arrive at the Manhattan School of Classical Ballet. It is an old building much the same as its original
architecture from the late 1920s. Its limestone walls are worn down and
weathered, yet still provide a warm and welcoming entrance. Millie still seems
reluctant to enter. I kiss her on the cheek and tell her to do the best she
can. It is an overrated saying, yet still manages to work, even in this
context.

Her thin blonde bun bounces as she scurries in with her winter coat atop her beginner leotard,
which ironically matches the flushed colour of her cold cheeks. There is a
small hole in her tights that runs as she runs. The material mimics her
movement step by step. I watch the last of her disappear behind the door and then
turn down Fifth Avenue toward Central Park.

I approach the main path leading down the park and walk alongside it for a few moments. Two
boys are playing the saxophone, and an artist is sketching the scene nearby. A
canopy of white from the morning's snowfall lays overhead. Everything is
glittering, sparkly and beautiful. Benches remain covered with frost from the
morning, and a man is sitting atop the icy layer. He looks up as I pass. He
mumbles something to me that I cannot quite catch. I pause for a moment,
utterly perplexed, until I realized he wished me a nice day. It is a very small
action, but it makes me smile a little inside.

After a half hour or so, I return to the ballet school, Millie is waiting inside and unhooks her
coat from the hanger when she sees me. I hold a small paper bag filled with
chocolate croissants from the bakery. We walk back home together, discussing
her Christmas recital next weekend, and what she hopes for 'Santa' to bring
her. My husband, now awake, is sitting at the small table by the window. He is
in his 'writers' trance', and is heavily absorbed in his material. He turns to
me, pulls back his auburn hair, and smiles. We talk for a while, and he shows
me what he has written. I tell him it is extraordinary, even though he begs to
differ, and says it needs more work. He has always been overly modest. I tell
him I will be going out again, and ask him to keep an eye on Millie. I leave
the bag of pastries in the kitchen for when he finishes and head out into the
city once again.

Leisurely, I stroll forward with no purpose, perhaps window shop, and take the time to look
at things I often miss within the daily chaos of the city. There is a lineup
outside the toy store, FAO Schwartz that bends around the block. The crowd at
Tiffany's is just as awful. Everyone is in utter and absolute rush at this time
of the season, desperately trying to finish off last minute Christmas shopping.
Nonetheless streets are covered in decorations, wreaths of ornaments, branches
of holly, and suspended crystal snowflakes. It smells of cinnamon and pretzels,
from a nearby street vender. The sound of merry lighthearted carols plays in
the distance. It is the epitome of perfect.

By the time I return home, it is past noon.  My
husband shares that he just received an e-mail from David Heyman, a British
film producer saying he aspires to create an adaptation of one of his books. I
run to hug him in excitement! We decide to celebrate by going skating at
Rockefeller, since the weather is agreeably a pleasant winter's day. As the
three of us sit on the edge of the rink to knot our skates, the sky begins to
flurry and gust with snow. For the next while, we skate, or at least try.

By late afternoon, my toes have grown raw and numb, and I regret not wearing thicker socks. We
dress up in nice clothes, and stop for tea at the Four Seasons. Millie is
wearing a velvet dress that puffs with grey tulle and sequins at the waist.
Joining us are a few family and friends that happened to be in town for the
day. We sit and talk, laughing, reminiscing to great extent our childhood past.
We watch the children's eyes light up as a waiter brings a two-tiered tray of
mini sized delights. Amongst the platter are peppermint mice, gingerbread
scones, angel meringues, and orange tarts with dollops of English crème, just
to name a few. I lean forward to grab the kettle and watch the tealeaves
collect in a strainer as I pour the liquid. It is made of pale china, and has
intricate carvings of primrose flowers around the top. Taking a sip, I feel the
warmth of the tea as it glides down my throat, almost disappearing every inch of the
frigid weather. 

After tea, we see a show. It turns out to be one of those incredibly cheesy Christmas musicals
that doesn't intend to be humorous, yet somehow is. On top of that, the vocals
are excruciatingly off key, and the costumes are over-the-top dramatic. Millie
starts crying, and I couldn't blame her. We leave the theatre early and walk
back instead of catching a taxi.

