We are being so spontaneous, you don’t even know.

Mmm hmm (make sure you make your “hmm” sound go up at the end to sound mildly patronizing/condescending to capture our mood).

We are throwing caution to the wind all over the place (actually, we’re being pretty rational and responsible, but we are having fun, and it is awfully windy). This weekend, we’re hitting the mountain with Ben and Ashley. Second time this season, and this time—get ready for it, folks—we’re going to partake in snowy activities. I have not been strapped to any kind of fast-moving snow-thletic gear since I was about 12, so this will be an adventure. I am fairly sure I will throw at least 3 tantrums and there will be tears involved. Because I am a big chicken. Adam can’t wait (he said he’d take the beginner’s lesson with me).

I’m both excited and scared to be strapped into just one piece of equipment and no, I don’t believe you when you tell me that snowboarding is just like surfing. I’m not strapped to my surfboard (it’s a leash and there’s significant lee-way). Maybe I just need a shot of liquid courage to loosen me up first. Oh wait, that’s a terrible idea. Sigh.

This will be fun, regardless. SNOW! Ben said there’s so much fresh snow that we’ll need our snorkels. I don’t think he understands how to snowboard (NB: Ben is one of the best snowboarders we know, just on the off-chance he reads this and sues me for libel).

Also, in other exciting news, A.K.A. Paris in the Fall, Jen and I Skyped tonight. There was much conferring over calendars (ooh la la!), followed by each of us asking the other, “So, how’s your French?” I think we’ll get by. <<excitement mounts>>

Lastly, tonight, I didn’t need to teach/work/volunteer/be anywhere. So, post-Skype, Adam and I went for a jog (it’s so light out, Daylight Savings!) and then came home. My laundry pile (all clean, all three weeks of it) was going to be folded this evening, but it did not come to pass. Um, you guys? I’m going to bed now: Feel free to drop by and fold it for me. Maui sucks at it, on account of her not having thumbs, she says. So she just sleeps in it. Only the clean laundry, mind you; never the dirty… And as for Hermes folding it, well, you can forget it. That guy does NOT help out around the house.

Laundry Mountain