Monday, February 08, 2010

Speaking of Super Hopeless Romance....

Pin It In honor of Valentines Day, I thought it would be fun to share a few stories of my tragical romantic misadventures - and they are legion - so all this week I'll be posting about my ridiculous pre-marital love life.  (And when I say "love life" I am seriously stretching the definition of the phrase. My romantic life consisted of a series of hopeless crushes and dysfunctional relationships. It's a miracle that I ended up in a functioning marriage.)

When I was 21, I fell madly in love with one of my best friends, and in an effort to spend more time with him, I decided that it was important for me to learn how to snow ski. 

Of course, I didn't want to actually learn how to ski in front of him, what with the falling and the wobbling and the mockery.  I wanted to learn from OTHER people, and then the NEXT time, I wanted to swoosh in front of him, spraying snow in his face and impressing him with my sassy skills and general awesomeness.  

One chilly weekend we went with a bunch of friends up to Brianhead, this little ski mountain in Utah about three hours from Vegas. My crush headed off for the big slopes while my buddy Dave took me over to the bunny hill and showed me a few basic moves designed to insure I didn't plunge over the edge of a cliff. I'll admit I wasn't listening very closely to what he told me, partly because, HELLO, so many cute boys around and so I must bat my snow covered eyelashes in their direction as much as possible - and partly because I rollerbladed every day and I was convinced it was pretty similar, and therefore, his instruction was pretty much a waste of my time.

After a few minutes I waived him off and took off down the hill, all smiles, swooshing and swushing my little heart out. LOOK AT ME.  SO CUTE!  SUCH NATURAL TALENT!  SUCH FINESSE!  I waved at my friend Terri, who had broken her arm and was spending the weekend sitting on the ski lodge deck.  LOOK AT ME TERRI, DON'T YOU AGREE THAT I'M QUITE AWESOME?

Everything was going smoothly - really, really, really smoothly.  In fact I was sort of - um - RAPIDLY gaining speed and after a minute I realized WHOOPSIE, I didn't know how to stop.  I was tearing down the slope, panicked, sure that if I tried to slow myself down by deviating from my straight-down-the-hill path I would lose my balance and end up cartwheeling down the mountain. Helpful bystanders suggested that I "PLOW, PLOW, PLOW" and "TURN, TURN, TURN," but I ignored them in favor of careening my way downward, screaming and waving my arms until I finally glided to a rest out in the parking lot, humiliated but also strangely exhilarated.

Skiing was AWESOME.

Dave came racing out to the parking lot to make sure I was still alive (thanks Dave), and like a little kid after a roller coaster ride I proclaimed that I wanted to do it AGAIN, and AGAIN and AGAIN.  And I did, but sans Dave, who, after making sure I understood how to slow down and stop, skiied off to pick up on more rational girls.

I loved skiing.  It made me feel athletic in a way that I'd never felt athletic before, with my short stumpy legs and general roundness. I learned how to plow, and turn, and, yes, STOP, but I would still shoot straight down the hill, wanting to go fast, faster, fastest.  When I finally did go skiing with my crush, he was suitably impressed and from then on we were ski buddies.

We would go on group trips to Brianhead and Elk Meadows, or we would go night skiing together after work at the block-of-ice ski slopes up at Lee Canyon (45 minutes from Vegas).  We usually all went out together on Friday nights, and at midnight he'd pull me aside and say "let's go up to Brianhead tomorrow," and the two of us would meet up at 5AM and drive up, spend the day skiing and drive back.  We would talk and laugh the whole way and I thought things were going just swimmingly.  He never asked me out, but we would sit outside and talk (and sometimes we would sit there and NOT talk), and he would stare at me, a speculative gleam in his eye.

One evening, after three hours of night skiing up in the canyon, he drove me home, pulled up in front of my house and shut off the engine. He said he had something to ask me, something he'd been thinking about for a while. And then he gave me one of his patented warm smiles, the kind that made even fairly rational girls melt all over the sidewalk, to say nothing of NON-RATIONAL girls like myself.  I attempted to play it cool, but my internal dialogue was something along the lines of  "Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

He leaned forward and I assumed - well, I assumed he was making his move and so I reciprocated, leaning forward too, closing my eyes, the whole cliche bit.

