Last week I did not have a chance to write much on my outline / draft / I'm not sure what it is but it's flowing so I'm rolling with it. This is because I happened to be in Colorado for a ski and snowboarding trip. I had been to Colorado several times, in fact it is one of my favorite states if not my favorites that I have visited thus far. But I had never skied or snowboarded, and everyone suggested I ski. It's easier, they said. You'll have more fun, they said. "They" (whoever they are) were wrong.
But they weren't wrong because I took their advice, but they were wrong because I ignored their advice completely and went with the snowboard for the first day. This was for two reasons: 1) my snowboard was lent to me and thus I did not have to pay for it. I would have to rent skis. And 2) snowboarding is just, there's no other word for it, cool. I wanted to be cool, my boyfriend was there, he's the one who taught me, and he was one of those cool snowboarders.
First day, I did well. I fell on my bottom a lot, but I got the gist of it. Second day, I really conquered all my fears and nailed that sucker; third day, I was sore and tired but flying down that mountain like a pro (not really, but I did completely conquer the greens and ran the blues). It. Was. Amazing.
The only problem is that my rear end and the mountain did not really...get along. They fought the whole trip, it got tiresome. Finally, the second day, they got into a fist fight. The mountain won, and my beat up little booty is now all black and yellow. If that teaches him not to fall anymore, then I'll say lesson learned, and move one.
Point of the story? Colorado is gorgeous. Snowboarding is rad. Writing in new places is inspiring. Snowboarding is too much fun to write. I made no progress. And loved every second of it.
Inspired to write, inspired to not,