It was freezing today. I mean, it's always cold, but it was particularly cold and windy today. I decided to wear a pretty scarf instead of my blue fleece turtleneck thing. Bad idea. Fleece things don't get frozen and stiff. Scarves do, no matter how pretty they are.
We went on black slopes, which was fun, but the light was terrible and you couldn't tell what was packed snow and what was powder. Which meant we ended up doing a lot of inadvertent powder skiing. Which meant we did a lot of inadvertent falling on our faces.
It was fun though. Falling in powder isn't bad. Powder is soft.
David: This is how crush babies are made. You put them on the back of your brain to marinate, and then you put it on the stove and it's either done and smells good and delicious, or it burns and you throw it out...
David and I are chatting about the various interesting aspects of our respective love lives. It's a great convo.
Me: Oh I love great convos. Great convos are... great.
David: Let's converse about great convos!
I have a theory: David and I are geniuses. We think in analogies. We've turned life into an olympic sport, people into forests and settlers, and crushes into cancerous embryos marinating. That takes a certain degree of brilliance. Abstract thinking. Neurons performing unconventional activities.
I'd like to go with the "We're geniuses" theory and not the "We're mentally retarded" theory.
Me: [taps camera] Am I doing something?
David: Yes. Congratulations.
Maybe it's just me who's [retarded/a genius, take your pick].
Clara
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