Archive for the ‘friends’ Category

r.i.p. r.a.p.

Richard Austin Peterson, my dad, died today, 1PM CST. in Nashville, TN.

the professor

can’t or don’t want to keep up with the joneses or anyone else for that matter

Get a life, Twitter.  Screw you, Facebook.

What is my problem?  I would like to appreciate Twitter as it seems to be an amazing communication tool for reporting things that are happening in the farthest reaches of the world where technology and/or political or religious restrictions have made it hard to know what’s really happening.  I see the same 4 or 5 people updating and twittering over twenty times in a day.  Granted I don’t “follow” that many people on Twitter, but seriously, who needs to communicate that much?  It reads as egotistical to me, posting every hour.  Does anyone want to read every thought that enters your mind?  Who has the time?  How do you have the time to make this many observations and still get anything done?

I like Facebook, and I love getting a glimpse into my friends’ day-to-day lives with their interesting and relevant status updates.  But there are some who update constantly.  All day.  I don’t understand it.  And what’s with all the complaining and woe-is-me?  Or the obvious statements that amount to polite conversations between strangers waiting for an elevator?  Yes, I live in the world and it’s hot where I am in the summer, too.  I’m annoyed about the rain as well.  Deep thoughts.

If you’re going to update, have something to say or at least be silly and/or entertain me.  Do I need to know you had four cups of coffee today or that you slept till 11am?  Should I send you some aspirin because your status reads you have a toothache?  In describing and photographing what you’re having for dinner are you inviting me for a meal or just taunting me?  I enjoy the glimpse, but if I wanted a full picture, I’d call you or email you or see you.  In person.  Yeah, weird.

Gee-zus, am I turning into an old lady?  “Am I so out of touch?  No.  It is the children who are wrong.”  - Principal Skinner, The Simpsons.

I started a blog not just to have a soapbox to climb atop and bitch, but to tell my friends what was going on with me and my cancer and my chemo in detail.  Yes, I’m a Leo, so me likey lots of attention, sure!  But I’ve no doubt that if I had been on Facebook when I was first diagnosed I wouldn’t have mentioned it much there.  It’s not my style.  Just as it’s not my style to feel sorry for myself.  Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of poor me, poor me, pour me another moments, but I try to force perspective.  I make myself see how good I have it in the grand scheme of things.  And when I complain, I try to make it fun, funny, or constructive.

That’s all.

happy birthday to me at 14,000 feet - part 2

When they opened the door at the back of the plane, I put on my goggles and Scuba reminded me of our sequence.  Hands on chest straps, head back against his shoulder, jump, push the bush and kick back, shoulder tap then open arms.  I was ready.  I turned and looked at Tony whose face was lit up like a 10 year old opening the birthday present he’d hoped for so badly and he said, “We are going to jump out of a fucking airplane!!!”

The cabin quickly emptied out and I hardly noticed others leaving.  Suddenly I was being pushed along to the end of the bench for my turn.  Terri went right before me and I got the privilege of seeing her go.  The look of absolute horror on her face was astounding.  It said, “This can’t be right, this isn’t what I meant to do.  What could I possibly have been thinking?!”  But there was no turning back.  And I knew my face would tell a very different story because I was pumped!!

We stepped to the doorway, Scuba pushed my forehead back and we jumped.  Surprisingly I remembered everything I was supposed to do and suddenly we were in our free fall.  There wasn’t what I’d call a disconnect happening in my brain, but this was so far from anything I’d ever experienced that I don’t think I was able to fully process it.   I was there, body and mind, but it was rather surreal.  The only complaint I had was I wished he’d told me I wouldn’t be able to breathe.  Since the free fall is only one minute in duration, I told myself it was a minor inconvenience.  Clearly it was breathtaking and definitely exhilarating.

They’d said it’d be cold up there and they were right - it was frigid.  Falling at a speed of 120mph  didn’t help, either.  We fell through some clouds, which I loved, and they were just like long cold mists.  I must have been able to breathe at some point because I remember screaming and screaming “WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  OH MY GOD!!!  WOOOOOOO!!!!  WOOOOOOOO!!!”

