My friends Staci and Mandy actually planned this trip. I invited myself along because that kind of fun just wasn’t going to happen without me, dammit. Mandy brought along another friend D, who Mandy simply described as “not a turd”. This has become my new and only criteria of friend-finding. As Mandy says, “I got not time for turds.”
I got to Snowshoe first, the trip was a breeze, with lots of little oddities along the way to keep me amused, and as a bonus my satellite radio never lost signal. Score! I checked in to the room - awesome little room; kitchenette, flat screen plasma TV, big window overlooking the bunny hill and a ski lift. Sweeeet.
Friday night was hanging with the girls laughing like teenagers over the exorbitantly drunk college boys in the lobby inviting us to hang in “the love lobby where ladies drink free til’ midnight” only thing missing with that delivery was the heavy bass line porn music. I feel compelled to tell you these boys were drinking Jim Beam and Sprite. It immediately brought back the night I drank 151 with Mountain Dew. I will never forget the prick that brought that lovely concoction to my house… or how close to Crest toothpaste it tastes, or how much you really don’t want to up chuck Crest toothpaste. That little gem probably belongs on the WVSR ‘things that are true’ list.
My snow boarding lesson the next morning was great, really great.
Right up until the let’s learn to brake part. I seriously sucked at braking (unless you count me using my ass as a brake; and the instructor did not). My (adorable) Australian instructor promised me I wasn’t the worst student he had ever had. That’s little comfort when you’ve got artificial snow down the back of your pants and have fallen at least as many times as years you have lived. Two hours of lesson and I was cold, sore and positive that the only thing harder than actual snow boarding was artificial snow. Mandy took the afternoon lesson and had about as much luck as I did. We made a valiant effort and decided hot chocolate and vodka would be a nice way to spend the rest of the afternoon. We were right.
Staci and D joined us later that evening after their day of swooshing down the mountain. I hear there was a yard sale or two, and that one of them never made off the lift upright, but I’m sure the rest of the time they looked totally cool.
Aside from the dinner menu that included ‘fried bologna sammiches’ as an entrée our night was more of the previous. Girlfriend therapy. These are women I’m so proud to know and so damn lucky to have found. Staci brought coffee mugs that we scribbled the most memorable quotes of the weekend all over. I don’t’ know if the Sharpie will last. Staci says that when the sharpie wears off it’s time for another adventure.
There’s more to tell. There always is, but the girls and I decided that our first annual trip to Snowshoe was our version of Vegas. What happened there, stays there. So if you want to know which of us has “such an American name”, or if the room had a dvd player, or what kinds of problems pretty girls have, meet us at Snowshoe, first weekend in January ’08.
Just ask Lars where you can find us.
I got to Snowshoe first, the trip was a breeze, with lots of little oddities along the way to keep me amused, and as a bonus my satellite radio never lost signal. Score! I checked in to the room - awesome little room; kitchenette, flat screen plasma TV, big window overlooking the bunny hill and a ski lift. Sweeeet.
Friday night was hanging with the girls laughing like teenagers over the exorbitantly drunk college boys in the lobby inviting us to hang in “the love lobby where ladies drink free til’ midnight” only thing missing with that delivery was the heavy bass line porn music. I feel compelled to tell you these boys were drinking Jim Beam and Sprite. It immediately brought back the night I drank 151 with Mountain Dew. I will never forget the prick that brought that lovely concoction to my house… or how close to Crest toothpaste it tastes, or how much you really don’t want to up chuck Crest toothpaste. That little gem probably belongs on the WVSR ‘things that are true’ list.
My snow boarding lesson the next morning was great, really great.
Right up until the let’s learn to brake part. I seriously sucked at braking (unless you count me using my ass as a brake; and the instructor did not). My (adorable) Australian instructor promised me I wasn’t the worst student he had ever had. That’s little comfort when you’ve got artificial snow down the back of your pants and have fallen at least as many times as years you have lived. Two hours of lesson and I was cold, sore and positive that the only thing harder than actual snow boarding was artificial snow. Mandy took the afternoon lesson and had about as much luck as I did. We made a valiant effort and decided hot chocolate and vodka would be a nice way to spend the rest of the afternoon. We were right.
Staci and D joined us later that evening after their day of swooshing down the mountain. I hear there was a yard sale or two, and that one of them never made off the lift upright, but I’m sure the rest of the time they looked totally cool.
Aside from the dinner menu that included ‘fried bologna sammiches’ as an entrée our night was more of the previous. Girlfriend therapy. These are women I’m so proud to know and so damn lucky to have found. Staci brought coffee mugs that we scribbled the most memorable quotes of the weekend all over. I don’t’ know if the Sharpie will last. Staci says that when the sharpie wears off it’s time for another adventure.
There’s more to tell. There always is, but the girls and I decided that our first annual trip to Snowshoe was our version of Vegas. What happened there, stays there. So if you want to know which of us has “such an American name”, or if the room had a dvd player, or what kinds of problems pretty girls have, meet us at Snowshoe, first weekend in January ’08.
Just ask Lars where you can find us.
6 comments:
I'll be there. I want to know these things.
Oh, there MUST be a way to obscure enough details that the stories can leak out... oh please?
How fun! And yay for good friends!
And, you've reinforced my no-snowboarding rule. Skateboards make my wrists hurt, I can't imagine the pain that would come with high, uncontrolled speeds.
I'm gonna stick to skiing. If ever we get some #$%# snow.
Life is for adventures: snowboarding and Vodka in the afternoon--most groovy :)
xoxoxoxoxox
A wonderful photo :)
--Charlie.
Dude - the picture speaks for the whole weekend. Only confident sexy American girl-womyn could pull off that stunt, with or without snowboarding prowess.
Rock on!
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