Monday, December 22, 2008

Greetings From A Snowy Purgatory!

Well, here I am at blue mountain. As usual.
Every year, we ship off to Blue Mountain with all our ski/snowboard equipment, enough food to sustain all 3 meals, and clothes. As usual, they ski every single waking hour to squeeze as much "fun" as they can from that lift ticket, and the money for the rooms. I am not talking about "we" here, as I don't really want to squeeze as much as humanly possible out of that poor sticker stuck to my jacket, like a static-y sock stuck to a cat.

I
would like some time in those awesome outdoor hot tubs. My "wonderful" friends would rather try and beat each other on my wii as I make weak protests against sitting there watching them. It has been an hour and a half now, and I hear the golf of wii sports being played. That's right, it has come down to golf. of all the sports, that's the one that nobody plays. ever.

Today, however, I broke with tradition, I slept in, ate breakfast, and informed everyone I was not going snowboarding. Not surprisingly, everybody ignored it, and sat down to watch me eat my breakfast in an attempt to peer pressure me into eating faster so that they can get me bundled up in my jackets, pants, and boots to take me snowboarding. I wasn't going to fall for that dirty trick again, and re-informed all present that I was not going snowboarding at all. Interestingly enough, they eventually left. I sat by the window, finished reading Lord of the Flies [which I enjoyed], took a nap, woke up for lunch, and vegged out until my friends returned. All in all, a very pleasant day.

Of course, then the trouble starts. They begin to pester and bother, and for a while, we're pretty content with T.V. But the allure of the wii is just too much, and they begin a fierce match of wii sports (it was wiiplay yesterday.). ust now, one friend was shoved into a sharp corner, and scraped his back. Yes, they are that competitive.

In case anyone is wondering, no, I have not even had time/opportunity to go guy spotting. Not. Even. On. T.V. The stupid children hanging around has hijacked the remote, and set it on Famly Channel 24/7.

p.s I lost the game.
p.p.s I know this post sounds bratty, but my parents ignored my request to quit snowboarding for good, and instead bribed me in with new snowpants and boots. Yes, I love my new snowpants and boots, but I also remember why I wanted to quit now: My friends are jerks on the hills. Ever since breaking my arm, I just don't have the confidence to speed down the double black diamonds completely out of control. So, when they suggest the double black diamond trails, I protest, and cite responsibility and common sense. Of course, it's all thrown out the window, and me being oldest, is forced to follow along to make sure nobody dies. HOWEVER: I draw the line at the Glades. Against all the things I said, jerk friend #1 hopped into the glades, and dork friend #2 was lured in, like a true pre-teen follower. I stick my heels in here, and simply went down on the outer sides of the glades, to make sure that they don't die. Why I don't go? Well: a) I have no helmet b) I don't have the confidence for that c) I know that none of us was good enough to safely go down them as intended d) the weather wasn't the best e) I'm supposed to be responsible, and I know that ski patrol can't extract injured people very well from there.
So really, I swear, i'm not half as bratty as I sound. If my friends grew some common sense,
maybe I'd like snowboarding more.

3 comments:

  1. Golf is friggin dangerous on the Wii. Actually. Some people have no idea how long their arms are...and no I am not talking about myself!
    You need to come back and save me from my own grocery purgatory. :(

    ReplyDelete
  2. PS - "How Does It End?"
    it spells HIDE, if you take the the first letter of every word and rearrange them.

    So I guess now you know how it ends.

    and my word verification was "waver"

    ReplyDelete
  3. well, you're lucky you went last week and not this one. All the snow is gone. All of it. Btw, Kwanzaa bot = ?

    ReplyDelete