Soon enough it was time to open the parachute and just like in the movies the resistance from the chute yanked us back up a couple yards.   I couldn’t stop yelling, “That was AWESOME!!! That was AWESOME!!!“  as we floated.  At this pace I was able to take in the scenery and appreciate the earth from above.  It reminded me a bit of the hot air balloon ride I went on a few years ago except no basket.  Then we did some spinning first clockwise then counterclockwise and fastfastfast.  Who knew something could be so serene yet so exciting?

Scuba did more tricks and fun stuff in the 6-7 minutes we had in the air and then we prepared for landing.  I lifted up my knees and put my legs out in front of me as we neared the ground.  Our landing was smooth and easy - no real bumps and jerks, just a soft glide down, a little bounce on the butt and we were back on earth in one piece.  Each.

We all found each other at the hangar where they keep the gear and parachutes and Tony and I had full-on perma-grin.  It was like the best amusement park ride ever.  I knew right away I wanted to do it again.   Tony and I decided then and there that eventually we’d take the class to get certified so we can jump on our own.  Sadly, Terri really was frightened and didn’t have the same thrilling experience we did.  But she is glad she did it.  I was feeling badly about it until I realized none of us knew quite what to expect, so how could I be responsible?  It was my idea, yes, but beyond that, it was out of my hands.  It’s strange how naturally and easily guilt comes upon me.  And I’m not even Catholic.  I’m not religious at all.

After we each phoned our sweeties we drove back to Boston.  We picked up Leslie and Sean and went to dbar for dinner and drinks.  Chris couldn’t come because he was playing on the Vineyard, as usual.  The food was superb (I had a delicious dish of scallops on risotto and, of course, wine) and the company delightful.  Terri and Leslie gave me a ride home.  It was a gorgeous evening and I wanted dessert (duh) so we got ice cream at JP Licks and strolled through Davis.  A glorious ending to an utterly insanely awesomely fantastic day.

Mel and I always used to quote the old commercial for the ice cream Frusen Gladje, saying “Honey, I ate all the Frusen Gladje.  …. And I’d do it again.”  Now I say “Honey, I jumped out of an airplane.  And I’d do it again.”  And as Scuba likes to say, “drive fast and take chances!”

roo and scuba flyin roo and scuba

happy birthday to me at 14,000 feet - part 1

The original idea was to go skydiving on August 9th, the day before my birthday.  Things don’t always go according to plan.  Yesterday I finally jumped.

I’ve been wanting to do this for some time now.  After I finished chemotherapy at the end of August last year, I realized I’d better get on it.  But I was scared.  I put it off.   And I put it off.  I found any number of reasons to postpone and then in May or so realized if I was going to do it, I had to make a firm plan with a deadline.  Why not jump on or around my birthday?

Originally I invited a large number of friends to go and caravan up to Maine because I thought we’d get a group discount.  Asking people “Would you be interested in skydiving?” made for an interesting peek into their personality.  I was very often surprised by the answers I got.  People I thought would be into it weren’t and vice versa.   And both camps were forceful in their replies either way.

For a while there I had eight people coming with me, but scheduling was a hassle and money was a problem for some.  My skydiving group wound up just three: me, Tony and Terri.

We met at my place at 10am and headed for Sound Bites for breakfast, but the lines both there and at the Neighborhood forced us back to Johnny D’s.  This wasted 30 minutes of our precious time - I blame only myself.   That and the mile of traffic at the New Hampshire tolls almost made us miss our 1′o’clock “class.”  But we phoned to say we were running late and Terri sped gaily forth and got us there in the nick.

