What's on your mind?

Tina Campbell:

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I'd be writing this. I'm not usually the type of person that has anything interesting to tell the world. As I became an adult, I quickly came to realise that playing the lottery or entering competitions, albeit fun, would never garner me any success. I'm the second-place "best costume" at Halloween parties, the bridesmaid at weddings and the one who was at work during "The Unforgettable Night Out Where Loads of Cool Things Happened," which is constantly referenced to within my friendship group.

I'd even go as far as saying that, before this week, nothing exciting or remotely interesting had ever happened in my 25 years of existence. Yet here I am, writing this Facebook status to all of you; my friends, family, acquaintances, and some people I genuinely don't know (a consequence of spending ten years on this website without ever weeding out the randomers). This status is a long one, I know, but if this is the only exciting thing that's ever going to happen in my life, I'm milking it for all it's worth.

As some of you know, I moved to Whistler, Canada, a few months back. I was searching for mountains, snow, and most importantly, excitement. I needed a change in pace and was unhappy with the direction that my life was heading in. And boy, did Whistler deliver. For those of you who don't know and haven't been keeping up with my incessant Instagram posts: Whistler is a ski village in B.C. It's a beautiful, exciting and extremely expensive place to live. Go and watch my Insta stories if you don't believe me.

I had hoped that living somewhere as cool as here would make me cool by proxy, but I quickly learned that life doesn't work that way. Hucking off of a side-hit on a blue run might seem cool on its own (on the occasions that I managed to land them), but it seems like child's-play when compared to the pros around Whistler; flipping 180s over cliff-edges, as though they were doing nothing more challenging than buttoning a shirt. Nonetheless, these past few months have felt like a dream that I never wanted to wake up from.

This past month has been hard on me, mentally. I was finally getting the hang of snowboarding, getting up early and having actual Instagram-worthy shots to take. My life was becoming, not cool, but as close to cool as someone like me is able to get. I'd even made a few buddies along the way to go boarding with. And just like that, the snow started to melt. How was it possible that I'd been out here for over six months already? How could the season have ended so suddenly? What was I going to do for the next half a year before the snow would fall again?

That was the mindset I was in when I decided to wander around the base of the mountain last weekend. I went there to mourn the sudden loss of my newly-beloved hobby, and to triple-check that there was no hoax, the season was officially over. I got a strange feeling in my stomach when I approached the mountain. No queues, no staff, no moving gondolas or chairlifts, no skis and boards propped up against railings whilst their owners drank copious amounts of pale ale inside Longhorns. The only thing left to serve as proof that this was once a place for skiing and boarding was the remnant of snow patches, which hadn't fully melted yet. With nobody there to stop me, I began to climb the mountain in search of more snow. I kept stopping every few metres to take photos. Eventually, I'd climbed up high enough for there to be more snow than earth. I stood there and looked around me, wishing there was a way to stop the snow from melting, to keep the wet, brown soil from encroaching on my happy place. That was when I saw it.

Half-buried in the glistening snow, about a metre away from me, was what appeared to be a piece of black fabric. It looked like a ski glove or a sock. As I got closer and began to pull it out of the snow, I realised that it was a black, rather expensive-looking purse, with a metal clasp. For a brief second, I half-heartedly hoped to find it laden with hundred-dollar bills, but that was not the case. It was empty. Completely empty.

Disheartened, but not surprised, I kicked out at the snow under my feet. I was stupid for even thinking that I would find anything of value. Or was I? I looked down at the snow I'd been kicking and saw that not all of it was snow; there was a hundred dollar bill underneath my left shoe. Excitedly, I snatched it up and began searching the area for more. After about an hour of searching, my winnings entailed: a crumpled up receipt, a drivers licence, two platinum credit cards and a hefty amount of banknotes. There had to be at least $3000 there in cash alone.

This was beyond my wildest dreams. At that moment, I began to think about what I should do. Surely whoever it was had realised that it was missing? All the bank cards would almost certainly have been cancelled, the licence renewed and the cash considered lost forever. I contemplated leaving the purse and its' scattered contents where it was, pocketing the cash and heading home. I'm not a thief or a bad person, but by my reckoning, the owner of the purse had probably already accepted the loss. Also, who was to say that by handing it in, it would ever make its' way back to its' rightful owner anyway?

I was curious about who would go skiing carrying so much cash on them and picked up the drivers licence. I wanted to know more about who this person was. I got the shock of my life.

As most of you will know, (it's been all over the news for weeks now) Kim Kardashian went missing from her home in L.A.

I FOUND HER PURSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had her drivers licence in my hand, credit cards with her name on them and a receipt from the last purchase she'd made before she went missing! I couldn't believe my luck!

I contacted the police immediately and was congratulated on my find and on helping them in their search. They took the purse and its' contents in as evidence and asked me tons and tons of questions about what I'd found. I was told not to post anything or talk to the media, as the case is still on-going, but considering they're now searching the whole mountain, I'd say that the media frenzy is imminent anyway and I'd rather tell the story first myself, considering that I was the one who found the purse.

To anyone who doesn't believe me, look at the pictures I've added below. The purse, the licence, the cards and the money are all there. And to any news reporters reading this, contact me at this email for any interviews: tinacampbell@gsnail.com

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