Sore Legs, Frozen Fingers, and a Sunburned Face

It's October now, and that means . . . winter is coming.

Okay, so I've never watched "Game of Thrones."  I'm a frequent-enough visitor of the internet to get many of the references though.

Anyways, winter.  This year I've been having the totally not-normal desire to go snowboarding (not normal for me; totally normal for other people).  The thing is, I have no idea WHY I'm having this desire.  I can probably count on one hand the times I've gone snowboarding in my life.  Skiing is a little bit more, but all of those times happened when I was a little kid.  My skiing memories come down to: complaining about my boots not fitting right, crossing the front of my skiis more than I would like to admit, being cold, thermal underwear, snowveralls (oh, I just came up with a name for those things!), not knowing what to do with my poles, and one distinct memory of my father taking me on a very steep run, where I promptly sat down and scooted my way down the entire hill.  Oh, and being on a ski trip when Sonny Bono skiied into a tree and died.  I'm not sure how real that last memory is though; I have a penchant for fabricating memories.

My snowboarding memories are a bit better, since I was a little bit older and boys were involved.  The first time I ever snowboarded a boy that I had a crush on convinced me to get clip-ons instead of bindings.  Stupid, stupid Spotalotamus.  I spent the majority of that day on the bunny hill trying to get my stupid boots to attach to the stupid snowboard because the stupid ice kept building up on top of the stupid clips and...I have some issues with clip-ons.  Oh, and he also convinced me that I was "goofy" (snowboarding term, not mental capacity).  The next time I went snowboarding was with another boy I had a crush on.  He convinced me to use bindings and that I was "regular" (left foot forward).  This second time was a much better experience, but I kept switching my stance mid-run.  I would start off regular, then feel unsafe and switch to goofy, then feel unsafe again and switch to regular.  Actually, in the...four (?) times that I've gone snowboarding, I've never really figured out if I'm goofy or regular.  What I do know is that I'm slow, I can't toe-grind, and I have a knack for running into little kids (okay, it happened once, and they didn't fall over).

So that is why I am so confused about my sudden interest in snowboarding again.  Maybe it's my almost-never-used snowboarding outfit crying out to me.  Maybe it's the need to get an adrenaline rush since I don't know anyone with horses out here.  Maybe it's that I really like semi-squatting because of kickboxing.  I have no idea.  What I do know is that I am too poor to be a snowboarder right now, the only board I kind of own is at my parents' house the next state over (and it doesn't have bindings), and The Man is way too busy to go snowboarding with me.  Case in point: it's 3pm on a Saturday, and I've seen him for a total of 30 minutes.

I'm probably not going snowboarding this year.  Maybe next year.

The Worst Love Story Ever: Part 2

So where did I leave off?  My oh-so-smooth line?  K.

Turns out that line worked, and the super-cute guy that my friend had a crush on became the super-cute guy that I stole from my friend.  Two weeks after the kiss I convinced him that we needed to start dating by giving him the ultimatum of "either we start dating or we stop kissing."  Romantic, right?  A few weeks after that I started telling him that I loved him (because...I'm like that) and a few weeks after that he finally said, "I think I might be starting to love you too."  Which I decided to interpret as "I love you."  We ended up dating for a few months, and then I left to go back to school and my new man stayed home.

I'm not sure if you've heard this before, but long-distance relationships suck hardcore.  There was an upside of my lip-locking buddy being thousands of miles away though; I got straight A's that semester.  See, when you're depressed nobody wants to hang out with you, and you don't want to hang out with anybody.  You can either get a lot of TV watched or get a lot of work done, and luckily I didn't have Netflix.  After 6 weeks of not seeing him I called him up and told him that he either had to visit me or I'd break up with him because he wasn't serious about the relationship.  And...that worked out spectacularly for me because I lost a boyfriend that night.

The end.

Only you know that it's not because if you're reading this it's almost certain that you know me in real life and you know exactly what happened next.

See, I really liked this short but attractive man.  It wasn't just his impressive facial structure; from the very first time I had hung out with him it just felt...easy.  And right.  My older brother had always been my best friend, and when he left on a two-year mission for our church I had a hole in my heart where my best friend should have been.  The guy I stole replaced that missing portion of my heart.  He was funny, intelligent, kind, and helpful, and he became the best friend that I needed.

And that is why our break-up only lasted like...three days.  A while later we got married, and that guy I stole became The Man.

And he is just the best.
This was a couple of years ago; the only time I got him to do a fauxhawk.

So our love story isn't really as cute as most you hear, and it isn't a story I want my kids to emulate ("oh yeah, Suzy, go ahead and make moves on that boy and make out with him for weeks before committing"), but it's our story.  Oh, the proposal!

Remember that night hike I went on with him?  When I called my friend from The Man's phone?  Well when he proposed he took me back on that hike.  At night.  I knew it was coming, I just didn't know at what point he would get down on his knee.  Turns out it would be at the top of the hill, as I started heading down the other side.  He yanked on the hood of my sweatshirt from behind, and I jerked back a little bit, turned around, and saw him with the ring in his hand.  I can't even remember if he was on his knee or not...probably.  Who really cares though?