Rumbling belly + hangover = sickness on the slopes

Saturday was day two and the last day of skiing for me.

Due to the drinking of the night before along with the incredibley spicy food from the restaurant, my stomach was not happy with me. I ignored it while I was getting ready to head over to the slopes with the Room mates hoping that it was nothing. Probably just nerves or something considering we were going to attempt Great Eastern that day.

The first run down I started feeling nauseus.

The second run down brought on light headedness.

There was no third run.

The boys wanted to go off and get more slope time in before we met up with Room mate #1's old college buddies at 12:30, so I bid them adieu from the picnic tables at the bottom of Snowshead and waited for the world to stop spinning. Eventually I was able to get up and make my way inside where I promptly plopped down at a table and put my head down. After a few minutes of quietness I was able to make my way over to the coffee stand for some tea. One of the lessons I learned early from my mom, hot tea will always settle a stomach. Or make you throw up...which I did. But after I did that (in the bathroom of course) I felt better. Much better.

So I headed back upstairs to the bar to wait for the boys.

Paul was working again. He offered me a beer but considering the state of my tummy, I decided against it. Just a Coke this time. Paul said o.k., but only if I promised not to fall of the stool again. Lucky for him I can laugh at myself. Heaven only knows I've had 30 years of practice.

Once the guys came in we ordered lunch, watched the Dukies kick some Terp butt, then headed back out again. Considering the way my long run started, I probably should have stayed in the lodge.

The usual lift was down for some reason (so not hottie Bulgarians) so we were forced to take the double. With the ski school people. Who cut you off in line because they couldn't stop. And the lift operator who wasn't paying attention when my ski's got tangled up with Room mate #1's, forcing me to get hit in the back by the lift chair, which knocked me over and off the lift and pulled Room mate #1 down with me.

That's right folks, I fell. off. the freaking lift.

Once the yard sale was cleaned up and we were on our way again, I ran into an issue at the top. For some reason the unloading area was very small compared to what I was used to so I wasn't ready to have to get off right away. Which caused me to have to jump off the lift and run over some snowboarders who had stupidly stopped right off of the unloading area. Remember that scene in Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason where she leaps off of the lift? Yeah. That was me.

So again, we gathered ourselves together, started across the mountain to the gondola's to the top...and I fell right over my own two feet just near the line for the lift.

Brilliant.

The gondola trip wasn't too bad, very picturesque...and I'm not just talking about the views out into the valley. We were loaded on with three other snowboarders and hubba, hubba. Holy hotness Batman. Unfortunately being with the Wonder Twins keeps me from meeting many guys but boy were those boards nice to look at. Too soon we were 3,400' (give or take) up, they were off for the double black diamonds and we were headed for Great Eastern, one of the longest trails there.

Last year I didn't make it the whole way due to an ucooperative sock.

This year, oh this year I did the whole bloody thing.

Only problem is, no one told me about the bumps (not moguls) that happened where the trail crossed over the harder trails. The first set came as a total shock and caused some not so family friendly four letter words to come out as I took to the air.

By the time we made it down to the bottom of the mountain it was getting close to closing time so we called for our ride and rested until Stupid Girlfriend got there. By the time she got to the pick up point my poor calves were screaming so much I nearly fell over when I stood up. Good thing we were by a wall.

After everyone got back to the place we showered and changed for another night out on the town. Dinner was at a small sports bar called the Upper Deck where I scored some Corona goodies because I had ordered one with dinner (it was on special and hey, I'm a cheap bitch). We had originally planned to go to the Wobbly Barn, site of much debaucherous activity last year. That plan was nixed when we found out they had a $15 cover charge for the band that was there. Um, yeah, no. As stated before I'm a cheap bitch and no band, unless they are one I like, is worth a $15 cover charge. The Pickle Barrel had Love Seed Mama Jump but like I said, I'm cheap and I was tired.

So we stayed in.

And I fell asleep on Jeff's bed (with his permission) at 10:30 p.m.

The next thing I knew it was 7 a.m. and time to get the train moving back home.