Diplomas and Splints and Snow

You: Up to speed. In brief:


After showing my outta-town friends what the Jersey Shore is really like, I tumbled down some stairs and broke my finger.

I maintain that the culprit was the extreme lack of light by which that staircase may have been seen.


NYU threw us a graduation fete. The best way to say, “Congratulations on completing your master’s program!” is really to dole out oodles of free wine, and that they did. My mom got drunk and wrote “Viagra” on a white board–we have no idea why:



I do not have a job. Not officially, anyway. I guess you could call me a freelancer. That sounds cooler than staff member anyway, doesn’t it? I’ll keep telling myself that.

New Jersey has had more snow than Maine–a fact I discovered after driving 8.5 hours by my lonesome to meet Kel and Dave near Sunday River. Despite the uncharacteristic lack of natural precipitation, SR pulled through with its fancy technology, and the conditions were good. I may have momentarily panicked on White Heat, otherwise known as a vertical sheet of ice, but ended up kicking the shit out of that double black. (Or at least making it to the bottom without falling over.) To the lift operator: I would gladly ski with you anytime.

I am going to Paris, London, and the East Coast of Australia. In nine days. I de-waxed my board yesterday. That flour trick is AMAZING.


Snow storms do not [necessarily] generate swell in the same way as some other storms. Exhibit A:

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