I put quotation marks around class because one could hardly call it a class in the traditional sense. They sat our group in a room whose quality was the equivalent of your uncle’s rec room complete with well-used, likely trash-salvaged couches with awful colors and worn woven patterns and a giant low-res TV.  A young pierced and slightly ratty punk-haired girl throws a DVD in the player and narrates along with footage of a woman’s first dive and gives pieces of advice here and there, like not to wear any jewelry and to empty your pockets because “that lucky penny isn’t so lucky when it flies out and hits someone in the face.”  During the next portion of the video, which was footage of experts and trick moves she had comments like, “Yeah, that move is so bad ass.”

Then we arrive at the liability portion of the class.  The over-copied barely legible legal papers they’ve given us to sign detail how we decided to jump out of a plane of our own free will, so this agreement absolves NESkydiving of all blame if we are injured or die as a result of our dive.

And that concludes our “class.”  We head out to the main gear store to pay our balance minus deposit.  Because there was a lot of cloud cover in the morning, the jump schedule is backed up.  They ask us to be patient and wait for our names to be called.

I knew there’d be waiting involved so I brought activities, but we were all so keyed up there was no way we could concentrate on a card game.  We watched as the skydivers landed and others planned out their in-air choreography.  Really cool stuff.

skydivers 1I took some shots of the sky, too.  How bizarre it was to look up at nothing but sky and clouds only to have it slowly fill up with 10 to 20 parachutes right before our eyes.

skydivers 2

So we waited and waited and waited.  When they called our names we all looked at each other with excitement.  Naturally I ran to the bathroom first.  Came out and met my Jump Master, Scuba.  He was as gregarious and I am so I was immediately very comfortable.  He got me all geared up/strapped in to my harness when it clouded up again.  We were put on an indefinite hold.  - You can’t jump unless the plane can see the ground and the ground can see the plane.

Since we had time I asked Scuba if he could show me exactly what we’d be doing using this wooden mock plane they had there.  We went through the motions of squatting and scootching up to the low-clearance doorway.  I would have my hands on my chest straps and he would push my head back along his shoulder so he could see as we jumped out.  As soon as we were out the door I was to thrust my pelvis forward (or “push the bush” as his Jamaican fellow divers call it) and kick my legs back behind me as though I were trying to kick his rear end.  Once he tapped my shoulder I could put my arms out.  After a minute of free-fall he’d open the chute and we’d glide down to earth.  I started to grasp what the hell I was about to do.

Tony and Terri opted to wear the offered flight suit, so in the pictures they look like official skydivers.  But the suits were warm and it was hot out, so they took them off till while we sat and waited for our group to get called up again.  Since I wasn’t wearing a suit I kept my harness on.  After about half an hour I got up and announced I would ask Scuba to help me out of my harness; surely once I was unfettered they’d call our names.

Which they did.  After some more waiting on the truck that would transport us to the plane, we were on our way.

roo & tony  tony & terri
roo & terri

trio i think we’re ready  Excitement by this time was so electric I didn’t have room in my body to be nervous.  I knew I wasn’t about to back out at this point.    They drove us over to the plane, loaded us in attached to our JMs and we scooted back straddling one of the two parallel benches.

Once the plane took off I stared out the window with an enormous grin on my face.  Scuba said, “Now there’s the look of someone who wants to skydive!”  :)  Yep.  Tony was sitting next to me in front of his JM Matt and Terri was with her JM, Chad, right in front of me.

Once we hit 10,000 feet Scuba started tightening all my straps and double checking we were hooked onto each other as we should be.

demographics

I saw the Sex and the City movie last Saturday afternoon and I LOVED it. Sneaked in my candy arsenal in my backpack to share with Greenwald, Tony and Sean. We demolished the Sugar Babies before the first reel. I’d forgotten how great they are and how addicting. Sugar sugar sugar…

We saw the 3:15PM show and it, like all the rest that day, was sold out. Being that our seat arrangement went Tony (aisle), Melissa, Sean then me, I made friends with the couple to my left. Greenwald was laughing, saying “Ruth makes friends wherever she goes. Must be the Southerner in her.” Kip, my new bud, and I noticed the overwhelmingly female audience and thought to count the males in our theater. I stood up, looked around, and took tally.

