The Slopes

Lauren Malvica

March 14th
Dear Diary,
So as you can probably already tell, I survived the sky diving expedition that I was forced into. This week I’m trying yet another “new excitement” as the girls would call it, skiing. We just arrived at the hotel Hunter Mountain and I have to tell you, I am the least anxious to hit the slopes which is basically why I’m writing to you, trying to avoid any contact with the six people staring at me, to procrastinate my untimely death on the bunny slope. Yeah so I may be exaggerating a bit but whatever, I am terrified. I hate trying “new things” which I could have killed my mother for even offering her opinion when I had the girls over trying to decide how we were going to end off the winter. How come when I need my mother to tell Mark, when he calls the house and I’m home, that I am actually not home, she hands me the phone and when I need her to tell me I am not allowed to go skiing she tells me I should try something new? She never says the right things when I need her too. So anyway here I am about to bury myself under layers of clothing which are going to be a bitch to get off later especially since they are going to be soaked which is going to make it harder for me to get out of. Gabby just called me lazy and told me to “get off the couch and get your ass in your ski gear or we are gonna leave you here”. I’m just going to ignore her because personally I don’t give a shit if they leave me here, I want them too. I thought they’d get the point since I’m sitting her still in my jeans and sweatshirt writing to you. Now none of them will leave me alone. I’ll have to get back to you.
Love, Cookie

March 14th
Dear Diary,
So it’s officially been an hour and I gave up. We went down to the lodge and were sitting at one of the table waiting for our ski’s when the bartender turned the T.V. on and there it was, my sign to NOT SKI EVER. Natasha Richardson, brain dead after skiing incident. That’s all I had to see in order for me to trot my ass up the stairs, spend a half hour getting out of the un used, expensive gear that I bought at Sports Authority, and fill you in on the gossip. Oh, and NOT ski. My mother just called me and yelled at me for even thinking this was a good idea. Me? She’s the one who opened her big mouth and practically offered my life in exchange for a little “new experience”. My friends are taking their skiing lessons anyway but as for me, I trip over my own two feet and there is no way I am getting on a slippery slope ever in my life. That’s just a death waiting to happen. I can see the girls from my window, or at least I think it’s them. I’m all alone and pretty bored sitting here in the room with nothing to do but confide and talk gossip to something that can’t even talk back to me. I think I’ll go down to the bar and talk to that really cute, really tall, gorgeous bartender that was giving me the eye before. So until my next adventure in life...

Love, Cookie