I am an understanding person, most of the time. I do not mind if someone would like to burp out loud, wear funny clothes, or even pick their nose. But, when someone scrapes their shoes along the sidewalk as they travel from place to place, or refuses to fill up an empty or partially empty ice tray, I go insane!
The searing pain that the scraping shoes bring to my ears is like the scratching of fingernails on a chalkboard. It is extremely irritating! People must be lazy because they cannot simply lift their feet a few millimeters to keep their shoes from scraping the ground. If I could get people to stop this asinine habit, it will not only benefit me, but it will help them as well. Not only will they begin their process of not being annoying anymore, but their shoes will last longer.
My other issue is with people that refuse to fill the ice trays after ice has been used. This is laziness in its purest form! It literally only takes five seconds to walk to the sink and fill the empty tray with water. If this simple task is completed, then next time they or someone else wants to quench their thirst with an ice-cold beverage, they can. I hate when I am craving an ice-cold drink and when I pull out the tray I discover that it is empty! Contempt fills my heart as I drink only semi-cold water.
Like I said before, I am an understanding person, but if a person crosses me with either of these two pet peeves, neither they nor I will be happy.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
it's not winter, but that's not going to stop me from writing about skiing
I haven't posted anything in a while, so here's a paper I wrote for my English class. Hopefully I get a good grade on it.
The Crash
One of the greatest sports around is snow skiing. My dad taught my siblings and I how to ski when we were eight years old. Even today, my dad continues to teach and give me advice about skiing. He has been involved in this sport for years and does not want me to make the same ridiculous mistakes he has made while skiing. I have learned that when it comes to skiing, I must listen to the advice my dad has given me.
One memorable winter season, I had the opportunity to go skiing at Jackson Hole Ski Resort. This time I was not with my dad, but rather with a former boyfriend, Chris. We were having an incredible day together. The snow was not the greatest; rather, it was packed snow, but this meant it was easier to ski extremely fast.
Because I am an adventurous person, I yearn to ski fast. I had long passed Chris down the slope and loved the thrill of the wind cutting against my cheeks as I skied as fast as I could. As I was racing along, the words from my dad came to mind, “If you don’t know a run, don’t ski fast down it.” I did not know the ski runs of Jackson Hole at all, but I desperately wanted to feel the adrenalin rushing through my veins as my speed increased. I felt confident with my skiing and refused to slow down.
As I was making fast carved-turns down a particular run, I came to a hill that sloped down, flattened to a plateau for a few yards, and then descended to a decently steep hill. This type of change in slope made for a perfect jump if a person is traveling fast enough. I came to this part of the run and it caught me off guard as I sailed through the air about a foot off the ground. I was very grateful that I landed it. Then, unbeknownst to me, the run repeated this same change in slope nearly immediately after I had landed my first jump. I was too proud to slow down, nor did I have the time to do so. I launched myself off the jump and the next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air once again. This time I was a couple feet higher off the ground, not to mention, I did not take off quite as well as the first time. I began to tilt to the left as I was soaring through the air. I gripped my poles hard and had the time to think in my head, “This is going to hurt!” Suddenly, I hit the hard packed snow like a ton of bricks. First my left leg, then my shoulder slammed into the ground, and finally my head rebounded against the cement-like snow. I tumbled and somersaulted for a few yards, creating a “yard-sale” crash. My skis, poles, goggles, and hat were strewn across the run as though they were for sale. I finally stopped sliding down the mountain. I was stunned and had a hard time catching my breath.
I lay in the snow for what seemed like hours, but in reality, just a few minutes. My head and left knee ached from all the banging and tumbling. Finally Chris showed up. I did not move for the next several minutes. The ski patrol saw that I had clearly crashed and advised me with the warning, “You better try and move to the side because some idiots ski down this hill pretty fast and they could run into you.” I tried to contain my laughter as I thought, “I’m one of those idiots!” Chris and I gathered my equipment and I moved to the side of the run. I decided after a number of minutes that I was ready to cautiously ski down the mountain. I was feeling good for the first five minutes, when suddenly, my left knee began to feel as though it were being twisted and contorted with every turn. I did not want to stop skiing because I was so close to the bottom of the run. I then began to feel nauseas and the only thing I wanted to do was throw up, luckily, I made it to the lodge with no problems besides limping extremely slow. Sadly, I was done skiing for the day.