On route, we visit the grand tree at Rockefeller Plaza, where we skated earlier today, and admire
the lights. The isolated evergreen must be at least 75 ft, standing tall with a
scintillating gold star balanced atop the highest branch's peak.  I withdraw my vintage 18mm canon, and
take a few pictures of the scene, hoping some light leaks will be noticeable in
the later exposure. The city is awake and vibrant. I hear a faint
clickity-click sound that increasingly grows stronger. A horse drawn carriage
passes to our right. Millie gasps in awe at the two chestnut mares, with
jingling silver bells fastened onto their halters. I politely flag him down and
ask him to stop. Together, the three of us climb in and settle on the well-worn
red velvet pew.

It is late when we return. After I tuck Millie in, and say goodnight to my husband I make my way
to the great room. Guitars are lined up against the sidewall, and a fireplace
that is no longer burning is located opposite. A painting of Paris hangs above
the mantle, as well as various posed, awkward family photos. I sit by the piano
and slide my hands along the keys. Ever so slowly, I begin the soft beginning
of C. Debussy's Clair de Lune. My hands move with the melody, gently striking
each and every key. I sit there for an hour or so, just playing. I improvise,
play old repertoires, and try new songs solely by ear.

My husband is already asleep by the time I crawl into my bed. He awakes enough to
whisper,  "good night love" - but
with his accent it comes across comically as,  "guh nye luh." I kiss his forehead and smile back at him but
his eyelids are already closed. Similarly, I am utterly exhausted, yet would
opt to describe myself with one sole adjective: happy.  It is
not a flowery word or one with such flow, but it describes me now, and
hopefully forever. I fall asleep, in the city that never sleeps, letting my
dreams take me wherever they go. Wherever they take me, I know I am already
there.

I wake up with my sheets knotted around me like a snake. I crawl out of bed and 

slowly open the blinds. Its a beautiful sunny day over Paris. I don my robe and walk into the bathroom. I look around the bathroom, it's very simple, a shower, a white sink, there are blue tiles on the floor and walls. My Doberman Maxamillion comes to greet me with a lick and a sniff. The time is seven a.m. I sit down at my large oak breakfast table to a breakfast of croissants and jam that I have prepared for myself. I get on my jogging pants and a t shirt and then go for a light jog over to Notre Dame cathedral. I run slowly back home. 

I open the door on my large apartment. It's a massive contemporary place with many expensive paintings on the walls. Most of it is white walled with oak floors. I walk into my study, which smells of mahogany and leather bound books. I put Bach on the stereo and begin reading a book about a corporal in the Second World War who survives a plane crash. It is an enthralling book so I continue reading it until I decide to have some green tea at around nine o'clock. I then continue to my office to manage my shipping companies' ledgers and prepare a presentation for the board of directors who meet next month. I take Maxamillion out for a walk at nine thirty, he barks at various squirrels and other dogs. Maxamillion does his business, and I stoop and scoop as a good dog owner would. 

I go home again and put on a suit.  I put on black pants, a belt, a white shirt, a red tie and a black jacket. I go to the underground parking in my apartment building. I take out my keys and unlock my Mercedes. I drive slowly through Paris. Around the various round abouts. Surprisingly not getting stuck in any of them for any time. 

I decide to drive down a random alley way. I park and get out. I walk down the alley seeing some of the largest blocks of cheese I've ever seen. I walk slowly into a crepe shop and order a ham and cheese crepe and a Nutella crepe. I watch the employee put the dough on the hot plate in a thin layer and then he puts ham and cheese on it. I eat the crepe. The finest one yet. Just the right amount of ham

and cheese. I take one bite savoring the taste.

At ten o'clock I decide to meet my friend Jonathan at the Eiffel tower. We buy our tickets, and instead of taking the elevator we opt to take the stairs. The Eiffel tower is milling with enthusiastic tour groups, tourists and a few soldiers. All of them are amazed by a sight that I now consider quite common in my daily life. We take the arduous journey up to the first viewing deck. I overlook the general area and see the river, the parks with people picnicking. Jonathan says to me "hard to believe you live here isn't it?" and I say slowly "a little bit". Me and Jonathan discuss the various merits of living in France and Paris and make the decision that although very beautiful and rich with history, the tourists and the traffic are horrendous. Jonathan and I take the stairs to the third and final viewing deck. We overlook the whole of Paris. Most of the buildings are six stories tall and white with black railings. When the city of Paris burned to the ground in the sixteen hundreds Napoleon, the ruler at the time, decided to rebuild the whole of the city with six story tall, white buildings. I appreciate his choice because I am a fan of neat looking things that have a uniform pattern. Most cities have a mixed pattern, like a pair of patched hobo pants. However in Paris this is not the case. Paris is a wonderful paisley throughout the city. 

