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.)