I wrote once about how skiing and I don’t get along. Or, as I like to say, how I skied on my face. And yet, I’m at it again, heading out of town this weekend to face potential disaster. Why, you might ask, am I doing something that I’ve had so little previous success in? Three reasons:
1) PiC is making me and I’m an excellent friend. She and her boyfriend had already rented the house and offered demanded that I and another friend join them. She’s pretty feisty, trust me; you wouldn’t want to cross her either.
2) There’s still a chance that we could possibly go tubing instead of skiing! Much less chance of injury. (Plus PiC told me I could bring my flask. Although, would that increase the risk of injury? Hmm.) I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
3) Regardless, even if we neither ski nor tube, it’s still a weekend away from the city, doing something different. (And by “different” I mean drinking with friends from home in the Poconos instead of with friends in DC. See? Two completely different things.)
If the snow gods are smiling, I’ll spend my weekend doing this:
And NOT come back like this:
I mean, the smile’s fine. The swollen eye, however, might be a pain in the ass, and really doesn’t go with the whole business casual look I sport during the week.
Wish me luck!
Ed. Note: The picture of the swollen eye is NOT me. Promise. But thanks for everyone’s concern!