At eleven o' clock me and Jonathan decide to go back to my apartment and play a few rounds of pool. We arrive at the apartment and open the door. The dog bursts out of the study and greets Jonathan, Maxamillion always has loved Jonathan. 

We walk into the pool room and rack up the balls. I invite Jonathan to break and he sinks the orange three ball. We play pool for about an hour and a half, bringing the time to twelve thirty. Jonathan beat me every time. Then Jonathan and I indulged in some forty year old brandy. It was disgusting, but it made me feel rich which is what I like. So I drank it. By the time Jonathan left it was around five o'clock. 

I made myself a turkey dinner, Complete with roasted carrots, parsnips, turnips, turkey and mashed potatoes. I feed Maxamillion the same dinner I had. Then curled up with a good book and a cigar, I ponder what my life is like for a moment.

I live alone. Except for my dog Max, no girlfriend and no children. However I do enjoy the way I live life. I live it at my leisure, and how I want to. After finishing a degree in international commerce I decided to open my own shipping company. After finding several investors that were mostly family, I hired many people to manage my company for me. This has payed off massively considering I work maybe one or two hours a day. Thats not too long and the work isn't very difficult. I have no people to care for but myself. I live by my own rules, I make my own hours and can sleep until whenever I want. This has been one of the best days yet, possibly my ideal day.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly, but gently, over my body. It is entering through my large sliding glass doors and fills my room in a matter of seconds. I am not in any rush because my work can be done at my house and I only need to do it during certain weeks; I am the current head designer for the clothing company Supreme. Once I get up I turn on my large flat screen 3D TV and watch the morning news.

Once I am feeling a little motivated I get myself a cup of coffee and go onto my balcony. I live in a contemporary glass house that is built on a cliff so my balcony hangs over the edge and I have a stunning view of the Turks and Caicos Islands and the perfect turquoise Atlantic Ocean. When my coffee is done I head to my kitchen and make waffles with whipped cream, icing sugar, and a side of bacon.

Once I am full and energized I call up my brother Haydn to ask if he can drive my boat while I wakeboard. He agrees and when he comes over he takes the chair lift down the cliff, and I longboard, to a beach and body of water that I discovered about a year ago. It is hidden inside the cliff and no one but me and my family know about it. When we get to the spot I head into the water.

Wakeboarding is one of my favorite things to do and I have been doing it for 15 years now. I started in the summer of 2011. Wakeboarding is just like waterskiing but you are on a board instead. Some tricks include front flips, back flips, 360's etc.

I stay on the water for about two hours. I do three full airborne 360's, a back flip, and get a lot of air. When I start to get tired we head back up to my house. My brother stays for a while and we hang out. We play football, video games, long board/skateboard and just talk. At about 12:30 my brother leaves and I get a call from a hip/hop collective called OFWGKTA, lead by Tyler the Creator. They want to have lunch with me and discuss various matters. I agree, and suggest a place to eat. The place I suggest just opened a few days ago and has delicious and extremely fresh food. It offers everything conch, as well as burgers, sandwiches and other staples.

We are supposed to meet at 1:00PM so I decide to go get ready. I take a steam shower which looks over the water and then get dressed. Because I am the head designer at Supreme and fashion is close to me, I have a very large wardrobe. I have all the new Supreme clothes as well as clothes from many companies that have partnered with Supreme.

For lunch, my outfit is this, Ti$a Get $ sneakers, khaki supreme shorts, Supreme x Bape box logo t-shirt, red short sleeve Supreme button up, Ti$a denim jacket, three Good Wood bracelets, ceramic, silver and carbon fiber Hublot big bang watch, and a Supreme x Bape camp cap.

When I am dressed and ready I get in my gun metal 1967 Shelby Ford Mustang Gt500. This car is my prized possession. I have spent a lot of time and money tuning and upgrading this car with after-market parts. It has automatic, soft leather seats, a Bang & Olufsen stereo system, touch screen radio/navigation system (with a built in 3D TV), two cans of nitrous oxide, a suspension upgrade, power steering, and a lot more under the hood. The car has 500 horsepower and tops out at 200 Mph.

I drive to the restaurant and OFWGKTA is there and they are waiting for me. I rush over to the table and order cracked conch and a rum punch. During lunch we talk about their music and future projects they are working on, also we talk about the group partnering with Supreme and releasing a limited edition series of a concert type shirt, a Wolf Haley t shirt, a Wolf Haley hoodie and a OF hoodie, as well as a camp cap. These items would only go for sale in the Los Angeles Supreme store and the Supreme and OFWGKTA websites. Once we have eaten and the bill has been paid I say my goodbyes and head home.

