I went three weeks ago. I fell on my face five times, not once did I roll, so I did rather well. I went down some "Black Diamond" courses. I doubt they were real Black diamonds, since there were only a couple lumps resembling moguls and considering that I didn't have a rough time on any of them.
I didn't know about the trip until the night before, in a "pub" with some buddies.
Josh gets a phone call from friend Grant, asking if we wanted to go skiing. We finish our beers, go home and start packing, get up at six, onto the subway, and we're on a bus off to someplace in Korea that has mountains and skiing on those mountains. Grant didn't come because he had diarrhea.
The snow is melted away, Spring will bring smog and my parents for 10 days, and I may start running soon. I joined a gym this morning, I've been sedentary my entire five month stay. Time to move.
Philosophical ponderings and wanderings that gravitate toward arts, cultures, and current events
