2011/01/30

First Ski of the Season

Skiing is a wonderful thing I realized, after I got the hang of it.

For people just starting, the "pizza" or the "triangle" or the "pie slice" do not work. In fact, they don't do jack shit.

When I first started, I looked like a bowlegged statue flying down the hill. Not only is it the n00b stamp, but it doesn't even reduce any momentum one might have picked up during a run down a slope, screaming all the way. I have yet to see one person actually stop from putting the points of their skis together. It is this one technique that made me hate skiing up until college, when I saw people who actually skied never did the fucking pizza. And when I realized how people actually stop, I started to like skiing.

I am but an intermediate skier. I had my share of wipeouts today. There was one powder course and, no, I don't know how to ski powder. I remember seeing a youtube video about pointing the ski tips up, but hey, when I'm tumbling head over heels they'll be pointing up anyway.

Thank god it was soft. I once heard skiing on fresh fallen snow was like skiing on silk, and it really is. Or skiing on clouds. When the skis and much of the legs are covered by a moving wave of snow, and all one feels is the quiet slicing across the terrain; there isn't another feeling like it. I despise winter in Aomori, but the snow does have its good points.

I also tried my hand at jumping again. The last time I did I landed on my tailbone and had trouble walking for a week. But today! Today was good. I landed on my feet. And airtime is fun. Although the whole jumping thing wreaks havoc on the knees. 

Unfortunately the high winds and godforsaken 2 hour drive made me decide to leave a little earlier. I arrived back home and fixed myself a quick salad. I decided to splurge on carbs since I skipped lunch in order to get as much skiing in.

I envy good skiers like I envy classical pianists. They have this skill, and it's so beautiful to see in action. And I want it. On not so steep hills, I have the hubris to believe I look like them. Like a child with delusions of grandeur, I see my hips sashaying from side to side, the poles lightly tapping the snow in time to every turn I make. But on those steeper slopes, whatever grace I have goes out the window. I try my hardest just to stay upright, and somehow the skis separate, probably from some fault of form.

Any tips for someone who wants to be a beautiful skier?

2011/01/26

Entry 1

I write for myself often, but it's so chock full of compressed metaphors and phrasings, not to mention probably mixed with 3 or so different languages, it doesn't really make any sense to anyone else trying to read it.

So in an attempt to write for an audience, I'll try this blog. To be honest, I don't like putting my thoughts out there, and I will lose interest most likely, but we shall see how far this will go. You also may have noticed that I lack imagination, hence this being simply Entry 1.

The possibility exists that it will always be like the dust before the wind, to be blown away before the blink of an eye. Hence the name. Not to mention it's one of my favorite lines from classical Japanese.

In the unlikely event that my readership is greater than 0, leave a comment if there's a topic you feel I should write about, or really anything. I'm a big boy, I can handle the criticism. And veiled behind the internet, chances are I don't know you and you don't know me, so it's all good. Japanese social sites make it easy to track who's come to see you via the 足跡 (ashiato, footprint) function, but it seems like this site doesn't have it. So give a shout out if you feel the urge.

So my thought for the day is the precipitous plummet of my sex drive. Inversely related to stress. I know of people who fuck like rabbits to alleviate stress; I don't even feel a need anymore.

I got my ass handed to me when I met with the person editing my application documents for Kyoto University. Apparently my Japanese compositional skill is so low we have to meet again on Saturday. Which is wonderful, although I wish I could turn it in earlier. I'd hate to keep the professor waiting.

So it seems that asking people questions about themselves increases the amount of people that read a blog. Today's question is: What happens to your sex drive under large amounts of stress? Does it go up, down, or is there no change? Explain.

Because people love talking about themselves right? So tell me about yourself.