SPRING BREAK
part two
part two
11th grade
I guess our youth pastor didn't learn anything from the trip in part one because he decided to take us skiing for spring break the next year. So off we went to North Carolina along with the a friend of one of the guys, a dude we nicknamed Killa. We all piled into one of his friend's vacation cabins. So once again, it was the youth pastor and us crammed in a space much too small for that many people.
We hit the slopes bright and early the next morning in our scotchguarded jeans and non-ski jackets. I'm sure we looked just like the people I laugh at now for trying to ski without wearing ski apparel. Lessons be damned, we all hopped on the chair lift and proceeded to stumble and flail our way down the mountain. What fun! Nevermind all the people who crashed trying to get out of our way. There's nothing like beginners flying out of control at 50mph. I guess God really does watch out for fools and babies because we made it through the whole day without injuring ourselves or anyone else (that we know of). The week was fairly uneventful but you know we had to leave with a bang.
On our last day there, we decided to have a snowball fight at the bottom of the mountain. Well, you know what they say - it's always fun until someone gets hurt. This time, that someone was me. I had been nailing our pastor's son pretty good so he decided to exact his revenge. Unbeknowst to me, he rolled up the biggest ICEball (as opposed to SNOWball) that he could. He cocked back, threw a fast pitch and nailed me dead in the face. I clutched my mouth and fell to the snow. As I lay on the snow, whimpering, I noticed people started to freak out. Turns out there was a rapidly spreading pool of blood in the snow. They hustled me off to the medical cabin where it turned out I had nothing more than a severely busted lip. That's not exactly the type of souvenir I wanted to go home with though.
I guess our youth pastor didn't learn anything from the trip in part one because he decided to take us skiing for spring break the next year. So off we went to North Carolina along with the a friend of one of the guys, a dude we nicknamed Killa. We all piled into one of his friend's vacation cabins. So once again, it was the youth pastor and us crammed in a space much too small for that many people.
We hit the slopes bright and early the next morning in our scotchguarded jeans and non-ski jackets. I'm sure we looked just like the people I laugh at now for trying to ski without wearing ski apparel. Lessons be damned, we all hopped on the chair lift and proceeded to stumble and flail our way down the mountain. What fun! Nevermind all the people who crashed trying to get out of our way. There's nothing like beginners flying out of control at 50mph. I guess God really does watch out for fools and babies because we made it through the whole day without injuring ourselves or anyone else (that we know of). The week was fairly uneventful but you know we had to leave with a bang.
On our last day there, we decided to have a snowball fight at the bottom of the mountain. Well, you know what they say - it's always fun until someone gets hurt. This time, that someone was me. I had been nailing our pastor's son pretty good so he decided to exact his revenge. Unbeknowst to me, he rolled up the biggest ICEball (as opposed to SNOWball) that he could. He cocked back, threw a fast pitch and nailed me dead in the face. I clutched my mouth and fell to the snow. As I lay on the snow, whimpering, I noticed people started to freak out. Turns out there was a rapidly spreading pool of blood in the snow. They hustled me off to the medical cabin where it turned out I had nothing more than a severely busted lip. That's not exactly the type of souvenir I wanted to go home with though.
posted by GeckoGirl @ 8:07 AM
