I’ve come to the conclusion that I look in mirrors way less than the average person. This may come to you as a surprise, especially given my supermodel career path. Regardless, even if I did look in mirrors often, more snowflakes have been in front of my eyes in the past week than number of occasions on which I’ve seen myself…in front of…myself. By about 1,000,000,000,000,000 times.
There is SO much snow in Tahoe. It seems to finally be letting up in an attempt to appease me, since I was yelling at it, forcefully, from the window of my friend Abe’s 4Runner on our way to the trailhead yesterday. I said “SNOW, I DEMAND THEE TO EITHER FALL SO MUCH WE WILL ONLY SKI OVERHEAD BLOWER COLD SMOKE FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES, OR HALT THYSELF IMMEDIATELY AND ALLOW MY COMRADES AND I TO ASCEND THE MOUNTAIN THAT I AM HERE TO CLIMB AND SKI! UNTIL NEXT TIME, GTG BRB AND LOLZ, ROTFL, UR FRENND, BRODY”
With good fortune on my side, the snowfall stopped. If I’m lucky, I will even be able to find a ride from Tahoe back to Salt Lake (most drivers have chosen the safer, sane route of NOT driving 10 hours, minding the current conditions).
The phone is ringing incessantly. And, once again, I’m sleeping at someone’s house and shouldn’t answer their phone. But I really, really want it to stop ringing.
Considering I sleep around, in the truest sense of the words, I have been doing quite well with my bedding situation. Okay, actually that isn’t true at all, provided the pictures of my recent beds I shared a few days ago. But I’m typing this from the most comfortable (and, actually, FIRST) bed I can remember sleeping in the confines of in a very, very long time, and that is all I can think about right now.
So I’ll consider myself having done well as of recently, even though that’s a complete and utter lie. I suppose I’ve slept in 20ish different locations in the 2 months I’ve been back in the country.
I got caught and carried (and soiled) by a wet slide yesterday. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me at all. I think that I actually did the soiling of myself by…myself. Regardless, it was scary to be caught in an avalanche when I knew that, um, I didn’t want to be caught in an avalanche. At all. Luckily, I was able to regain footing and ski out of it as it exited the couloir’s choke and slowed down to a menacing 59 miles her hour. The GoPro footage is slightly horrifying. I’m sure it’ll end up in a I-survived-skiing-Tahoe-during-the-storm-of-the-century edit quite soon.