Oh, you know, walked around Milan, bought some Italian clothes, went to the Duomo, the usual ...

Seriously, look at this thing ...

Let's just say that the Canadian landmarks like, oh I don't know, West Edmonton mall and Anne of Green Gable's house don't really measure up.

OK, so as we were waiting for the awards ceremony in St.Moritz to start, rumours were floating around that they gave out designer handbags to the women. Sure enough, we could see the awards table from afar, with some bags sitting on top, next to a pile of what appeared to be puffy vests for the men.

And I was like, oh great, a purse, just what I always wanted. The guys get a wicked puffy vest, and I am going to get a purse? It's probably going to be pink too.

After four training runs this week, we had our race in St. Moritz, and all of the Canadians made their way onto the podium ... even displacing a few Germans on the way, which, trust me, is no small feat. I swear those Deutschen are born wearing spandex, one hand holding onto a sled.

Skeleton is kinda a frustrating sport (especially after being a gymnast for half my life) because if you are having problems with a certain skill or portion of the track, well, too bad, you only get six runs before a race. Or, IF IT SNOWS RETARDED AMOUNTS ON ONE OF YOUR TRAINING DAYS, four runs.

Remember that part where I complain about how much freakin' snow falls from the sky over this part of the world? And the part where I complain again? And the part where I both whine, moan and complain?

At the risk of you perhaps thinking you have already read this particular post, let me preface it by warning you that I am about to complain about copious amounts of snow once more.

This is what we woke up to this morning ...