Lobby Bar....Right In The Lobby

Tomorrow night, we're going to Colorado Springs, and then Copper Mountain, Colorado, to visit a bunch of people and "go skiing." I use that term loosely because while everyone else is skiing, I will be bellied up to the bar in the ski lodge, seeing if I can make some new friends. The only skiing I'll be doing is if I happen to meet a couple of good-looking dudes in the hot tub. (Hmmmm...was that homo-erotic joke taken too far? Judges? Yep, too far.) What I meant to say is: the only skiing I'll be doing is if I get bored in the bar and I go buy a lift ticket and rent some skis and glide down the big mountain with all the snow on it.

Normally I'm all about doing different things, trying new stuff, yada yada yada; but I figure that I haven't been skiing since D-Day (Discovery Day? Was that what it was called?) in 8th grade, and I wasn't very good then, so I'm sure as hell not gonna be any good now. Skiing isn't like riding a bike. I'm not about to venture out there now, at age 26, and hang out all day on the bunny hills with a bunch of kids rocking braces, pimples, and Denver Broncos Starter jackets- kids who get a boner every time a girl's shirt shifts and they can see her bra strap (OK, OK, you got me....that last one is really about me.)


Quit showing off, you little bastard. Hey- guess what? Santa isn't real. Yeah, true story. All those presents under the tree? They're from your fucking parents, brosef. Wrap your tiny little brain around that. Nice helmet, too, what are you skiing for the Michigan Wolverines or something? Fuck this, I'm going back inside and getting a beer. Skiing sucks anyway.


So when we were first planning the trip, I was pretty jazzed up to get my Lloyd Christmas on (sitting in the ski lodge bar, boozing by myself all day-- "Why would she have you meet her in a bar at 10 in the morning?" --- "I just figured she was a raging alcoholic!") but now it appears I will have some company. Sara is driving down from Fort Collins and she, too, would rather drink like a champ than ski like a chump. Plus some of Sweeney's friends may not ski either, but I haven't met them yet, so I'm not counting them because meeting people outside my immediate friend group frightens me...I may not even sit at the same table as them.

I'm also excited to have Sweeney, Chelsey, Smerud and I reunited for the first time since....we drove to Bemidji in January 2004? Has it been that long? Could get rowdy, I might have to bring the Magic Red Suitcase. Bippity boppity, give me the zoppity.