I had not listened to my dad’s advice. Because of this, my ski day at Jackson Hole was over, just half way through the day. Also, the rest of the winter 2005 ski season was done and over with for me, even though there were some great ski days left. I had chosen to ignore the wise insight from my dad, which caused me to have a terrible day and ski season.
The Crash
One of the greatest sports around is snow skiing. My dad taught my siblings and I how to ski when we were eight years old. Even today, my dad continues to teach and give me advice about skiing. He has been involved in this sport for years and does not want me to make the same ridiculous mistakes he has made while skiing. I have learned that when it comes to skiing, I must listen to the advice my dad has given me.
One memorable winter season, I had the opportunity to go skiing at Jackson Hole Ski Resort. This time I was not with my dad, but rather with a former boyfriend, Chris. We were having an incredible day together. The snow was not the greatest; rather, it was packed snow, but this meant it was easier to ski extremely fast.
Because I am an adventurous person, I yearn to ski fast. I had long passed Chris down the slope and loved the thrill of the wind cutting against my cheeks as I skied as fast as I could. As I was racing along, the words from my dad came to mind, “If you don’t know a run, don’t ski fast down it.” I did not know the ski runs of Jackson Hole at all, but I desperately wanted to feel the adrenalin rushing through my veins as my speed increased. I felt confident with my skiing and refused to slow down.
As I was making fast carved-turns down a particular run, I came to a hill that sloped down, flattened to a plateau for a few yards, and then descended to a decently steep hill. This type of change in slope made for a perfect jump if a person is traveling fast enough. I came to this part of the run and it caught me off guard as I sailed through the air about a foot off the ground. I was very grateful that I landed it. Then, unbeknownst to me, the run repeated this same change in slope nearly immediately after I had landed my first jump. I was too proud to slow down, nor did I have the time to do so. I launched myself off the jump and the next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air once again. This time I was a couple feet higher off the ground, not to mention, I did not take off quite as well as the first time. I began to tilt to the left as I was soaring through the air. I gripped my poles hard and had the time to think in my head, “This is going to hurt!” Suddenly, I hit the hard packed snow like a ton of bricks. First my left leg, then my shoulder slammed into the ground, and finally my head rebounded against the cement-like snow. I tumbled and somersaulted for a few yards, creating a “yard-sale” crash. My skis, poles, goggles, and hat were strewn across the run as though they were for sale. I finally stopped sliding down the mountain. I was stunned and had a hard time catching my breath.
I lay in the snow for what seemed like hours, but in reality, just a few minutes. My head and left knee ached from all the banging and tumbling. Finally Chris showed up. I did not move for the next several minutes. The ski patrol saw that I had clearly crashed and advised me with the warning, “You better try and move to the side because some idiots ski down this hill pretty fast and they could run into you.” I tried to contain my laughter as I thought, “I’m one of those idiots!” Chris and I gathered my equipment and I moved to the side of the run. I decided after a number of minutes that I was ready to cautiously ski down the mountain. I was feeling good for the first five minutes, when suddenly, my left knee began to feel as though it were being twisted and contorted with every turn. I did not want to stop skiing because I was so close to the bottom of the run. I then began to feel nauseas and the only thing I wanted to do was throw up, luckily, I made it to the lodge with no problems besides limping extremely slow. Sadly, I was done skiing for the day.
I had not listened to my dad’s advice. Because of this, my ski day at Jackson Hole was over, just half way through the day. Also, the rest of the winter 2005 ski season was done and over with for me, even though there were some great ski days left. I had chosen to ignore the wise insight from my dad, which caused me to have a terrible day and ski season.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)