Turns out I assumed INCORRECTLY.

When I opened my eyes he was giving me a rather alarmed look as he leaned around me, picked up a brochure off the floor of the car and handed it to me.  It was a brochure for a ski resort in California he thought we should all go check out.

But actually, now that he thought about it, it was probably too far away, too expensive and not really that great of an idea after all, and oh, OOPS, look at the time, he really needed to get going.

Oh, the humiliation.  I don't remember how I managed to get out of the car and up to the door, but I clearly remember stomping around the house crying and whispering "stupid, Stupid, STUPID."

To his credit, he managed to act like nothing had happened, and before the week was out he seemed to forget all about it, calling me as much as ever and jabbering on about our next ski trip.

But it was a few weeks before I could bring myself to look at him again.  And when I did, I made sure to be extra sarcastic and biting, just so that he would know that despite what had happened, I wasn't actually INTERESTED, in fact there was no way in Hades that I would ever, ever, ever be interested.  Probably he hallucinated the whole thing because clearly I was ONLY associating with him for skiing purposes. 

And that probably would've been fairly effective had I not - done what I did next.  But I'll save that for my next post.

(If you want to play along, feel free to post about your romantic misadventures - I'll have a McLinky up in tomorrow's post so that you can share your (hopefully equally humiliating) post with us.)

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30 comments:

  1. Sounds sort of like my first, and only, time skiing. My instructor was named Cody, and he was hot. And then I fell over and could not get up for the life of me, pretty sure he lost interest at that point. Because he was in to me. I know it.

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  2. Ah. Romance is in the air.

    Along with shouts of near-death experiences.

    There's nothing like Valentine's Day.

    (For the record, my first skiing experience was similar. Only I really did cartwheel down the bunny hill. Into the line of people taking the tow rope up. And the tow rope almost burned a hole in my jeans before the operator got it off my leg which was trapped underneath. Also? No cute boy. Sigh.)

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  3. Skiing almost killed me - give me the beach any day.

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  4. I don't have any cool dating stories like that. The only one I have involved my sticking my hand down my date's pocket looking for change and grabbing what I thought was a roll of quarters.

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  5. i have so many hopeless stories. and i've never been downhill skiing. i'm pretty sure i'd break something or kill myself. and it would definitely be in front of a cute boy. i think i'm pretty stupid when it comes to men.

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  6. I'm so impressed that you're a skiier. I've never even got up the courage to try--well, not that I remember anyway. My mom tells me that she took me skiing when I was about three, but since I remember nothing of this, I think it's safe to say that I probably wasn't a prodigy. But even before I started having balance issues, I was never the most graceful little flower. In fact, I have a hard enough time remaining upright when I'm barefoot.

    BTW, you can bet I'll tune in to hear the rest of your harrowing dating woes. :)

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  7. My romantic misadventures weren't funny--just pathetic. But YOU seem to make yours funny so maybe I'M just pathetic.

    (Okay, Adhis's comment made me spit food on my computer. Maybe it's just that EVERYONE is funnier than I am.)

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  8. I'm SO in on this misadventure bit. I went skiing with a boy I liked, too, who LIED when I asked him if he was a good skier. I said, "Great! I can't ski either. Perfect!"

    He had a great time laughing at me fall, from the bottom of the hill after he had paralleled down the slope. He even started rating my falls. The jerk.

    It couldn't have been all bad, though, 'cause I did end up marrying the guy. I got much better at skiing after that. He still ditches me for moguls, though.

    I have an awesomely embarrassing kissing moment, though, that I'll post at MMW and link back. I'm loving this game, because, sadly, when it comes to romantic mishaps, I'm afraid I'm a very good player.

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  9. Oh, I'm really looking forward to this week. Reeeeally looking forward to it.

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  10. SOOOO Funny! Thanks for sharing! I'm lookin forward to the next post!

