2004-02-02 - 4:05 p.m.

It Aches and It Pains

I went skiing for the first time in my life. People look at me in shock when I tell them I've never downhill skied before. I've been in California since 1995, and while there are plenty of places to ski, winter sports really are somewhat expensive. No more expensive that going to a fancy opera or major sporting event, but expensive none-the-less.

Every winter a group of Bay-Area Goths have been organizing a Tragedy In the Snow goth ski outing. This year I was invited for the first time, and figured that I should give downhill skiing a try.

I did. I sucked at it. I spent hours practicing on the bunny slope. While I think I've perfected the art of screaming (both in terms of speed and noise) down even the shortest slopes, I did managed to knock over a number of attractive women. By the end of the day I still hadn't really mastered the snow plow (stopping technique) or how to get back up after I've fallen, but I'm now pretty good at managing to sliding and kicking up several cubic meters of snow on people who are so rude as to stand within 5 feet of the spot I would like to stop. It took hours to learn how to turn, but that was because most of the day I was terrified of colliding with somebody.

So yeah, I suck at skiing. But I'll try it again. Eventually I'll learn and become a good downhill skier. For a couple of hours I just watched the hot dogs flying down Heavenly�s Gunbarrel black diamond run. My favorite guys to watch were the ones that would do these corkscrews in mid-air after hitting the jumps on the slopes.

Now, Saturday night after skiing everybody wanted a fire, so naturally I volunteered. But not before warning the cabin full of Goths that I hold the record for having set myself on fire once, my parents home on fire once, and my apartment on fire twice. Each time was an accident, but each time was an honest accident.

They didn't believe me! Why is it nobody believes me? Nobody ever does, but I'm almost always right. And always right when it comes to dishing out facts about me. That is really my best trait, I know my limits. Be it how long it will take to write a 100 page environmental report, how poorly I can ski, or just how quickly I can accidently set a cabin on fire.

Well, now there are a dozen more Goths who refuse to let me play with matches. Folks were running inside from the hot tub after I accidentally triggered the fire alarm. Fortunately the cabin was able to air out after an hour of leaving all the doors and windows opened. But the lesson here is NEVER EVER give a Sagittarius a book of matches and crumpled newspapers!

Interesting side note: my arms, not my legs are sore! I think something must be wrong with me for my arms to wear out before my legs.

n.p. velvet acid christ :: hex angel: utopia dystopia

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