-Is it a quantity surveyor?
-Is it a church warden?
...No! It's Bicycle Repair Man!
The reason I hadn't been blogging in awhile before the last post was so not because I was too busy watching sketches from Monty Python's Flying Circus. Ha ha. The more I watch these sketches, the more convinced I am that my father is convinced he is John Cleese.
Anyway, so I was not watching these sketches, right, and after awhile I arose and went into the bathroom, where I was taken aback by my reflection in the mirror. I look a lot better when I'm smiling, when I'm genuinely happy. This came as such a shock to me, possibly because I have so rarely actually seen myself smile.
To further enhance this portrayal of what makes me happy (definetly not Monty Python), I will be forced to drag the euphoria of skiing into it. I don't look forward to skiing. I hate getting up to go skiing, and the moment I sit down in whatever vehicle to go home is a very relaxing moment. I dislike lifts and chalets and ice and crowded trails and stretches that are too flat and stretches that are too steep (although I tell myself that none are this).
And yet. Skiing is a drug, a rush, a high. There is always one moment, or one length of moments, when I am unbelievably happy, coasting down the side of the mountain at what is probably far too great a speed, flying off the powder beneath my feet. A dream. I'm on top of it all, floating over everything. And that is what makes it more than worthwhile.
No more cookies in the jar.
2 comments:
ahaha, i love monty python...and i hate skiing. boo.h
i've never been one for winter sports, or even winter sports in general, but if i did i'm pretty sure i'd get a high off of it too.
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