Ski Day! (Or: You can teach this girl new tricks)

So today was the day.

A day I would never have thought coming.

If you know me--you know I have an irrational fear of heights, elevators (I don't care if it's 26 stories to the top...if there are stairs, I will most likely be on them), and falling.

So if you had told me even three weeks ago that on December 20th, my ass would be in a ski lift--I would have suggested you go get medicated.

Oh how times have changed. I am a person who does enjoy learning and doing new things. Even if that psychic at Connor Prairie told me that I tend to be a "stick in the mud" (this is not fair..everyone has slow periods and if I choose to stay home and revisit my copy of On Royal and Papal Power or A Woman Named Jackie, that is my business), I find myself, as of late, shocking myself with the things I am taking on.

First with the skiing.

We get to Perfect North Slopes and there a good amount of people. We get our skis and boots (and away I go into the bathroom to put on my puffy pants--which thank god! I bought and wore...it would seem the black overalls were very popular. I was practically chic.) and we are off to our lesson. We took an hour with a very nice kid (17--drat) who taught us the basics. By the end of our lesson, Beth and I were feeling quite competent.

And this would lead to Rhea's Folly.

We go down the bunny slope 10 times or so...each time getting better and better and we start to think that "little" hill over there on the green lift doesn't look so bad. How wrong I was.

And no. I still loathe ski lifts. Dread them. Hate them. Petrified. There is nothing holding you in! And at one point they just STOPPED. I think I might have said "What the FUCK is going on!" a bit too loudly for a family place--but oh well. Some fears are hard to kill...and this one would mainly be the fear of my plummeting to my death from a tiny little swing.

The first time down the big hill was a fiasco. It didn't appear to be THAT high until I got up there. And then it seemed REALLY high and I might have had a small moment of "So.... this is how you are going to die? Well--at least it's interesting." I think it would have been better if I had just sat on my ass and scooted down. The second time was comical. To say I fell down is an understatement. I bit it. Hard. And at one point, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get up with out starting to slide freakishly fast in the backwards direction. I'm sure I looked the fool, but I was so frustrated that I started beating my skis with my poles while I was stuck on the ground. Reaching my breaking point (I believe at one point I wailed "All I want to do is stand up god dammit! Fuck these stupid skis! Assholes!!" Again--not the best vocabulary for kidlets--oh well. Curse words are like the wonderful little condiments of the English language..and I don't trust people who don't swear at some point. It's not natural.), I struggled to get the damn skis off my feet, snatched them up, and attempted to to go down the hill in my boots. This is the first time I hurt my knee. The second time I went down HARD and wrenched it, I literally heard something *pop*. My knee is now the size of a grapefruit--and I sit here with a bag of frozen blueberries on said knee hoping it will go down enough for me to be able to carry down my trash tomorrow morning.

But I survived--and Beth did really well! She is sure to impress her boyfriend on the slopes of Tahoe. Well, I would be impressed--but then again before today, I had never put on skis in my life. So maybe I am not the best judge...whatever. It's hard and she did great...and I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would, which is always a plus.

After skiing--we did the tubing thing. Again..mildly terrifying--but super fun. And really fast! We went down in tandem twice, which makes you go even faster.

Since I didn't die doing either one of these activities, and I now have the snow pants--I guess I'm up for such activities again. As long as you are okay with leaving me on the bunny hill and not mocking my squeal of terror while going down the massive hill while tubing, count me in--I'm game.

And now I am off to a hot bath to soak away the rest of my bumps and bruises.

Then it's back to the frozen veggie section in my freezer. Thank god I still have peas!

Surviving Hell Week, Moving on Wheels, and Snow Pants...(yes--Snow Pants)

So I made it.

Last week was that most wonderful point at the end of the semester where children sell their books back. If you aren't familiar with such a practice--consider yourself lucky. I think the lightest box I packed was around 60 pounds. And yes--I have to move these suckers. I guess I should count my blessings that I don't look like a Russian body builder or something.

Considering that I really had very high hopes of not going through yet another one of these god-awful-weeks from hell, well, I let myself get pretty pissed off at these kids. (Which means, my friends, it's REALLY time for me to find a new job.) If I had to hear from little Suzy Sunshine or Johnny Man on Campus how "I didn't even use this book...and I still passed." or "You don't have to really read this crap, why bother?" or better yet "The prof tells me everything I need to know to pass the tests...why should I do more work?" my head was going to explode. I'm sorry--higher education is NOT A RIGHT. I'm old school: if you can't appreciate the fact that someone is paying almost 100 K for you to go school-you do NOT deserve to be there. Go work at Dairy Queen until you can appreciate learning. I'm just so sick of people from the age of 16 to 25. Guess what? You aren't special, you aren't the best thing to ever happen on this planet, and your parents need to be beaten for creating monsters like you!