Twelve.

Twelve dudes in a theater that seats approximately 325 people (I’m underestimating the room’s capacity here). And two of them weren’t straight, so there were at most ten straight men at our show.

I just heard somewhere that most men would rather be shot than be made to watch Sex and the City. Come on, really?!! Is it that bad? Are the estrogen levels so alarmingly high you’re worried you might leave the theater knowing the difference between a stiletto and an espadrille? Or how to say Manolo Blahnik and Louis Vuitton? Is the humor so woman-centric as to marginalize men? I’m seriously befuddled by this. Some of my absolute favorite movies of all time are male-bonding movies. Diner, Stand By Me, Breaking Away, Dazed and Confused (sorta male-bonding), Bull Durham, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, The Big Lebowski, Fandango. The list goes on.

Frankly, women don’t have many overtly bonding movies to claim. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, How To Make an American Quilt and Little Women come to mind, but they were all books first. Beauty Shop, maybe? Moonlight and Valentino? Satisfaction? ha ha Thelma and Louise. Ok, but they died. Heavenly Creatures. Ok, but they committed murder. Heathers. Ok, but they committed murder and they were (hilariously) all-out catty to each other. “Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?” Only at the VERY end is there saving grace.

My mind is blanking. There must be more female-bonding films in existence and I can’t think of them right now. This happens to me a lot. I can think of things only when I’m not trying to think of them. If you know of any, please let me know.

The series Sex and The City was fantastic. No, it wasn’t always top notch or perfect pitch, but what is? The writing was incredible, the characters interesting and well-defined, and, my god, the clothes! The shoes! The men! The handbags! All of it was delectable eye candy for us ladies. Inviting veneer. Dig a little deeper and substantively despite their break-ups and make-ups, their pregnancies and miscarriages, their career successes and failures, their public humiliations, their boyfriends, husbands, one-night stands and Samantha’s lesbian phase, those four main characters’ friendships remained intact and strong.

Their steadfast relationship with each other is something a lot of women have or want. We identify with them and see ourselves or some of our own characteristics embodied in one or a combination of Charlotte, Miranda, Carrie and Samantha. They’ve been there for each other through thick and thin and, unfortunately, you just don’t see a lot of that in the media.

Girls are so often portrayed at catty and conniving and selfish and mean that, to me, this movie is practically a revelation. Yes, I love all the eye candy, I mean, I am a girl. (As much as I never considered myself much of a girly-girl, my tastes have become more and more so over the years. And I have always been a sucker for the romantic comedy.) But the scene that brought me to tears in the movie of Sex and the City was a sweet, touching moment of true sisterhood and friendship; one that gives me goosebumps even as I recall it.

I wonder about the girls who see Sex and the City with their male significant other. Did the fellas want to go? If not, why didn’t she go with a girlfriend? Or see it alone? That’s what I’d do. I wanted to dress up, but didn’t have time between the gym and getting downtown. Turned out many women there were dressed to the hilt. And why not? It reminded me of Rocky Horror Picture Show -in a way- and I found it charming and fun. And maybe they were going out afterwards.

Men shouldn’t feel obligated to go see this flick, obviously. I just don’t understand why they’d choose a gunshot to sitting through it. Wah wah wah. Here’s an idea, why don’t you thank the people who made the movie for giving you four full hours of girlfriend-free-fun-time instead of bitching? Now go home, play with your Wii and shut the hell up.

i loathe a parade

There was a Memorial Day Parade in Somerville today. The parade route passes in front of my apartment. If I’d been home while it happened I’d have maybe watched some of it out of my window then gone to the other end of the house and tried to block it out somehow.

As it was my friend Terri was trying to drive us to my place from the gym so I could get a change of clothes and go kayaking with her. The parade wasn’t scheduled to start for another 2 hours, but driving the 6 blocks from Porter ended up taking 20 minutes thanks to all the closed roads. Closed for one mere block, why?

