Skiing Story II

(If you haven’t read part I, you should probably scroll one post down and read it first. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

So like I was saying.

The skiing story from hell didn’t stop after that near-death experience.

The awesome designers of the slopes decided that they would make just one ski lift for 3 hills. Here is a visual to aid in the story:




So basically, we ride the chair lift back up to the top of the hill. Sarah (My sister) instructs me to go toward the right, so that we can go down an easier slope.

She, being the gracious and loving sister that she is (read: murderer that she is), allowed me to go first again. How kind.

So I veer to the right. I am all proud that I have cut across the mountain.

I am zigzagging all down the slope.

WEEEEE!!!

Oh $@!!$#!@!!!!!

I realize that I didn’t cut across the mountain far enough. As you can see from the picture above, hill two intersects back with hill one.

And then, I am filled with dread. I am headed back toward the black diamond.

My sister is behind me and notices my mistake. But I guess I can’t call her a total murderer, because she did follow me down the black diamond as well to make sure I didn’t break all ankles, knees, ribs, elbows, and shoulders of my body.

Soon, I am speeding just as fast as I was the last time!!!!

Holy crap!

The frantic praying begins again: JESUS! SAVE ME! OH MY GOODNESS! I CAN’T STOP! IIII CAAANNNTTTT STOOOOOPPPPP! I’M GOING TO BREAK MY LEGS! AHHHHHH!!! GOD PLEASE HELP ME! DO YOU HEAR ME? HELP ME! PPPPLLLEEEEASSEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Praise the Lord that He heard me. This time? I didn’t even crash at the bottom! Woo hoo!!!!!!

Sarah reaches me and in the midst of tears from laughing so hard says: “Why didn’t you go to the right?????”

I stare at her incredulously.

“I DID go RIGHT. You didn’t tell me HOW far right to go!”

So? You guessed it.

Up the frickin ski lift again.

This time? I am ADAMANT I am going to go all the way right to hill #3.

So, down we go again.

And I make it all the way right, alright.

All the way right, straight into a HUGE flow of ski traffic! I was screaming: “Get out of the way! I can’t stop! I’m coming right toward you!”

Expert 4-year old skiers look back with fear and panic as a huge white marshmallow flies toward them. Stupid expert 4 year old skiers.

Then? BAM! I crash into a HUGE, MONSTROUS mogul.

My skiis go flying and one of them smacks me straight on the forehead.

Simultaneously I hear a group of 10 guys yell “OOOWWWHHAAAHHHHHHH! That musta hurt! IS she OK? Hahahahahah!!!!!!!”

One of them was nice enough to come pick me and my disintegrated pride off the ground.

Here comes Sarah again, laughing her face off. Thanks Sarah, you’re a real help.

She tried to console me by telling me a story about her friend who went racing down a hill so fast she crashed into a tree. She had braces at the time and had to pick tree bark out of her braces for the next 2 days.

Well, I guess that made me feel a little better.

Not much. She still tried to kill me on 3 different occasions.

So maybe I don’t long that much for snow. Maybe summer can stay a little longer. Even if it is hot as crap outside.

Because people? I can NOT have another humiliating experience like that on the slopes again.

Dentist=Devil

Today I had a dentist appointment.

It was just wonderful and lovely (Read: it was torture like I’ve never known before).

When I first arrived, the receptionist greeted me warmly. AND since the appointment WAS at like 8 in the morning, I of course, greeted her warmly back (read: spoke in my man voice in monotone).

Then, they escort me back to the dentist. He is all sorts of cheeriness and talking about how much he loves his job and coming to work in the morning.

This does not make me feel better.

And although my dentist APPEARS to be a gentle, kind old man, I know this to be a lie.

The pain and suffering he put me through makes me think he is quite possibly the devil in disguise.

First, they tell me I have to get a freaking crown on my teeth. How did this happen? I have no idea.

So…what do they do? Shoot me up with some freaking needles.

I, like the rational 25 year old I am, start BAWLING my eyes out. This is totally normal.

He is very concerned.

And I just have to explain that I am a bit mentally insane and therefore still cry when I get shots.

When he is done implementing that torture device he called a ‘numbing needle’, he says: well, are you ready for the crown?

“What do you think, old dude? DO I LOOK READY FOR YOU TO PRACTICALLY KILL ME TODAY????” I said in my angriest voice.

ORRRR maybe I just smiled politely and shook my head, ‘yes’.

But, in my alternate universe where I say all of my thoughts, that is what I said.

So then, he decides to put that freaking cap onto my tooth. Great. Just freaking great.

He gets his dental hygienist to come in.

She too acts friendly. She too is a dirty little liar. What she does is not friendly. I am beginning to think that the two of them are here together just to end my life.

I say my final prayers.

And it gets worse.

The dentist holds my jaw open so wide I am positive it will crack at any moment. In the meantime, I am so numb my tongue starts to slip out of my mouth and drip drool right down my chin (I know, I am so sexy!)

So what does she do? Try to hold my tongue still with some sort of miniature medieval-looking joust.

While she’s doing that? I feel my tongue choking me! I am screaming “Oh my goodness! I can’t breathe! I CAN’T BREATHE!!!!!!!!” (and by screaming, I mean I am sitting quietly thinking to myself that I guess these are my last moments and I just am going to die here in the dentist’s chair. I hope Brandon knows I love him.)

This reminds me of a time in college.

I was sitting in my abnormal psychology class.

All of a sudden, my eyes go black. I look to my friend, Olivia and say:

“I can’t see!”

You can’t see?

“I can’t breathe!”

You can’t breathe??

The professor thought I was having a panic attack. I was not. I am just a lunatic.

I digress.

Where was I? Oh yea, the devil dentist dressed like a sweet old man.

So after I survive my near death experience, they pull and tug and press until I again think my jaw will break in half any second and I will have to file a lawsuit against this man and his hygienist.

But alas, they finally get the cap on.

Now, I am finally home. Sitting on the couch. Drooling all over myself. While the dog sniffs my lips because she cannot figure out what is wrong with me.

Go away dog.

I am in a bad mood.

I almost lost my life today.