There. I'm done with that.

Now, here's a much better mental image for you: me doing laundry in my freaking skates. A girl has got to learn somehow, and why not in the house? The only thing that sucks is my hallway is rather short, so I'm doing a lot of stopping and starting. Oh! And a word of warning: Carpet = stopping. Stopping very fast, actually. What a thing to learn with arms full of folded clothing fresh from the dryer. I guess the good thing is that they, at the very least, padded my fall. The loverly bruise on my knee and on my lower rib cage? Well..they are finally fading to a delightful shade of putrid yellow. Nice. I'm beginning to think Amy and Brittany may be right: A helmet is probably a good idea. Even more funny was the fact that when I went to get my hair cut this morning, Anthony talked about sponsoring the Roller Derby teams in town and trying to learn to skate. I told him where I bought mine because he was having a hard time finding quad skates and I told him of my antics at trying to teach myself so far. After he stopped laughing, he said I should go talk to the girls, as they might need comic releif in the upcoming season.

Yeah..he's a funny guy, isn't he?

And since I am the clumsiest girl ever, of course it is a fantastic idea for me to go skiing tomorrow....

I'm sorry, just typing that made me laugh. Let's be honest here, Rhea will, in all probability, not be skiing. I will be falling. A lot. So there will be a veritable rainbow coloring my body in the near future. Of course, to go skiing, one needs pants. Snow pants.

Do you know how damn hard it is to find snow pants in this town? I finally found a pair of boys overall thingies in black at wal-mart (shudder....wal-mart mere days before christmas). So I've brought them home for the final test: Do they fit?

Oh. Dear. Jesus.

I look like an overcooked Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with breasts. But they fit. Put the the coat on....my new sensible water proof gloves...top it off with the hat...

And now I appear to be an overfed mental patient who has wandered free of the institution.

So much for looking like one of those cute little snow bunnies on the slopes. Since I can't ski--I had at least hoped to appear adorable enough for someone to stop and help me up when I inevitably fall on my ass.

Crap.

Can't I ever catch a break?

Status--Day One: Feeling Good! Just 11 more to go!

Weekend? What weekend?

Between working on Saturday (thankfully we weren't too busy...just busy enough) and then heading out to dinner and downtowning with some friends and then family stuff on Sunday..um. Yea. Where did my weekend go again?

The only bonus? My laundry is kind of caught up.

Kind of. I don't think I've been home for more than 3 hours (with the exception of sleep) in over two weeks. I should be tired..but I'm not.

Will wonders never cease?


So.

I'm on my way to being a gym rat. Well, sort of. Maybe.

I think I will still do my weights at home (tons of muscly type guys there last night working with the equipment..and while last night I was with a chatty bunch--and NOT shy at all, I am sort of the opposite with strangers. Especially when I'm sweating. And they are ripped enough to kill me with their bare hands.) but tonight, I think the rowing machine is calling my name.

Shocking tidbit: I almost did crew in college.

But they expected you to be up at the ass crack of dawn in the cold and then get in even colder water...needless to say, someone was delusional. And it wasn't me.

However, rowing is a fantastic way to tighten up..and since I like it, and they have a machine sitting right there, right there in front of the TV even, what's stopping me?

Nada.

My first night in I ended up doing a little over five miles on the bike and three miles on the elliptical. Not bad, not bad at all.

So..my goal is to do at least 9 miles tonight and the rowing machine.

I feel pretty good actually.

We shall see if this trend continues!

Oh! And the best part of my day (well..sort of this morning since I didn't get home until midnight)..my skates are here!

And yes, I did put them on and goof about in the house. Hmm. It's probably good that I live alone sometimes, huh?

Let the Bloodbath begin...

I'm about to do something potentially dangerous and stupid..but oh well.

Why wait until New Year's to start a resolution when I can do it now?

Thanks to my buddy Amy--I have a a twelve day pass to the uber nice Westview Healthplex...and as the title implies--well, it may not be pretty.

Methinks that I can put in at least an hour a two a day for 12 days straight.

I think I can...I think I can...

After all--what's the point of turning 30 if you won't enjoy it. Meaning..I want to make those 21 year old sorority girls pick their jaws up off the floor. Ha!

And maybe score their boyfriend's phone numbers while we are at it.

Why not? Stranger things have happened...but right now I can't think of any.

At this point, I'm really pumped about my new roller derby style skates..(they look like sneakers with wheels..how cool is that?). Now, they aren't My Little Pony (which I had) or Strawberry Shortcake (ditto), or even Riedells (which I also used to have..I actually used to be pretty good at this stuff), but they are fanfreakingtastically fun! And I'm sure will be the best way to keep the back looking as good as the front (skating does amazing things for the butt people..I'm not kidding).

So as Operation "Get My Ass Moving" starts this weekend, think of me.

And try not to laugh.