So here’s my question: What is the point of a parade? I do not get it. As a child I remember thinking, ‘what the hell is this?’ I think I’m coming out of the closet, as it were, to say I loathe a parade. Parades are booooring. It’s like they’re created for people who don’t like actually doing things. I enjoy watching interesting things, don’t get me wrong, but sitting and watching other people march whilst sort-of-doing-things does not hold my attention. Marching bands? Yawn. They can play and march and turn their heads in unison. Wonderful. Unless it’s some kind of new wavey hip-hop neat-o coolio marching band (what was that movie?…) I can do without it.

The way I figure it parades are made for same the kind of people whose ideal vacation is the one where they laze on the beach every day. Which is not my ideal vacation. If I were on a beach vacation (there’s always a first time!) I’d rather be taking part in activities, say snorkeling or attempting to surf or climbing something or hiking. Just don’t place me immobile in direct sunlight for any serious length of time. 10 minutes post-swimming in the pool (or however long it takes to dry) is about all I can take.

The word parade itself appeals to my ear and I like the way it looks aesthetically, but that’s as far as my appreciation goes.

Obviously there must be people who love parades or the song “I love a parade” wouldn’t exist. Ah, thank you Merrie Melodies. The first time I saw the floats in the Thanksgiving Day Parade in NYC was interesting, but once is enough. Maybe revisit every few years, perhaps once every ten. Same with Gay Pride. Now THAT’S an impressive spectacle and is always bursting with energy and fun, but again, once every few years is enough. Otherwise even it gets stale.

Right. So anyway, I hope you all enjoyed your Memorial Day weekends. As I wrote above, I went kayaking for my first time and had a blast! Who knew it was so cheap and easy? $15 for an hour on the Charles and they give you a kayak, an oar and a safety vest. No fuss, no muss. Loved it and I plan to do it again. Sure beat sitting around watching a parade, but it wouldn’t take much to beat that for me.

smitten

maudie on the bedI’ve finally met Matilda, my goddaughter, in person. She is amazing. The pictures I’d seen didn’t do that little nugget justice. She’s the most well-behaved, serene and smiling little round-faced marshmallow. I am utterly smitten.

K8 was in town with her husband Peter who was attending a conference at the Hynes Convention Center. She came over on Sunday and we went to brunch on the corner. Matilda is so well-behaved, she was quiet and merely grabbed at things on the table and got oodles of compliments on her beautiful, smiling face from other patrons.

We spent some time at my place and took a nice little walk to a toy store. Maudie loved the air filled little… horsey? We figured we need to buy that for her next time.

maudie with roo

maudie on the horse Because this was my first time meeting Matilda I took Tuesday off to be with K8 and the little one. I’ve been wanting to visit the IKEA in Stoughton, MA and since K8 and Peter had driven up from Hoboken and K8 was interested in getting a few things, too, we decided a fun shopping trip was in order. Despite Peter thinking we were crazy, I met the girls in Copley and we drove South.

maudie’s first visit to ikeaIKEA took up our entire morning and some of the afternoon. I’ve always hated traffic driving South and that had a lot to do with what took so damn long. The other two things that may have taken up time were the fact that IKEA really is an enthralling, enticing, museum-like place and the fact that we were with a six-year-old. Even though I found her to be extremely low-maintenance, she still needed to be fed more than we did. So we paused here and there and took our sweet time wandering and looking at all the things we wanted to buy.

After getting our own sustenance (IKEA hot dogs hit the spot - yummers!) we headed back to Somerville to drop off my new chairs and hung out with Tony for a few hours. Later that night we went back to K8 and Peter’s hotel and then had a delicious meal at Tapeo.

Another great visit.


i need this rainy day

rothko-blue.jpgI truly like rainy days. It isn’t the whole ‘you can’t appreciate the sunny days without the rainy ones’ for me, but there’s probably some of that in there. I like sunny days, too, but as I’ve written before, I prefer there to be clouds up there, too. Mostly because my eyes are light sensitive and my pale skin would prefer to stay pale. Also it gives me something to look at in the sky. The other day I was outside getting my lunch downtown and the clouds were moving so fast! I just stood there with my neck craned, staring at the sky framed by buildings. It was like a movie. I could have stayed there for 20 minutes, it was amazing. If I could have filmed it I would have.