When I get home I decide to go skimboarding on my pond built specifically to do so. Skimboarding is a sport where you have a board shaped like a mini surfboard, but it is very thin. In order to skimboard effectively you need a very shallow area, 2-3 inches of water is perfect. You slide the board along the water then hop on it and slide with it until it slows down and stops. I dug my pond with a special tractor, and then placed a waterproof rubber material down and filled the pond with water. It is 100 x 15 feet, and has a rail and two ramps. After I have boarded for a while, just before I am about to go in I land the trick I have been trying for a while, a boardslide onto the rail and a 360 pop shove it off.

By the time I am done I am completely exhausted, so I go to my room to relax. I turn on my TV and watch a UFC fight night. The main event is Georges St. Pierre V.S. Anderson Silva. The fights last for an hour. The main event is called a tie and a rematch will be scheduled.

After the fight, I call my family over for dinner. My family is on the island, so they come over and make a delicious meal called cheeseburger soup, which is made with ground beef, cheese, French fries, and whatever else you put on a burger.

For dinner I wear, Sebago docksides, Supreme khaki dress pants, a white Supreme oxford shirt, a Bape tie, and a gold Hublot geneve big bang. Dinner is delicious and filling.

After dinner I talk with my family for a few hours and they eventually go home at 10:00PM. When they go home, I go to my bed and watch Kill Bill 4, the newest film by my favorite writer/director, Quentin Tarantino. As soon as the movie ends I become utterly exhausted and fall into an immediately deep sleep. 

The Concrete Jungle

I wake up at 6:00 a.m., but the city never sleeps. I smoothly roll out of my Egyptian cotton sheets and slip off my black silk pajamas, trying to make as little noise as possible so I do not disturb my boyfriend. I placidly walk over to my overstuffed black loveseat, where my Lululemon running tights and their new active wear top awaits me. I slide on my Asics running shoes, pull my hair into a high ponytail, grab my iPod, and make my way to the door of my loft. I soundlessly shut the door behind me, so that I do not awaken my boyfriend from his sound sleep. Once I arrive on the first floor of my building, with the assistance of the elevator operator dressed in his usual clean, crisp, red uniform, I step outside and smell the disgusting, yet addicting, smell of New York City. I push my headphones into my ears, and press play on my iPod. "E.T. Dubstep Remix" commences with a thunderous pulse. I take my first step and quickly begin to feel the groove. My feet connect with the music and gracefully move to the same rhythm.

At 7:30 a.m., I am back at the base of my building, breathing hard but feeling rejuvenated. I open the door, step inside my loft, and see my appealing and adorable boyfriend making my egg-white omelet. I kick off my shoes and walk toward my bathroom. My feet feel the transition from the hardwood floors of my kitchen to the soft carpet of my bedroom, to the marble heated floor of my bathroom. I turn the handle of the shower and patiently wait until the water warms up. I cautiously step in and feel the warm water caressing my skin. When I am clean and refreshed, I step out of the shower, wrap my white fluffy housecoat around my body, and stand inside my massive closet.

            Choosing what to wear is probably the most difficult decision of my day. People don't understand. I have a lot of clothes! All of which are utterly adorable! After thoroughly examining all of my outfits, I choose the perfect one for today - black pencil skirt, with a peach-coloured chiffon ruffle top, black patent pumps, and my black Chanel bag with the gold logo and the leather straps. I dress my ears with nothing but my Tiffany pearls, my left wrist is wearing a gold, diamond encrusted Rolex watch, and my gold Links bracelet that my boyfriend bought me, on my right.

            I saunter back into the bathroom, and take out my MAC cosmetics. Once I have applied my makeup, ensuring that both eyes are uniform and not looking excessive, I take on the challenge of grooming my hair. This can be a hair-raising experience, as it is extremely thick and unmanageable. I leave it natural today, long and wavy.

            I stroll into the kitchen to find my steamy spinach and feta cheese omelet lying on a plate, accompanied with a side of fruit and a glass of orange juice. I sit at the granite countertop by the window that overlooks 5^th Avenue, and consume my breakfast, as the sun rises and begins to deflect off the extensively tall glass buildings. I am soon ready for work.

