just call me Cinderella

If you are eating, and you are "sensitive", I would wait until you finish to read this.

Another great day of skiing with some work thrown in this morning and evening...it was in the 40s on the mountain today, and hardly anyone was there, which was nice.

The morning started out kind of rough since I had left my boots in my car overnight. I had an epic struggle getting them on my feet. In fact, I almost gave up on getting the right boot situated. Since the plastic was stiff and my foot was swollen from skiing yesterday I was having major problems.

I skied for about 4 hours and the pain in my feet kept getting worse and worse. I finally stopped and went into the lodge to take my boots off because the shooting pain in the front of my left foot was so bad I could barely tolerate it. Something was oozing out of my left big toe and my sock was all wet. I pulled the sock off quickly to see what was leaking from my foot and inadvertently ripped half my toe nail off. It had broken in my boot and was bleeding and leaking some kind of yellow substance. Gross. Trin, what the fuck is wrong with my toe (email me the answer when you get a chance - I noticed after skiing yesterday that the broken half of my toe nail was purple and green - do you want me to send you a picture)? I also saw that my right big toe nail is split down the middle too, I think from pressing against my boot for so long. I hope it doesn't fall off in the hot tub.

So I wedged my feet back into my boots and went to the surefoot store. As I was walking in I saw their little banner "the most comfortable ski boots made" and thought about how Jeffy said his boots feel like bedroom slippers. I was like WHATEVER.

It turns out my boot was sized wrong, so I had to get a bigger size and then had to get my bindings redone again (they did it at surefoot this time instead of me having to traipse around to find someone to do it). I felt kind of bad that those guys were stuck with my old boot shells that they won't be able to resell (I had decorated them with little hardcandy skulls). But my feet felt so much better, I guess I really don't care. I skied three days in those stupid boots and kept taking them back saying they were too small. A size too small it turns out.

A weird side note: the guy who did my boots this time told me that my feet are too small for my height and that might be why I'm so uncoordinated (this said after the loose end of velcro on my left pant leg got stuck to the front of my right ski pant leg, causing me to trip and knock over a cardboard replica of some ski guy that was in the middle of the store). For my height my feet should be at least one size larger. He claims. Hm.

Tomorrow I’m taking a private ski lesson. That should be good for a few laughs. And I’m supposed to go for a drink with the guy who signed me up for the ski lesson afterwards. He invited me because he said he thought I was funny. I wonder if he will still think I’m funny when I show up tomorrow, as promised, without washing my hair and wearing the same clothes I’ve been wearing the past 3 days (at day 4 sweaty ski clothes start to smell really nice).

I haven’t washed my hair for over a week. When the ski lesson guy asked if I was going to wash my hair (he also suggested combing it) for my lesson tomorrow I told him "There's a time for washing and combing one's hair. Winter is not that time." So if you hear any ski guides from Copper say that, they stole the line from me.