"I Am Two With Nature"

Woody Allen said that. He grosses me out, but what can I say? The quote speaks to me. We're headed to the Sierra Nevadas for a long weekend, so what I should really say is, "I am two with snow."

Humiliating Snow Experience #1. Long ago, in a galaxy far away, I moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, with my then-boyfriend, now-husband. I had lived my whole life in the Bay Area and owned no snow-appropriate outerwear. I had no hat. Even if I did have a hat, the chances of my donning it were slim, for I am not a "hat person." I had no snow boots. But none of this stopped me from attempting to return a video to the video store three blocks away. I stepped out of our apartment building and immediately slipped on the brick pavement. Slipped right on my ass all Looney Tunes cartoon-like. It hurt like a mo-fo. I stood up and limped back into the lobby. I stared through the glass at the beautiful snow-covered street with its beautiful snow-covered trees and took a deep breath. I opened the door and stepped out of the apartment building again. I slipped again. I repeated this sad little scenario twice more before returning to our apartment, crawling into bed, and weeping.

Humiliating Snow Experience #2. Age: 25. First time skiing. I was kicking some butt on the bunny hill, people. All the five-year-olds were impressed with me. So was my husband (do you see this? do you see how he figures into both of these humiliating snow experiences?). So much so that he convinced me I was ready to tackle an actual mountain. We took the ski lift halfway to heaven. I stood at the top of the mountain, stared down and began to curse delicately beneath my frozen breath. I voiced my concerns to my husband, who immediately pointed to the losers who were walking down the side of the mountain. He said, "You don't want to be like them, do you?" In fact, I did. But I kept this to myself and proceeded to make the best of my situation. In the thirty-five minutes (that's not a typo; that's a fact) it took me to get to the bottom of the mountain, I ended up face-down five times. During one of these times, a man flying by on his skis yelled, "That's a great sweater!" I lifted my face out of the snow and managed a weak, "Thank you..."

Humiliating Snow Experience #3. My third humiliating snow experience is sure to happen this weekend and will likely involve a sled of some sort. I will not be wearing a hat. But I do have snow boots. I'll let you know how it goes.

This post was for my friend Paul, who sent me an evil e-mail complaining about what he perceives as yawning gaps between entries.