Ahh, the elusive three-day weekend. How dost one celebrate thee appropriately? Those in the northern states might celebrate by fleeing for warmer climes. But if you’re a coastal/southern Californian,* you might just consider making a trek to see that cold, wet, white stuff** that you’re always hearing about. Yeah, that frozen stuff that is always causing hellacious problems in BosNYwash and beyond.

And how. Like many of our fellow residents of the Golden state, the beau and I paid homage to our dead presidents by heading up to Mammoth Mountain with our friends. This provided me an opportunity to go skiing for the first time. Of course, I went with people who had been skiing since grade school. So what I really mean by “going skiing” is “making a giant embarrassing ass of myself.”

On the very second run I attempted, the beau accidentally took us up the wrong lift. We had been looking for a green route, you see. Green meant easy. What we did not know until it was much too late was that we ended up on a blue diamond, which is one step below a black diamond. Which translates into a “medium-hard” level of difficulty. Ho ho! The universe has such a delightful sense of humor sometimes.

Can I tell you something? It took me an hour to get down that run. In that hour, I have never hated snow so much in my entire life. I knew, of course, that it was not the beau’s fault, so I tried not to vent my frustrations at him. And by tried not to vent my frustrations I mean threw a hysterical fit. “This is the stupidest fucking sport EVER,” I moaned from my spread-eagle position on the slope after biting it for the 28th consecutive time. “I can’t do this I can’t do this oh my god I HATE EVERYTHING AND I’M GOING TO DIE!!!!”***

Not my best moment.

If I tried, I could somehow tie this story into an insightful analysis of the dynamics of our relationship, and how we can sometimes treat each other during stressful times, and how amazing it is that the beau did not just leave me mid-whine on the mountainside, but I am just too tired. The skiing, you see. It takes a lot out of you.

What I want to share with you instead are these vintage cards from 7 Deadly Sinners the beau gave me for Valentine’s Day. Well, he didn’t give them to me in the sense that they reflect his sentiments, he more presented them to me in the context of wow, would you look at these crazy things!!****

Look at them indeed.

Disturbing and misogynistic! Everything you want in a Valentine! Or… no.

What kinds of trouble did you get into this weekend?

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* OH HAI WHAT A COINCIDENCE I AM ONE OF THOSE.

** This will amuse you east coasters: at one point in the trip, we came across a couple of kids who had gotten their truck stuck on a trail. The boy was busy affixing chains on the front tires, and the girl was… hunched over an embankment, shoveling snow into her mouth. Yes. She was eating snow. She said she was from L.A. and it was the first time she had ever seen “real snow.” Insert scoffing noise/estimate as to how high she was here.

*** Wow. Emo much?

**** He is so cute.