my new trick

I am an old dog, but I can still learn to roll over for a treat.

Or a seriously discounted snowboard.

It was the end of August when my mom sent me this text: "Do you have any interest in learning to snowboard? There's a woman at work who is selling one for $150. It was only used once and the boots are your size."

I was still wearing flip-flops at this point, so I wasn't really thinking about freezing my fingers off on the mountain, but I told her I'd buy it and resell it if I suck. [I found out later that the con-woman had already bought the board, but wasn't going to tell me until I agreed to cough up the $150.]

I am a moderately competent skier and have been skiing for most of my life, so when I took my snowboard to Hidden Valley this weekend, I had forgotten how demoralizing it is to learn. I was on my face at least 15 times on the first run. At one point, I was laying with my face in the snow, with the wind knocked out of me, unsure if my left arm was still connected to the left side of my body...

...and I was laughing so hard that there were frozen tears sticking to my face. It was so exciting for me to be completely defeated. And cold. And wet. And in pain.

Aristotle said: we cannot learn without pain.

So, I must have been learning a lot. [I was learning yesterday too, and still must be learning today!]

Every run was a little bit better, and by the end of the night I could make it down the big kid slope without falling. I'll be keeping the board.

By the way, I learned that Burton Snowboards are among the best you can buy. And, that the entire package (board, boots, bindings) can go for anything between $500 and $1000+. I got a serious discount. I really gotta learn to roll over.

my funny valentine

Alright, all you single ladies. I'm going to need you to put your hands down for just a minute.

Take one hand and put it around your favorite pint of the tastiest hippies in Vermont, while your free hand tunes your iPOD to the national anthem of the People's Republic of Single.

That's right. It's Saint Valentine's Day.

I have had 23 years to perfect the art of being a single person on February 14th. I've loathed it, been disgusted by it, and ignored it completely. In some of my finest moments, I've renamed it "vomit day." Year-after-year, I would dread its coming, and year-after-bloody-year it would arrive with its over-priced flowers and hideous winged baby.

This year, I decided not to let the day get the best of me. I don't need a ring or a different Facebook status to love and appreciate the fact that I. am. loved.

This February 14 I...

...finished the final 150 pages of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which is quite the accomplishment if you ask me. Never mind the fact that millions of 5th graders have read these books, eight hundred pages is MASSIVE.

...cleaned the shack from top to bottom.

...danced barefoot to Love Song For No One. [Some traditions are too fun to abandon.]

...got dressed up [which really made me wonder what, exactly, all of you y-chromosomed fools are looking for] and went to the symphony with my grandparents and one of my favorite Genevans.


It was a good day. I'm glad I finally allowed myself to enjoy it. I hope you did, too.

I love you!



Oh, and you can go ahead and put those hands back up. Woah oh ohhh...