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  11. I'm so glad by the time I fell in love with my best friend, he was in love with me, too. {drip drip sap sap}

    p.s. I was talking about your bloganthropic thingy to Superman the other day, saying, "Sue, you know, the famous Sue is hosting this thing--"

    "Sue, the Liar?"

    "What?"

    "Isn't she the one who wrote that one blog?"

    "Oh, umm...yeah. But she's still cool."

    :o)

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  12. Ouch.

    Still snorting over the roll of quarters, Adhis.

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  13. I would much rather drink hot cocoa and read a book in the lodge than ski, but I did go skiing with my now DH while dating. BIG mistake. I'm surprised we still got married. Never, never, NEVER have your significant other teach you something. It rarely goes well...

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  14. So more or less you WERE Cordy... You poor thing - I think I would've been too embarrassed to show my face again.

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  15. Debbie11:59 AM

    I had so many crushes like that, but I was never actually good friends with any of them. Probably would've made it harder to get over.

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  16. Oh dear. I can't wait to hear the rest, but only because I, back in the day, did some astoundingly gutsy (and ill-timed) (and poorly advised) things for guys too. I'm cringing with you not at you.

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  17. Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Had to come out of lurkdom to tell you I remember exactly when this happened. hahahahaha You were so embarrassed. Remember when you wrote him that letter? Oh and when he started dating T and when he was interested in Katie? I will never never forget how you said "there aren't enough tears in the world." hahahaha Oh how you always make me laugh, back then and now.

    love ya

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  18. Oh and when you ground up that letter! I totally forgot about that until now HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

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  19. Sometimes I'm kind of glad I was the shy girl in my youth. It means I don't have TOO many stories like this one (because hello, I NEVER even made eye contact with cute boys). But then...it means I don't have fun stories like this one to make my friends giggle over...

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  20. If that's your starter, can't wait to hear the rest ...

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  21. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever publish or write more of your Super Hopeless Romance saga!!! I miss it! I may just have to go back and read it again, I still have it on my side bar. I know pathetic!!!

    So my story or one of them at least was my first kiss. I had gone on a date with a guy from high school I liked. Well he kissed me outside at his car just before I went into the house. I remember my mom and Grandfather were there. My mom asked me if he kissed me and I started screaming and jumping up and down. Only to see him standing at the door (it was a glass door) So he saw the whole thing and heard me screaming that he kissed me! I wanted to die!!!

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  22. Oh my gosh!!! I'm crying over here, you've made me laugh so hard. I wish I was good at writing like that! If I can figure out how to make my romantic misadventure funny, I'll totally join in!

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  23. Ouch! So painful...I avoided all that type of embarrassment by never, ever being alone with a boy until I was at least 23 or so.

    And I always wanted to be sassy, but it never worked.

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  24. You are my hero, you know that right?
    I am wayyyyyy to chicken to share mine (few and lame as they are:))
    Thanks for the laugh and don't wait to long to post.
    Please.
    :)

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  25. I'm glad I've never gone skiing.

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  26. I desperately with my romantic misadventures were far enough from my memory that I didn't think about them and wander the house whispering "stupid, stupid, stupid!" (though I am glad I'm not the only one who does that!)

    Keep going! I'm dying to hear what happens next!

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  27. You GLIDED to a stop in the parking lot?!?! That is completely unfair. No one is that lucky. Least of all me. I learned to ski at Brianhead, too.

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  28. Wow. Your first skiing experience was exactly like mine, but I plowed a guy right over before coming to a stop. I was SO bruised after that experience, but ready to do it again. Strangely my date never asked me to go skiing again.

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  29. Oh, see. This is why I'm glad I'm overly repressed and never shared my feelings with a guy first. Sure, I probably missed out on some good make out sessions that way, and no, I didn't get married until I was 32, but um . . . wait, why didn't I just take the plunge?

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  30. I think the common thread to a lot of your best stories is a teensy-weensy little streak of impulsivity . . .

    I'm so glad you're writing these types of posts again! I don't think I dare contribute anything, though--there's still only one or two degrees of separation between me and most of my ex-flames.

    Adhis, you made me laugh so hard I nearly cried. I think that one sentence trumps many a longer story.

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