A month or so ago my GF pleaded to travel abroad about this time of the year for skiing, I told her we couldn’t because I was going to be busy with a job which involved going to China for several days to supervise the shooting of a commercial.
It turned out part of the commercial is shot in an indoor ski site, turns out the one day (today) that goes on I’ve had pretty much nothing to do, so the clients told me if I’d like to spent the time skiing instead of just waiting around for my part…
Indoor skiing is to skiing like Tofurkey is to Thanksgiving dinner. It’s a reasonable facsimile if you don’t look to closely or have to do so for any extended period of time.
Since irony is mentioned right in the thread title, I’m going to point out that, upon enjoyment of GF-less skiing without intent to fess up, a broken leg is almost guaranteed.
Assignments like this are dreadful, hanging around for ages until called in for advice. Today we started at 6 AM and just finished at midnight, all in all I guess I did 30 minutes of actual work around 9 AM.
They could had offered as an alternative to that tedium wrestling wildcats in a fire ant pit and I would had jumped in.
Besides, never skiied indoors so at least there was the novelty factor.
Already told her, she was happy for me., because she is the loveliest and bestest GF evah, and I’m not saying that just because I received a rolling pin emoji as a response.
No, really, she was happy about it.
After all, open, honest communication is very important in a relationship, so we have an unspoken agreement between us, I always tell her everything and in turn she always tells everyone else what I said.
When getting in the van to go to the hotel, lifting my bacpack over the seat to put it on the back seat I had one of those I-don’t-how-but-something-broke injuries, sprained muscle on top of my shoulder or something, hurts like the dickens now.
I should mention that it was at least six years since I last skkied (being at novice level even then), so I was pretty pleased with myself on doing well, no falls or injuries, just a few hours of merrily weeeing down the slope… and then getting in the blipping van did me in.
If I could I’d shake my fist in the general direction of Fate.
This reminds me of a forum I read called “When you know the honeymoon’s over.” One guy said that when he and his wife are about to make a decision, they debate for hours, consider every possible angle, and ultimately do what she wanted to do in the first place.
