Dirty Dishes

Because we are all finally recovered from the hellish sickness that was January, on Saturday Chris and I went snowboarding. It was my first time going this season, which brings my grand total of snowboarding trips up to three. And it was also my first time using my new snowboard that I got for Christmas. Last year I borrowed a snowboard from my sister-in-law, who is at least 6 inches taller than I am, so her board was a bit too long for my needs. My new board is the perfect size, and I’m positive that if it wasn’t strapped to a complete athletic retard that it would be a perfect board.

So I spent Saturday falling down a mountain, and today I am so sore I can barely move. I had almost given up hope that I would ever be able to do anything but slide on my heel edge without eating serious snow, until the very last run when something finally clicked in my brain and I began to almost carve. Almost. I have to give most of the credit for my almost carving to the beer I had right before the run. The rest of the credit goes to Chris, who showed the patience of a saint and continued to give me feedback and helpful instruction.

Last year I bought a boarding outfit on sale. An ‘All Sales are Final’ kind of sale. It was a cute outfit in the store, brown with pink accents, but I didn’t really realize until I got home with this outfit that it made me look like a giant turd. A giant turd with pink accents that is. I decided it was fitting though, for me to look like a big piece of shit because I was merely personifying my actual snowboarding ability. However, the highlight of my day on Saturday was as I was getting off the lift for another round of pain and heel edge sliding, a guy who got off right behind me called out “Hey, that’s a cool outfit!” I managed to spit out a “Thanks!” before he took off gracefully down the run. And I was at first quite moved by his compliment. Maybe I don’t look like an enormous piece of poo. Maybe I really do look cool. But then I realized the most logical explanation is that he works as a rep for the company that made my outfit, and he fought hard to sell the turd brown monstrosity. Oh well, at least I made his day.