Skiing accidents most commonly occur, according to statistics, on the last day of your holiday - possibly due to an increase in that laissez faire, "what's the worst that can happen", attitude. Predictably, day seven involved the worst fall I had all week (not too bad though - panic not!). This was due to a simple case of mistaken identity - I briefly thought that I was one of those cool skiing girls (I'm not) who could do jumps (I can't). After successfully navigating a few small jumps at the Nintendo Terrain Park, I then totally failed to do a table-top, resulting bruise on my behind is about the size of a large orange. Nice!
I'm also doomed to wear this on my knee for the foreseeable future:
It's lovely to be back on solid ground in rainy Manchester, although the initial shock of not being brought freshly baked cookies and hot chocolate every twenty minutes has been somewhat of a shock to the system. However, I've decided to lay off the treats for a while, after this conversation at the airport.
Big Bro: "How's your blog coming along?"
Me: "Well! I've had over 800 pageviews in the last month!"
Ma: "800 PASTRIES? I noticed you've put on a lot of weight, but I wasn't going to say anything..."
Me: "PAGEVIEWS. But thanks, Ma."
So the new food plan is healthy things like salads and berries for the foreseeable future. When I'm looking a bit more svelte, I plan on treating myself to a few beautiful things from Beautiful Bottoms. I think they'll look totally ravishing when paired with my knee brace...
As for the boy situation, I saw the one who made me the embarrassing proposition on Valentine's Day. Think clipped sentences and avoiding eye contact on both parts. Say awkward turtle! My phone is currently being massively antisocial and not receiving text messages, so I have no idea whether the boy that I'm interested in has replied to my messages or being in contact at all. But I live in hope!
I hope you all had really great weekends?