Skiing kicks ass but spring is a bitch

I would like you all to know that your patience with my sporadic blogging will be amply rewarded. I don’t know how, or by who but I am sure that you are racking up the good karma by indulging me in thinking I am important. May you all find good parking, lose your love-handles, and drink expensive wine on someone else’s tab. You deserve it.
This month has seemed to go by so fast! I know it is a short month but I swear there have been less than 28 days in February this year. You know what else is fast? My new skis. Yes, those of you who have been reading since the beginning of the season will recall my less than graceful first attempts on the slopes. I have gone from screeching at helpful strangers and throwing myself at the snow in despair to racing down smooth black runs and fearlessly attacking moguls. Skiing is my savior. Not just because it is THE MOST FUN EVER but also because it has kept me from my seasonal depression. Like a good bouncer at seedy yet popular underground hot spot, skiing threw SAD into the scum lined alley and kicked once in the back for good measure. I have not had any problems at all. Maybe it is having something to look forward to every weekend. Maybe it is all the outdoor exercise, I’m really not sure. All I know is that I will be very very sad when the season is over. I may become the first person in history to get my seasonal depression in the middle of spring.
Speaking of spring, I fucking hate it. I have never liked spring. Spring is a slutty little tease with nothing to offer. It looks nice out but it is still cold, and it might rain at any moment. All the new fashions are out but you will catch hypothermia if you wear them. There are no good holidays (where “good holiday” is defined as “holiday where I get attention/presents). Sure there is Mothers Day and Fathers Day and about ½ of the known world is born in May but where does that put me? Broke, that’s where. Not that parents don’t deserve lauding, they do (Hi Mama! Hi Papa!) its just why must we do it in the most horrible of all seasons? There are no paid holidays until the END of May and everyone knows that Memorial Day is the kick off for summer. Spring is an endless string of inconsistent weather. It is haunted my memories of the slopes and dreams of long summer days. It is a limbo we must endure year after year. Sure, OK, the birds come back and the flowers begin to bloom and the trees grow their leaves back. But isn’t that just like saying the birds all be back until summer and the flowers wont all bloom until then either and the trees wont have their leaves fully grown. Isn’t spring really just the anticipation of summer? Fucking spring.