Don't Go Brecken' My Heart

Since I’ve moved to New York, I’ve only been on a handful of trips that don’t involve Texas or weddings. Don’t get me wrong, I love those too, but sometimes you just need a true vacation, an escape from the real world.

And that’s just what my weekend in Colorado was. Finally a chance to ski with S and to get away from it all.

Hmm, really Rachel? Is that why you booked the trip to Denver?

Ugh, okay fine, loyal reader, I'll own up to it, for your sake: It might have involved a guy.

Yes, two to four months is the typical gestation period for Dumb Guy Decisions That Involve Air Travel [see story of LA Jim for additional confirmation] so yes, this trip originally had an ulterior motive. Granted in my defense, though, I knew that no matter what happened, I would finally get the ski trip with S I’d always talked about.

If, for some reason, you've not been hanging on my every idiotic dating word, let me get you up to speed: I am a moron. Blame my affinity for love stories and blindness to reality (aka when a guy with a girl friend tells you that he "loves" you and wants you to move to Denver, you should probskies consider he's a jackass who is in fact full of shit).

Sigh, we all knew it was going to end poorly, didn't we? (Internet Blacklisting Poorly if we're keeping track, which is for the best because, according to S, there are some lameo relationship pics all over the place. Considering I'm a Facebook Masochist, a "digital cutter" if you will, getting blocked was for my own good.)

Anyway, he's DTM, moving on.

After flying in early Friday and getting to see a day in S' life with a stop by her office - which btw is way cooler than most - we headed to Breckenridge with one of her best guy friends Luke, who seriously could not have been a more perfect travel buddy. So easy going and laid back, but also funny and entertaining, what more could you ask for? Oh plus he packed a cooler for us! And let me eat gas station roadtrip snacks in his new truck! I mean, really, what a guy.

From there, S and I then had the two most wonderful ski days ever. Conditions were perfect: Sunny blue skies, warm enough to be enjoyable, but not incredibly crowded. Having both grown up skiing, we were at the same level and enjoyed the same stuff. Mostly blues that we could zip down, a few blacks for good measure, and even a mogul run to prove that we could do anything. (It was not pretty but I survived.)

Best of all, though, was the sweet Pigtail Discount I got at the rental place. Pigtails are apparently the ultimate cute girl hairstyle (not something you can get away with all the time, but skiing and Halloween fo sho), and they work wonders. Those bad boys helped me woo the pack of adorable cougar bait ski bums into giving me my gear gratis. Although I should technically refer to it as Pulling A Meredith, the queen of using her feminine wiles to see what kind of a discount she can get. It’s a gift. That ’96 Explorer did not sell itself.

Sidenote: I totally wanted to get a pic for the blog so you could see my adorable new friends: Matt from Vermont, Brendan, Andy, and Cameron (I love nametags! Calling guys by name whom you are trying to Discount Seduce is key, FYI. ). Sadly, though, my mom wasn’t there to orchestrate the awkward moment, which it is totally her specialty.

Anyway, our time in Breck was amazing - seriously it could not have been better - and then it was topped off by the strangest night EVER. Because the world is small and the universe knows I need things to blog about!

A long time ago, I wrote about how the guy I dated junior year of high school dumped me and I got back at him by going to prom with his best friend (and accidentally looking identical to his date/gf). I've stayed friends with The Prom Date, although it’s been forever since we’ve caught up. (Although apparently thanks to our other friend’s wife (Hi!), he’s been catching up on The Guide, hooray.) 

So while we were out at a bar in Breck on Saturday night, I looked across the room and saw a guy who looked identical to The Prom Date. Was it him? Was it not him? Oh wait, he’s with His Friend Who I Dated. Confirmation accepted.

Two words: So weird.

I don’t think I’ve seen The Guy Who Dumped Me For Someone Who Looked Like Me since high school. The Prom Date, on the other hand, I’ve spent lots of quality time with. No, not that kind.

But that could all change in seven years when he agreed that if we’re both single we could get married. A much better option than the last guy I met on a ski trip. (Or Plan G for that matter.)

Either way, it was a perfect weekend.

Oh, and don't forget to mark your calendars for 2018: Arranged marriage of the century!