For those of you hoping to find an amusing or deeply provocative post today, I warn you now, this is not to be. This post is dedicated to providing anyone who cares with updated information regarding the life and times of Peter. These are the kind of posts I personally avoid reading on other blogs, mainly because ‘updates’ usually translates to ‘trivial matters incessantly whined about because only people as intimate with the whiner as, say, their tape-worm, would really care to hear about.’ I will try my utmost to avoid a retelling of all my personal woes, and instead relate various occurrances in my life you might actually care about. This should be a short post.

Another semester of college down, and only three to go. It’s mildly terrifying to think that in a year and a half, I will actually have no choice but to face the real world. Facing the real world implies having a degree, getting a job, working full-time, living on my own, and-if I’m very lucky-getting married. This worries me as last time I checked, I am definitely not an adult. Anyone who knows me can vouch for this. I’m pretty sure it will take an act of God to transform me from a smelly adolescent into someone with an active idea of what the word ‘responsibility’means.

Speaking of the getting married part, I’m sure you’ve all heard by now that I’m engaged. Her name is Elizabeth, and the wedding is set for July 17th. It will be a private affair at the Light’s Hope Chapel, an EPL affiliate.

Man, I wish I could see the look on your face as you read that. I am sure it was priceless. I am, of course, very much kidding about the engagement. However, I am still dating Elizabeth, who continues to be an absolutely wonderful influence on my life. If anyone has noticed improvements in my civility or manner in general, you probably have her to thank. It’s strange…besides final exams, she is the only force on the planet that causes me to voluntarily quit playing World of Warcraft (a game to which I am hopelessly addicted). She does not even have to ask me; she just shows up at my door, and suddenly I find myself closing down my computer and heading out to be social with her. Truly a terrifying power this woman has over me. And yet, I have never been happier.

My Christmas break has been quite enjoyable. Family and friends continue to welcome me back, somehow managing to keep smiles on their faces as they greet me. Was there an acting class everyone took that I didn’t know about, because if I did not know better, I’d think you guys were happy to see me. I have even been invited to a few parties, which worries me. Actively encouraging me to join a social setting without even the requirement of a paper bag over my head calls into question the sanity of the hostess.

A final point of interest is that I have been doing some serious writing as of late. For a creative writing class I took last semester, I really went to town on an original short story. I also wrote some poetry, which was amazingly well recieved. I will be posting this work on my site. If you are curious, look for it in the pages section of the site. I am actually rather proud of the story, and I would love to know what you all think of it.

Until next time (when hopefully I will have something worthwhile to write) happy New Years to everyone. Peace.

“Peter, turn…turn, turn, TURN” is not what you want to hear while strapped to a pair of skies intent on taking you over the river and through the woods in a painfully literal sense. Especially if your name is Peter. As I threw my meager weight to the right, I noted with some concern that gravity was apparently playing ‘opposites day,’ as I continued my undesirable jounrey left. Even more unfortunate, the pine tree I was barrelling towards did not have a kindly disposition towards mankind. In fact, I am pretty sure I heard it laugh in a deep, malicious tone as it readied barbed pine-cones aimed for my oncoming face.

None of this would have happened, had I not agreed to go skiing with my best friends on Thursday. While my natural charm and excessive good looks propel me smoothly through most adversity, I discovered that fair Lady Physics possibly the only female not susceptible to the charismatic fireball that is myself. This being my first ski trip, she and I were about to become intimately acquainted.

I realized I was in trouble the first trip up the chairlift. Looking up from the ground, the gentle pace of the chairs ascending the mountain appeared quite safe. It was only when I reached the summit that I realized this contraption was going to dump me down a slope at what then seemed about 20 mph. Naturally, I fell on my butt, and they had to stop the lift while I hauled my carcass out of the way.

Down the bunny slope I went, and with some guidance from a friend, I began to learn. Emphasis on the word ‘began.’ Up the chairlift I went again, launched back on the slope I flew, back on my butt I landed. Yep, this was going to be fantastic.

Yet after only two runs on the bunny slope, my friends graduated me to the green runs. I’m thinking this had less to do with my natural skill, and more with the fact that my wipe-outs were sure to be more spectacular at improved speeds. Peering down these new slopes, I estimated these new speeds would be rivaling that of sound itself. This leads me to the encounter with the Pine of Doom.

Thankfully, Lady Physics came to my aid, sending my skies in the direction I pointed them; namely, away from that tree. Although I managed to kiss a branch on the way by. Which is lame, because that means a tree has gotten more action from me than my girlfriend over Christmas break.

At the bottom of that hill, I was faced with another choice: do I continue on at a velocity usually reserved for space travel, or do I stop before that large metal pole gets intimate with my face? An obvious choice, except for the minor detail that I didn’t really have the whole ’stopping’ gig quite figured out. At all.

So I opted for choice #3: a 90 degree turn at the last second. The good news is I missed the pole.

The bad news is I didn’t miss the ground.

You see, while my legs turned, the rest of my body seemed content to continue down the hill towards the pole. The next few seconds were all a blur, very literally. All I know is you can still find several perfect impressions of first my left side, then my head, then my right side, all chronicled in the snow.

In my defense, my best friend who is an expert skier nearly crashed on the very same run. I am sure it had nothing to do with the internal bleeding brought on by laughing hysterically at my cartwheel biff.

Amazingly, I made it out of there with no broken bones, although the tattered remains of my pride still flutter like a rag in the wind, stuck on the edge of a ski pole.

I would end this with an upbeat comment on how I sure seized the day, but in retrospect, I’m rather positive the day seized me.

Then proceeded to beat the snot out of me via snowdrifts and gravity.