            As I am walking to work, I pass by Saks, Louis Vuitton, Prada, and Ralph Lauren. I see Starbucks on the corner of 34^th Street, and I hurry and get in line. I'm finally at the counter and quickly tell the handsome new barista my order. He is new because his nametag says "Joe - In Training." Well, Joe takes a good ten minutes to make my latte, and he forgets to make it extra hot, but I give him a tip because he is just learning. My gold Rolex watch reads 8:57a.m. I only have three minutes to get to work! It takes me a second to remember that I do not actually have a set time to be at work. I just accepted the position as the editor for Vogue magazine, so I can be at work anytime I want. However, I scurry across the street because I know I have a lot of stuff to do. I walk a couple of blocks, and within 15 minutes I am standing in front of a tall silver building. I walk through the glass doors, past the security desk, across the lobby, into the elevator, and up to the 10^th floor. I greet my secretary, Francois, and continue down the hall to my office.

            My office is huge. Natural light shines on my Apple computer, which sits upright on my gleaming white lacquer desk. My wingback desk chair and the high-backed guest chairs are dark in colour and made of crocodile leather. A fireplace is strategically placed along the left wall, with a large 60-inch television mounted above it. Pure white leather upholsters a wing chair and a straight-lined sofa. Cream coloured lamps surround the furniture. It is my home away from home. As I approach my office door I see my clients lined up and waiting for me; my phone is ringing off the hook. I love it! The hustle and bustle of busyness makes me thrive. After dealing with my initial clients and phone calls, I continue with the rest of my day which consists of looking at new trends, approving articles, and of course, having my chicken breast - grilled, with roasted tomatoes and basil mayo on a baguette, from Markt.

            It is now 5:00 p.m. and I am meeting my girlfriends for a drink at "The Boom Boom Room", yes that is where you heard about Madonna last week. At 7:00 p.m., I hail a cab and return to my loft. I step into the foyer and look around; I love how I have decorated the place. The floor throughout is white marble and the walls are off-white. The kitchen is small but includes stainless steel appliances and off-white satin sheened cabinets. High ceilings, polished floors, large immense windows, and black leather furniture create a modern yet sophisticated style. I give my boyfriend a kiss as he tells me he is taking me out for dinner to 230 FIFTH - the number one most romantic restaurant in New York City!

I am wearing my new black, one-shoulder dress with rhinestone studs that I bought last week from Barney's New York, with my black Christian Loubiton shoes accented with a red bow on each heel. At dinner, I order Chilean sea bass while my boyfriend orders a Porterhouse steak; the most expensive steak on the menu. White wine for me and red for him compliments our food quite nicely. We finish by sharing lemon sorbet.

            It is now 11:00 p.m. and getting late, yet we decide to take our black lab, Rover, for a walk through Central Park, the public park in the center of Manhattan. The trees stand tall and proud, like they know they are beautiful. We walk along the path beside the river. The water is still, not even a ripple disturbs its peace. We pass the Delacorte amphitheatre and several children's playgrounds. I feel at ease as the cool, yet warm air of the late August night, surrounds me.

            We make our way home... slowly but surely, and change into our pajamas. I delicately lift up the sheets and slide my body under them. The second my head hits the pillow I'm off.

I wake up before I can see the sun, still hidden behind the peaks of Verbier, Switzerland, about two hours from Geneva. It's a small village at the end of winding road that climbs up the mountain from the valley, one of the most beautiful places on earth, skier's paradise. My roommates and I eat cereal and orange juice and discuss excitedly how we think the day will go.

We head up the gondola at 8:00am. Once we reach the peak, all that's left do is seek out the powder, and shred till the last ride up. After a few hours we decide to take a lunch break. We ski down to one of the lodges on the mountain and all decide we're going to have pizzas. We laugh and joke for an hour or so and once we've digested decide to get back out. We suit up and get the gondola to a peak we haven't yet explored. Once off, we hike on a footpath for about an hour. A light snow begins to excite us as we imagine the lines we'd be carving and the cliffs we'd be launching off in minutes.

As we climb and climb we frequently look back to take in the view and breathe the fresh mountain air. The path starts to widen, and finally we reach the end and are in awe. In the distance we can just see the jagged peaks of the Matterhorn. We are all excited and take a short break to catch our breath and gaze out into the beautiful mountains. We talk about which lines we want to take as we begin to gear up again.  I drop in and my smile could not be broken. My roommates whoop and holler as I shred down the mountain face flipping and spinning off cornices and drops. I reach the bottom out of breath and glowing with adrenaline. I turn around to watch my friends tear down one by one, content that they are having as much fun as I am.

