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ABOUT ME

About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

I kind of thought I looked hot on my back

Chuck’s best friend: Hey, know what’d be cool? A ski weekend.

Chuck: Plan it. We’re there.

Chuck’s best friend: Why is Mrs. Mullet holding herself and whimpering in the corner?

Mrs. Mullet: Sit down, Chuck’s best friend, and let me tell you a story….

When I was a sophomore in high school, one of my good friends was Karen. Karen was beautiful and mean, which means that only the aesthetically elite had the balls to approach her for a date. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that her attitude and looks incited a lot of jealousy. When a field hockey puck knocked out her front tooth during gym class, girls—and some female teachers—raced to see it, hoping to catch a glimpse of Karen in all her beastliness.

Do you know that that bitch still looked good? She just looked like a hot chick who was missing a tooth. And she knew it. If you can still make the basketball team drool with a gaping black hole in your mouth, you pretty much walk on water.

Oh, how I hated her.

Chuck’s best friend: What does this have to do with skiing?

Mrs. Mullet: Shut it, buttlick. This is my blog. Ahem…

When Karen invited two other friends, Tricia and Liz, and me on a weekend ski trip, I said yes. I had concerns that they were better skiers than I, but Karen assured me we were all at the same level.

We started off on a Green Dot trail to warm up, but it soon became apparent that Karen, Tricia and Liz were mere steps away from the Olympics. (The back flips, tail grabs and 180s kind of gave it away.) Like savvy hunters they were ready to attack and kill the mountain; like a cowering piece of shit, I was ready for a plastic fork and salad bar.

Still, I was determined to stay with them and be cool. We boarded the chairlift.

Karen must have seen the sweat pouring down my face as we headed up the mountain at a 90-degree angle because she assured me that we would stay on Green Dots and go slow until I warmed up.

Karen was a fucking liar.

When we got off the chairlift, there were nothing but Black Diamond trails as far as the eye could see. I had no choice but to attempt one.

In all fairness to my "friends", they waited patiently at the bottom of every vertical hill and yelled instructions. But it’s hard to hear when you’re skiing on your ass and heading for the woods. Or careening towards the Ski School toddlers who have braided together and are not moving even though you are shouting, “I can’t stoooooooooop! Holy shit mooooooooove!”

I’d like to say that I learned my lesson about trusting Karen, but she was convincing and charming, and I fell for her Black-Diamond-is-really-Green-Dot trick again and again.

Was I complete moron?

Yes. But really, she kept promising me that Black Diamonds intersected with Blue Squares that turned into Green Dots and that I kept missing the turn-offs.

Finally I’d had enough. On the next trip up the mountain, I told Karen that after that run, I was heading for the lodge. She apologized and told me that she’d take it extra easy on me because I was frazzled. She felt bad. She knew I was frustrated. I was a good friend.

And that’s when we got off the lift and I saw this:


I’ll give you the abridged version of what happened next: I shouted, “Screw it” and threw myself down the cliff ala John Cusack in Better Off Dead.

That’s when I met Mr. Mogul. If you’re not familiar with moguls, they look like this:



Moguls aren’t meant to be skied on one’s back, but I had no choice: My knees buckled on the first bump and I had to succumb to the ice humps. Thank God I was able to keep my legs closed.

When I finally slid to a stop, it was directly under the chairlift, which was stopped. That’s when the clapping started. Slow at first, and then gaining momentum. Karen, Tricia and Liz swooshed down and asked me if I was dead. The world was spinning, my ears were ringing, but I clearly heard a man yell, “You’re hot!”

I looked up and saw an attractive man leaning out of his seat. The sun glinted off his ski mask. He was just My Type.

He was smiling at Karen.

Fucking bitch.

I haven’t skied since.

Chuck’s best friend: So you’ll take some lessons.

Mrs. Mullet [to Chuck]: Hand me that steak knife.

24 comments:

Dugout Daisy said...

Hahaha! I SO know the feeling of this!!! It's so similar to a story I had in High School!
Thanks for the laugh, I really needed it!

;)

Suzi said...

Nice! I take it your friendship fizzled after that? High school girls are just mean, plain mean. On another note, once you get the hang of it skiing IS fun. You should definitely try again.