But there’s something cool about a rainy day and not being able to tell what time it is by looking outside. I love that. It was lovely to be lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain pounding on my roof/ceiling, too. I need those days when I don’t feel obligated to enjoy the fine weather, when I can stay in and get things done inside and ignore the out-of-doors. Today’s that kind of day.

Of course, I woke up later than usual this morning, no thanks to staying up so late last night. I essentially got up and went straight to class. Then I went to brunch with my friend Terri to do some catching up. We hadn’t seen each other since December (!!) so, as you can imagine, I didn’t get home until 3pm. Zoikes.

rothko-orange.JPGI’ve much to do yet today because tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow I finally get to meet my goddaughter, Matilda!! Yes, K8 is in town with her husband, Peter, at a conference. She’s coming over tomorrow after my step class (are my priorities out of whack?) and we’re hanging out in this neighborhood and maybe Harvard all day. Should be great, but I have some things yet to check off my to do list. I also took Tuesday off to hang out with them in town. I’m doing this right.

In case you need something happy and light to look at on this rainy day, I’ve included a nice, bright orange painting by Mark Rothko as well as the blue one up above that mirrors the day a little more. He’s one of my absolute favorites, if not my favorite. I found this one the other day and used it as my desktop’s background. Can you tell I like orange? Makes me happy. But there’s nothing like a Rothko in person; the paint appears to float and hover in front of the canvas. It’s wild.

I’m off to check things off my list.

unexpected flowers

I was at work yesterday (Valentine’s Day) going about my daily routine, trying to make sure I got everything done so I could leave a little early and make it to 5PM hour ride at the gym. Suddenly noticed a msg on my mobile. Turned out someone had delivered flowers to my address and they had to leave them on the porch.

k8 flowerYAY, flowers!!! I thought. That’s awesome. But, dangit, I hope no one makes off with them. Since December I’ve had two deliveries lifted from my front porch, one from Sephora and one from REI. I’ve lived in the same apartment for over 4 years and had plenty of packages left on the porch with no incident. This is a brand new and incredibly unwelcome phenomenon. I mostly have things delivered to work now.

Then I wondered who would have sent me flowers. I had a few guesses, and my third guess was K8, honestly. So after double spin and weights and abs for hours with Joanne - we really do have fun doing this together - I went home hoping my flowers would still be there. And there they were!

k8 flowersAs soon as I saw them I knew it had to be a girl who sent them. And someone who knows me, because I love gerber daisies. They’re just so happy looking, even though they don’t smell much. Gerbers are great, peonies are plush and fragrant, lilies are grand, daffodils, lilacs and hyacinth smell like Spring. All good. I do not particularly like roses, the fall back Valentine flower. I wouldn’t turn down roses, but I do not prefer them. Girls know what flowers other girls like. That’s just how it is. Not that no boys understand about flowers, but for the most part I’ve found they’re fairly clueless about the esoteric things. I say, if your dude gets you flowers, just be happy about it. Good behavior should be reinforced, wouldn’t you agree?

I wanted to make sure I photographed my gorgeous flowers so that K8 could see for herself what a great job her florist did. I don’t know how she found them, but they are amazing. They delivered the bouquet she sent me last year after my surgery and it was my absolute hands-down favorite. It was stunning. So stunning I posted about it here.

So, again, thank you K8. It’s not just the flowers, it’s everything you said about them, too, about how Valentine’s Day is a very different holiday since last year. It meant a lot to me - made me cry, of course - and I love you dearly. I am a lucky, lucky girl to have you in my life.

next time knee pads

For some reason after work on Friday I decided not to go online or even open my laptop for a while. It wasn’t until Saturday night at 8PM or so that I did open it up. Felt a little strange not to check my email or look at myspace or anything for over 24 hours, but it was also good. I think I’ve been too plugged in lately.

