Skiing with Logan

Some of my best winter holiday memories are made around New Year’s when my friend Logan and I go up to our condo in Radium.  This leads to the best times because Logan is an individual who has a lot of screws loose, in a good way of course. One memory in which we share is the time that Logan and I went skiing. We haven’t gone skiing much yet he had multiple blunders in those minimal times. One time we were skiing and we were on one of the easy hills because Logan could not be trusted on anything more difficult than that. Logan was behind me the whole time and as I exited the run, I looked behind me and Logan wasn’t there. I waited for about ten minutes until he finally waded out with a bright red face. I don’t know how, but he managed to run into a tree. Let me make it clear that this run was a clear path with trees on the outside which embodied the path. To this day I still don’t know how he managed to hit a tree. As for another skiing mishap Logan has had, he ran into something else. This time instead of running into a tree, he ran into a person. It was his first -and last- time on a run that had a moderate difficulty. It begins on our way up the lift; we are about halfway up when one of his skis falls off into the snow below. I could tell already that this wasn’t going to be fun. By the time we got to his fallen ski, all that was left of the run was a steep hill. This hill I was dreading from the very beginning because even though I tried to teach Logan how to go down hills, I don’t think he remembered that all too well. Well it spiralled into chaos right away as he went straight down the hill without slowing down. It was almost impressed with how straight he went down that hill, what wasn’t impressive though is that he ran straight into someone. Dislodging his skis on impact and plummeting head first into the snow. I probably shouldn’t have laughed but it’s not every day that Logan does something stupid, on skis that is.

Forks

Ah, forks. A magical eating utensil, which is one prong up on the oh so famed trident. Forks hold a dear spot in my heart. Mainly because of their unique method of picking up food. Some may think that forks are just like any other eating utensil, but they aren’t. They are more than just that, they are the alphas of eating utensils. There are none like them and there will never be anything quite like them. Sporks, unlike forks, are just an incestuous mix of spoons and forks and while they inhibit the good qualities of forks, they exert plenty dreadful qualities of spoons. I’m not even going to sugar coat it, spoons are just awful. When’s the last time that someone had a spoon at a formal event? Can you not remember? Exactly, they were never there to begin with because they suck. You’re probably thinking to yourself that you’ve seen them there for soups. Well I’m sorry to say that if you saw them there, you were actually at a funeral. Forks have many places named after them whereas spoons do not. This is because of how well liked forks are, there isn’t a soul in the world who has a bad thing to say about forks. If you do have a bad thing to say about forks however, then obviously you have no soul. Since forks have the best method and design for picking up an assortment of foods, there is no doubt that every household has at least one of these divine creations. With their wide variety of usages, practically everyone has been in dire need of a fork. You too, have probably required the assistance of a fork at least once in your lifetime. I say with absolute certainty that forks is the prime eating utensil of saints and kings and gods. God bless forks.

One of Those Thousands of Nights Spent Laughing 'Til the Break of Dawn

So, one night, sometime in the start of this very school year, I had literally just set down my set of weights from working out one Tuesday well after school was let out, I got this call from a great friend of mine named Tory. Normally, Tory and I talk on ends on even the most unenergetic of days, so of course, there wasn’t anything too suspicious I had thought of when I scooped up my vibrating phone from the floor. We said “hey,” — or at least, I did, — before Tory starts rambling on, on the other side of the phone, literally about, “Oh my God! Sean! You have to see this, if you can!” After laughing at myself about the situation I was most likely getting myself into here, I asked what was so incredibly important that she had to call mid-way through my last few reps. She asked me to get off my lazy posterior, and get to the nearest screen, because I “just had” to see this music video. I rolled my eyes, and just mumbled, “Fine. Hang on a sec.” as I clanged around, dropping and sorting both the 60lbs. weights back into their correct spaces, before I lugged myself upstairs. I plopped myself down on the chair in our office, still having my phone wedged between my shoulder and ear, asking Tory, “Okay, fine. I’m here! What’s the video?” It took about five seconds to realize that this was going to be one of those nights were Tory asked me to search about an average guess of, let’s say, two hundred or so music videos. To give you an idea of just exactly how this night went, the first video Tory urged me to watch was “It’s Rainin’ Men” by “The Weather Girls.” And after I just about busted my guts laughing to the point where I might’ve just matched up with that one specific emoji, I eventually told her, “Alright, alright. Maybe we should just watch the Weather Girls, then.” But of course, what would the night be if Tory allowed something like that?

A Memorable Camping Trip

The best camping trip that I’ve gone on would have to be the school trip this year in which we went out to a campground. We set up tents in the campground, using proficient teamwork instead of an instruction manual. On this trip there were fun and unique activities presented to us. One of which being a high ropes course where you would be strapped to a wire and would have to make it through daring obstacles while high up off of the ground. The obstacles varied from ropes with only a foothold to a log holstered in between two platforms. There was also a trust fall, where someone would climb a twenty-five foot tall pole while a team of people would be supporting him through ropes. The point of this was for the individual on the pole to trust the people with the ropes. Along with this on the first day was a hike on Mount Yamnuska. After getting back from the hike we had to set up our own tents in an open campground. This was an arduous task for those who had never been camping before. That night we gathered around a campfire and roasted marshmallows under the starry sky. The fire crackled and danced on the wood, slowly charring it until it was crispy and black in colour. On the second day we adventured out to a facility which had many recreational activities for us to do. With swimming, rock climbing, and working out being given to us as options it was a difficult choice to only go rock climbing. In the morning when we first got to the facility, we were greeted kindly by one of their facilitators. For the first half of our time there at the facility. Tory and I sort of wandered over to the singly-placed, obviously new-to-the-town Good Earth wedged in the corner of the main floor that everyone was pretty much just sitting around in, and looked over towards their glassed selections. A fresh, moist, chocolaty-looking enough muffin managed to grab my attention, and Tory’s taste sort of lingered over towards an over-filled vegetable sandwich of some kind. It’s a very Tory-like item for her to purchase, I guess. She’s all for her uniquely healthy taste, so no wonder it grabbed her focus. Now another highlight of this camping trip would have to be when Riley and I finally got to go rock climbing. It was right after lunch and a bunch of us were on our way back from Boston Pizza, where we had completely stuffed our faces with food to the point that each and every one of us had gained a pound or two. And finally, I guess one of the last memories that I think is worth remembering would be the bonfires held on each night. I could say, without any regret whatsoever, that memories were definitely “made” at those points in the woods-surrounded night.