            Once we are all collected at the bottom, we observe our tracks and commend each other on how sick our lines were. We decide to stop in a nice open area of fresh powder to build a kicker that we would be able to double flip and boost off. We begin by removing our heavy jackets and gear so we can get out our compact shovels and begin to shape what will be our jump. It takes a lot of hard work and effort in the deep snow, but every one of us knows it will be more than worth it.

As we dig and shape our now massive booter, I think to myself about how lucky I am to be living here, and how amazing the three years living here have been. Surprisingly I get deep into thought, which is rare since I moved here, as I live so spontaneously. I never get a chance to reflect on how many good times I've had in Verbier. After an hour of building and digging, we have around five meters of take off, and 200 meters of landing run out. All that's left to do is hit it.

We leave our packs behind as we begin to hike up to the top of the run in, as the session is about to unfold. One of my roommates volunteers to go first, and as he blazes a trail down to the jump, we sit in silence waiting for him to spring up into the air. We see him pop up as he's about to take off and then he flies through the air, flipping off axis twice and reverting flawlessly just in time to land smoothly back in the powder. By now we are all so eager that our exhaustion is no longer a factor. We all take our turns, over and over until we decide to move on, and as we ski out of our massive snow field we all share the adrenaline from how epic the session was.

We ski and explore for a couple more hours. Once we can barely stay standing, we start to descend to the base of the mountain. Once we reach the bottom we make our way back to our house to take showers before we go out for dinner.

We relax and listen to music and sit in the hot tub talking about our day and joking. Then around 8:00 we leave the house to go to our favourite restaurant on the main strip of the village. We walk for about 10 minutes to the restaurant, and by the time we get to our table we can't wait to eat. We meet some friends at the restaurant and after our meals we sit for a while to talk and share stories, my roommates' and mine mostly about the legendary jump we had built hours before. Over an hour later, we go to a bar that we are regulars at.

We meet new people who are on vacation and some who recently moved here as well. We talk and socialize the night away and have a lot of fun. At around midnight we're ready to head home and have our daily rounds of euchre with our new friends. We decide to each pitch in five dollars a game to create a pretty decent pot, and I myself feel lucky tonight and can't take my eyes off the cash in the centre of the table.

Once the game is over, and I've lost more money than I won as usual, everyone is beat and we sit and talk for a little while longer. We decide to take our new friends on a tour of the mountains tomorrow, and they seem to quite enjoy the idea, so we say good night. The boys and I talk about the girls we had met and we all joked about who was getting who as we got ready for bed and wound down to lie in bed and look back on another outstanding day in Verbier.

I awoke at 8:47am on Tuesday in my small house on Lake Volga in Russia about 30km away from Moscow. I got out of bed and looked out my window and saw that I had been completely snowed in. I walked to the bathroom to take a nice warm shower. I stepped out and dried myself. After, when I was dry, I wrapped the towel around my waist and brushed my teeth.

I was feeling a little bit chilly, so I went into my room to put on my track pants and sweater to keep warm. I started to get hungry so I walked into the kitchen to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast. As the aroma leaked into my bedroom, my Husky named Viktor awoke and strolled into the kitchen to find me. While I was waiting for the breakfast to finish cooking, I gave Viktor his food and water. As we were enjoying our delicious meals, I remembered I had a snowmobile race at 12:00pm this afternoon in Moscow. I quickly finished my breakfast and ran to the closet. I put my jacket, snow pants, gloves, and hat on to go clear the snow so I could leave.

I ran to my garage to start up the snow blower. I opened the garage door to find three feet of snow piled up on my driveway and I felt the cold air in my lungs as I took a deep breath. After an hour and a half of shoveling snow I had cleared enough to get out of the garage. I parked the snow blower and went inside the house to grab the keys to my snowmobile. I started the engine then went back inside to let it warm up. When I got inside, I saw Viktor waiting in the doorway with his favourite orange toy in his mouth. I took the toy from him and we went outside to throw it around. I threw the orange frisbee as far as I could, and Viktor ran and got it, and when he came back he was covered in snow from head to tail. I brushed him off and threw the toy again and again. After five or ten minutes of playing, I could see that Viktor was getting cold so I picked him up and brought him inside. I toweled him dry then patted him on the back and left for my race. As I was leaving the house I turned around and saw him watching and waiting to see me leave the driveway on the machine with his paws up on the windowsill looking at me.

