Once upon a time, there was a girl, she fell, a lot. It’s never just a graceful fall, it’s usually a fall that keeps her fall that everyone see’s/feels within a 100 yard radius.
Yep, the girl is me. The first time I ever went skiing, I was 16 and rode up the mountain on a ski lift with a cute college boy, I didn’t know him, but he was cute. While we waited in the little car for the others to fill up, he asked me if I had ever skiied before, ‘nope’. He asked if I had tried the bunny slope, ‘nah’. (who needs that?) He chuckled. We made small talk about life. Nothing to serious. Then, the boy advised me to get off on the first stop on the mountain since it was my first time skiing instead of going all the way to the top. I didn’t listen, I mean puhlease, I’m not a chicken. Even though I knew he was an experienced
cute snow boarder. I glided off the ski-lift, and turned around to go down the hill, and the boy is yelling your doing awesome, angle your toes together and your heels apart so you will go slow at first. I was fully aware the boy was watching me with interest, because most likely he knew what was coming. But ya know, since I KNEW he was watching, I may have been a little over anxious, and didn’t listen to the ‘angle your toes’ part. I awkwardly met that snow in the most ungraceful way possible, and I never saw that boy again. Thank. Goodness.
So now here I am, I’m humilated. I’ve fallen, and I’ve rolled, and I’ve hit myself in the face with my ski somehow, and my ski poles were dropped 10 yards ago on the mountain. I have these massive bruises on my calves because my snow boots were too tight. See, my problem was, I would get to going so fast on the ski’s, that it terrified me, and I would actually make myself fall. But on ski’s it’s not like you can just sit down to stop, it’s a painful tumble. So I stood back up, and I could see the lodge at the bottom of the hill, so I thought to myself I’m going, and I’m not stopping til I get there. So I went, I felt like I was flying like 100mph, and I knew if I could just make it to flatter ground, then I would slow down on my own. Well, since I really couldn’t control my direction, I realized I had turned. I realized in my path there was a college aged boy, in a very relaxed confident stance strapped in his snowboard, talking to a pretty little college girl, who was in her ski’s, playing with her hair as they flirted. I screamed. And I screamed. But they weren’t interested in anyone except each other. I plowed that boy at my ‘100 mph’ and he went flying. My right shoulder met his rib cage with enough force to dislocate my shoulder. I remember laying there on the ground, writhing in pain in the fetal position, and wondering if I had killed that poor fella. Turns out, I didn’t, but he wasn’t too fond of me. I don’t think his college flirt pal was either. Oh well, I apologized as ski patrol carted me off the ski slope. I knew I never wanted to go back again. But I did. Part 2 will be coming next week 🙂
Yep, every morsal of this story is true. My family begs me to strap a video camera to myself just for everyday adventures.
(ps Katie & Jessica: sorry I jacked up your fun day with my injuries, hahaha!)
Okay, now I’m off to burn disks and do some packaging for my lovely clients. I’ll be blogging this family next week, can’t wait for you to see how much awesomeness they contain 🙂