Julia said...

Ok Suzi, I think the message here is that skiing is JUST IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. ;) That Be-atch Karen should have been slapped. She was inconsiderate, rude and lacked empathy. If I was there I would have slapped her for you. Sorry I let ya down... But I do love skiing too.

Christine said...

The moral of the story should be screw the guys and their skiing fun....let's go to Mexico and be spritzed by hot cabana boys!

Dto3 said...

She's fat now, too, huh?

Mary Anna said...

Have you found your BFF on Facebook yet? Hopefully she's fat, has three kids by four different guys and can't ski to save her life.

Just kidding - like those girls we all knew back then - she's had implants, owns a tanning bed and knows how to use her flat iron.

Mary Anna said...

Though I do like Christine's idea too ...

Who cares if the cabana boys are gay? We're here to look, not actually touch.

Frogs in my formula said...

We are friends on Facebook, I cannot lie. Not close friends, but close enough for me to see that her bottom lip is kind of jutting forward. I swear I am not making this up--she kind of looks like a frog.

Keely said...

Hahhahahah! I had that exact same friend in high school. After sliding down the first black diamond run on my face, I was so frazzled that I lost my balance on the T-bar lift and slid (again, on my face) all the way to the bottom. I took out like, 4 or 5 people on my way down.

Headed for the chalet after that. Hot friend picked up hot ski instructor.

FoN said...

Holy crap that was funny! I can relate - my first time out skiing I took out a five year old three times. It was the same kid. His mom was not best pleased.

Belle said...

Chucks best friend is a dick for forcing you to come out with that painful memory.
All husbands best-friends are dick's.
Except George Clooney's best friend. Maybe George Clooney's best friend isn't married. But that would still make George Clooney his best friend. And I'd go skiing with him anyday. You?

♥georgie♥ said...

LMFAO!!! omgosh that was hysterical!
I dont ski

Petra a.k.a The Wise (*Young*) Mommy said...

what a funny ass story! I hate those Karens of the world. I have always been the "unconventionally pretty and sometimes slightly chubby but with nice boobs" friend and it's just not as awesome as being the "gorgeous and hot even with a missing tooth" friend. I should be over this because it is like 12 years after high school, but sadly, I still harbor resentment.

Carol said...

I'd live if I knew some cute guy would tell me I was hot.

At my age, you get it however you can.

Heather said...

LMAO!!! It wasn't the girlfriend that did that to me...it was my boyfriend at the time. Haven't been skiing since. But, it's fun to watch your kids fall!!! :)

JanaRose said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Leanne said...

That was me. Then I took some lessons and now? It's still me. My advice? Take a book and a few bottles of wine and stay inside by the fire.

Nicole said...

LMAO! Oh my... I think I've been on a black diamond run once--for a good reason... I feel for you--I vote for hangin' out in the lodge. Warm drinks--yum.

Joanie said...

If there is any justice in the world, Karen is now fat and her husband is having an affair.

Eryn at HomeSchooledYear.com said...

omg, I am so glad that entrecard stumbled me in your blog's direction.

I always knew there was a reason that the mere thought of skiing made my skin crawl, it must have been because of your horrible time :(

I hate Karen a bit, too, now, the poor woman, because my best friend was one of those girls who looked good all the time. Some ass in chem class once set the back of her hair on fire...so the next day, she comes in TOTALLY BALD. And you know what? She ROCKED it. I don't look that good after spending 3 days on my hair....

(Don't listen to those other people, skiing can't be fun. It's in the SNOW!)

Mama Cat said...

Ha ha ha!! Sounds just like my skiing experiences years ago!! And let me tell you that snowboarding is no easier, despite what anyone else may say :)

How to Party with an Infant said...

Great story--I was on the edge of my seat. Made me want to go skiing though, as well as bitch slap old high school friends.

Stacy's Random Thoughts said...

Those moguls are not my friends, either...I had a run-in with them when skiing with friends...but they didn't trick me into going down the black diamond and double-black diamond runs, that was a decision made with the liquid courage from my bota bag...LOL! ;)

Temple said...

LMFAO!!! Man, that was awesome!

Oh, and I'm back...missed you too!!!