I put on my helmet, gloves, boots and goggles then jumped on the snowmobile, drove it out and shut the garage door. It was now 11:10 am. I had to drive fast to the course to try to get at least 15 minutes of practice in before the race. I was driving along the trail, when I saw a giant snow mound that I thought could potentially be a jump, so I turned off the trail and drove up and down the takeoff to pack down the snow. After a few minutes of packing down the snow, I drove around and lined up to give it a go. I nailed it and flew off the jump then decided to do a back flip in the air. After landing the jump, I got back on the trail and continued on towards the racecourse.

I arrived at the course at 11:43am and signed in to enter the race. Then at 11:47am, I was on the course practicing. It was now 11:58am and the officials were beginning to call everybody off the track to get lined up to start the race. When I was waiting at the start line I looked to my left and saw an old friend named Jake, but before he noticed me he put on his helmet and got on his snowmobile. I didn't race too well today and only finished 5^th. After the race, I met up with Jake and started talking to him and invited him back to my place to catch up, but he couldn't come. So I decided to stop at the bar on the way home to have a drink or two with my friends Sergei and Reznov. I got to "Miroslav's Bar" and stepped inside to see that my two friends were already there waiting for me. They greeted me with a loud yell and a hug and escorted me to the table. When I sat down, two shots of Vodka were waiting for me, I drank them both. Then Reznov asked me about my race, I told him what I placed. After 30 minutes of talking with my pals, I got up, said my goodbyes and went home to play with Viktor.

 When I got home, I pulled into the garage and took off my gear and went inside. Viktor was faithfully waiting for me, so I took him outside so he could pee. I went back inside to watch a movie, turned on the TV and found that Pineapple Express was playing, so I went to the cabinet in the kitchen, and grabbed a bag of Doritos', then turned around and sat down on the couch and watched the movie. When the movie finished I decided to go take a nap, so I walked to my room and hopped into bed. Viktor jumped up and fell asleep on the end the bed with me.

At 4:00pm, I woke up and thought I would go cross-country skiing. I put on a light jacket and snow pants and grabbed my boots and skis and stepped out the front door to look at the sun low in the sky. I went out for a  two hour trek and then returned home.

 I was really hungry, looking in the freezer I found a rack of ribs. I brought them inside and filled a pan with water and put it on the stove to boil. When the water was boiling, I put the ribs in and then went outside to start the barbeque. Back inside, I grabbed the ribs and took them outside to put them on the grill. I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV to watch some Top Gear while the ribs were cooking. I flipped the ribs once and brushed them with BBQ sauce. Once they were perfectly grilled, I put them on a plate and took them to the table to eat. After dinner, I washed the dishes then went outside to play with Viktor. I came back inside after 10 or 15 minutes and hopped in the shower to warm up. When I was done I jumped into bed to listen to music. I put on my headphones, selected "In The Air Tonight" by "Phil Collins", closed my eyes and fell asleep.

July 2^nd, 2024:  I am surrounded by thousands of different animals of all shapes and sizes; a feeling of warmth and comfort comes over me.  All of a sudden I feel a wet, slimy tongue licking my hand; I begin to feel frightened and panic stricken.  I hear a growling ruckus and the familiar annoyance of dogs barking and whining.  It is then that I realize that my miniature schnauzer Sofie is trying to wake me up the only way she knows how.  As I open my eyes I see the spectacular views of Lake Simcoe outside my bedroom window.  My lake house is my home, where my heart truly is. It is a four bedroom, three bath, state of the art semi-mansion.  The kitchen is fully equipped with granite counter tops and iron chef appliances (despite the fact that I don't cook, my boyfriend does!). 

  I stare at my collection of clothes, overflowing from my closet, along with sets of old family photos and pictures from important events.  I step out of bed and feel the cool, stone floor on my feet.  I walk over to my closet and pull out a new outfit for the day, while Sofie rubs up against my leg. 

I walk downstairs and peer out the window.  The sun is shining, the water is calm and the light breeze is perfect, perfect for windsurfing.  The time is now 10AM and I see that my boyfriend has left me a smoked salmon bagel and a pot of brewed coffee (which I quickly inhale!). 

After I have finished my breakfast, I put on my bikini and grab a lifejacket.  I eagerly jump into the water, my three dogs right behind me.  It takes me a couple of minutes to properly position the windsurfer and get started, but eventually I manage to get going.  When I windsurf my mind is empty, the wind is in my hair and the focus takes over.  I sail around the bay for what feels like hours!  I look back at my lake house and see my dogs basking in the sun on the dock.  It is now 12:00, and I decide it is time to go in. 