When I did finally go online I found an email from my friend Keith. He sent it Friday night to let me know he was planning to snowboard on Sunday - his first time. We’ve known each other for years, but not super well. He’s been checking in on me through the blog and we’ve found a number of similarities we didn’t realize we had (both adopted, both love cycling). He saw my snow pants entry and so he thought to invite me snowboarding with him.

My usual reaction to invitations like this one is to say thanks, but no thanks. I had writing (blog! music! journal!) and reading I still wanted to do as well as some other things on my running to-do list. It was already past 8 and I was only just about to make some dinner. I knew if I went I’d have to get up early on Sunday and I wanted to sleep in.

But I thought about it. My resolutions (sm’utions) were clear: try new things/face my fears/don’t let my to-do lists box me in. Well now, here was a way to tackle those three. Plus I now have snow pants!! And hadn’t I just said to a friend on Friday that I wanted someone to invite me snowboarding (b/c I don’t have a car and I don’t feel like renting one, though I will if I need to)? Yes. I had.

[Funny, I’ve got my iTunes on random right now. This song by XTC called One Of The Millions is playing and the words are incredibly appropriate for that last paragraph. “I won’t rock the boat, ’cause I’m scared what might happen. I won’t rock the boat, ’cause I’m one of the millions, who never seem to do anything.” There’s more, check it out. But then, I love XTC.]

I emailed Keith back and said yeehaw, let’s go. My books aren’t going anywhere, neither is my journal or my laptop or whatever else I need to deal with or take care of.

He got here at 8:15AM, we had coffee and scones at Diesel and we were off. Dealt with paying for my snowboard and boot rental as well as a lesson at 10:15AM. We were both thrilled beyond belief that it was snowing out. How lucky! They hadn’t forecast much for up north, all the snow was supposed to be on the Cape, but we got a bunch. It was just coming down the whole time we were there.

Our instructor, Elliot, was a very cool 17 year old kid who’s been boarding for 7 years. !!! Right? I wish I could express how much I wish I’d been stuck on a pair of skis when I was little, but that just wasn’t an option in Nashville. Now I’m wishing I’d even considered going skiing when I was in college. But I will not look back with regret, I will continue to move forward and enjoy what I’m doing now.

keith at nashoba roo at nashoba

keith on his boardWe boarded down the learning slopes for about three hours. To the left here is Keith on his board heading down the hill. I forgot to hand him my camera to take my picture on my board. dur.

After an hour or two I really felt like I was starting to get it, I was able to calmly glide down the hill without falling and then do a nice slow turn to end the run. But I wasn’t doing much real turning.

I probably could have just kept going and going and then driven home and eaten then. But I was hungry and Keith was dying of thirst. We went to the “lodge” and ate not-awful cheeseburgers. I figured I’m getting a workout on what was going to be my off day (workout-wise) so what the hell.

We went back out and someone had taken my rental board. Fortunately they just gave me a new one and didn’t fuss at all. I guess most people don’t pay attention to the number on their board, but I did and I was kinda pissed. But anyway, I’m not sure if it was the new board or the time of day or the burger making my belly full, but I got back out on our mini slopes and bit it. I bit it big. We were on a higher hill now and I was hauling ass, picking up way too much speed and unable to turn or guide the board well. I wiped out on my ass, rather grandly, a few times with the board in front of me thereby spraying everyone in the vicinity with snow.

Keith was determined to try a real slope and headed for a lift while I spent the rest of the day on the beginner slope working on turning and steering. I was disappointed to never quite get my morning groove back. After falling forward on my knees a few times too many I was relieved to see Keith the bottom of the hill ready to leave.

My quads and ass were already hurting from yesterday’s Bosu Bootcamp, so today only exacerbated that pain. And now my knees are bruised and swollen. I’m exhausted in pain. I even have a headache from all the jarring falls and bright snow. Funny thing is, I can’t wait to go again!!