Seeing as how this has been an unusually warm winter here in the vicinity of Gotham, I had begun to forget what real snow was like. It had also been too long since I tried sliding down a mountain, or taken a decent road trip. Put all those things together, and you have the makings of a long overdue ski trip — which I and my friends from the city did this past weekend.

We rented a great house in Windham, Vermont for the weekend, and spent Saturday attacking the slopes at Stratton. My first snowboarding experience outside of the sloped ice rink known as Camleback in the Poconos, and I can say that the drive north was well worth it. There was a world of difference between the facilities and staff: the snow was well groomed, there was almost no wait for the majority of the lifts (the gondolas to the top of the mountain being the one exception), and everyone I dealt with there was helpful and courteous (a trait I experienced throughout the state, actually).

The whole weekend was packed with activity, even when we weren’t on the slopes. The house we were at had a sweet pool table, I brought my Wii and everyone had lots of fun making miniature versions of themselves and flailing around with a remote control, and there was much drinking and music and what not. In fact, the only real down side to the whole affair was when good friend Lauren tore her ACL on the last run of the day on the top of the mountain. But as the ski patrol said, at least it was on the last run and not the first.

All in all, I think the experience went extremely well, and I’m looking forward to doing it again next year. Next time I hope we can fit in two days on the slopes. That way I can still put in more time on the snowboard and still reacquaint myself with those two plank things called skis.

(Note: In the past, I would have waited until — silly notions about chronological posting and all that rot. That would have robbed you all of two extra posts, and I’m trying to avoid that kind of stuff….)

A lot of the changes in my life this year have been more internal than external. But this past Friday I did something to help reflect those changes on the outside. I refer you to the photographic evidence below:

For the first time in years, I am no longer a long-haired hippy freak. It took me a long time to finally get the cut job, but it was always in the plans. There was a few late nights during the winter when I almost did the trim job myself with my desk scissors, just for the sense of change it would have brought. Then again, part of this plan when I decided to let my hair grow long was to donate it to Locks of Love, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t do any irrepriable damage to its donatability.

I’m still getting used to the new look — trying not to freak out when I see a different face in the mirror and all that — but so far, so good. I’m really going to enjoy not having to spend an eternity dealing with just my hair when I take a shower. Now I just hope it doesn’t have a Sampson effect on me. Then again, Sampson’s real strength was never really in the hair….