I get changed backed into my clothes (designed by Alejandra Garcia of course!) and I walk out to my 2023 Porsche Hover car, the second of its kind.  My three dogs and I begin to drive 7 minutes to my vet clinic as we float above the freshly tarred road below.  We pass by thousands of homes, all looking the same, as well as partially developed farmland.  I wind down my window and my nose begins to tingle, as I smell the thick dirty air. 

I arrive to the humble noise of happy dogs barking and playing.  I see my cousin, walking towards the door to warmly greet us.  We go inside and I change into my lab coat.  My first patient is a newborn puppy from the humane society in for his first check up.  He is a happy-go-lucky, cute as a button Weimaraner named Phineas.  He is a perfect, healthy pup, just in need of a good home.  I decide he would be a great addition to our family and within 10 minutes I have another new companion. 

My cousin PB and I go out for a late lunch to a local restaurant.  I have a delectable tuna tartar and seafood pasta.  My cousin and I are talking over the next step we would like to take with our business.  I remember about a month ago when we were given an unimaginable gift of winning the lottery.  This win of 25 million enabled us to fine tune our vet clinic in order to make it the best and most well known in the country.  PB is the best co-owners and cousin I could ever ask for we work great together.  I begin to flashback to when we were 12 years old and used to imagine opening our clinic together, and working with the animals we love; this is a reality now.  My cousin takes care of the check and we depart, returning to the clinic. 

It is now about 4:00 and I arrive home after a wonderful workday.  I am having my family over for dinner and a bonfire tonight.  My boyfriend arrives home not long after me.  We look at one another and both of our eyes light up.  My boyfriend begins preparing for dinner as we will be having a turkey roast and potatoes.  While the dinner is cooking my boyfriend, I and our three dogs and one puppy hop in the boat and go for a romantic ride.

We cruise along various bays, until we begin to slow down to watch the sunset.  I see my boyfriend reach into his pocket and pull out a small, delicate blue box. My stomach begins to clench up, as I begin to realize what is about to happen.  I come to terms with myself and I hear those desired but feared words, "Will you marry me?"

  I jokingly respond with an "I'll have to think about it."  Then I quickly respond with a heartfelt "Yes!" as my new husband and I plummet from the boat into the cool water below. 

Once the sun has set we arrive back at the lake house.  Shortly after that my family begins to arrive, each of them noticing my new and never before seen engagement ring.  It is a five-carat, Tiffany & Co. diamond ring that I have always dreamed of.  After about 15 kisses on the cheek, 15 hugs, 15 "OMG, Congrats! And over 200 text messages, my family and I finally sit down to dinner.  The turkey roast is moist, flavorful and irresistible as it dances on my tongue.  The potatoes are fresh, right out of the garden and are also delectable!  After devouring a 7-pound turkey and 15 potatoes, my family and I move the celebration outside in front of a bonfire. 

I look up to the sky and see thousands of stars, twinkling and shimmering, alongside a full harvest moon.  The bonfire smells of smoke, and rich cedar wood as the flames dance beneath the moonlight.  My family and I laugh and talk for what feels like hours! It is now 11:00 and my niece and nephew's sugar high from the chocolate smores has gone and they have fallen asleep on the couch inside, alongside my dogs. 

I look down at my diamond ring twinkling in the light of the stars and the moon.  I think back to all of the wonderful memories throughout my life, as I begin to slowly smile.  My mother peers over at me smiling and looks me in the eye.  I look back at her.  We both stare at each other, both of us waiting for someone to speak.  My mother then starts the conversation with "So, when's the wedding?"  After 10 minutes or so, when my father has finished interrogating my fiancé, he joins the conversation, ending with an "I love you." from both my mother and father. 

I am 14 years old.  My brother, my cousins and I are out in a meadow surrounded by our dogs, barking, laughing and dancing under the sun.  I see flowers and butterflies accompanied by the smell of wet dew and spring rain.  I begin to run, gradually taking off and flying high into the sky.  I see my mother and father slowly becoming less visible.  I begin to fly faster and faster, so fast every object and shape is blurred together.  Suddenly I hear Phineas snuggle up against my side and I am transported out of my dream.  I look over at my nightstand and in the blink of an eye the perfect day has ended; it is 12:01 AM and is now officially the start of a brand new day.