Brr. Saranc Lake is cold!! That's right, Saranac Lake, aka a God forsaken frozen wasteland. It is once again time for winter carnival. Every year I am dragged up north, kicking and screaming, to stare at castles made of ice and watch lumberjacks (or lumberjills, whatever the case may be) throw axes and chop wood. Going up to winter carnival is like going to the dentist. You know that you have to, but you really don't want to and you thank God it doesn't come around too often.

What made it even worse this year was the fact that I had the "Agu". What's the agu, you may ask? The agu is when you think you have the flu, but you really don't. I spent a hellish six-hour car ride coughing and sneezing as we journeyed haphazardly to the frozen tundra that is PSC. I stayed in the hotel and watched strange shows on TV while everyone else went out for dinner (Little Italy, of course) just because I was feeling so awful. When they got back (they being my mom, dad, Sarah and my cousin Melissa) we watched Benji on TCM. I've seen bad acting, I've seen bad writing, but wow. Just wow. It was so bad it was funny, not unlike our spring play.

Speaking of the spring play, I honestly don't recommend you see it. I recommend that you stay far away, out of sight.

Anyway, getting back to PSC now. I had a terrible night. None of my medicine seemed to work, and when it did it took at least an hour to kick in. Melissa was staying with Sarah on campus, so they didn't have to watch me pace and kick the bed out of frustration.

The next day I was still feeling good 'n' crappy and opted to stay in the hotel again and miss the rugby game. Rugby is one of those games where they say that there's rules, but they don't honestly mean it. It's just sort of one of those "anything goes" sports. At least, that's the way I've always thought of it. I couldn't help but wonder if there were any guys playing rugby in the snow this year without their shirts. (Give blood--play rugby.)

When visiting Saranac Lake, you can't leave without encountering some lumberjacks (or jills). I did manage to get out for the Woodsmen's competition. For those of you who don't know, woodsmen competitions pit lumberjack against lumberjack. There's several different events, including axe throwing, fire building, log rollling, cross cutting, underhand chop and one where you chop pieces of wood and shove them into a barrel. The woodsmen all need to protect their feet and shins (especially for the underhand chop, where you chop wood between your legs), so they all have to wear this protective gear. Most of the woodsmen I've seen go for the tin man armor--metal covering your shins and the outside of your shoes. You look like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz when you wear it. You can also use chainmail, which (obviously) goes under your pants and into your shoes. Given the choice, I think I would rather be the tin man. I'm sure that there's some psychological benefit to wearing plate armor on your feet. Plus I wouldn't worry so much about chopping off a foot or a toe or a leg. (I'm lucky, I still have all nine toes.)

After the woodsmen, there was, of course, the winter carnival parade. It's one of the few things I actually enjoy up here. If I wasn't so sure that I was going to get frostbite, I would've stayed outside for it. Instead, I just curled up back inside the hotel, nice and warm. ^^   I "cheated" by watching the parade on TV, but I sadly missed the PSC woodsmen's float.

Flash foward a few hours to the evening. I found out something rather disheartening (via facebook) which left me singing "Grace Kelly" by Mika...especially the lines, "Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me?" It was then when I swore...FACEBOOK REVENGE!!

Angsting aside, we journeyed to the ice castle. It was pretty fun, and a lot bigger than last year's. We stuck some of Melissa's leftover euros into the ice, which were promptly stolen by some kids and their dad with a lighter. Then we went to to dinner in Placid, which was rather crappy. Then we went back to the Saranac Hotel for a dance. This totally make the entire trip worth it.

The band, Double Axel, was so much fun! Since the theme this year was The Fabulous 50's, they played all these great songs from the 50s, along with other classics. It was kind of weird at first, and I felt oddly self-conscious. But soon we were all dancing together, either attempting to swing dance, keep our balance, or just keep up with Kevin! One guy asked me to dance, though, and it scared the shit out of me! When I dance with someone else, I usually end up hurting him, or myself, or an innocent bystander. Then again, everyone on the dance floor was all so crushed together it didn't really matter. Anyway, I ran away, utterly terrified, and then my mom made me feel bad about doing so.

So then I tried to dance with more strange people. A couple of those guys got a little too low, if you know what I'm saying. It was that point when I just walked away sort of like, "No. Just no." That night, I discovered the advantages of being 5'2". When you're in a sea of Paul Bunyon's and everyone is ten inches taller than you, it really helps you avoid people. ^_^

With a smile from that beautiful stranger, I played a coquette that night.

We danced on that slippery floor all night. Before it was even over, I already knew what I thought of it. This is how a Saturday night should be spent, not singing "Piano Man" and waiting around for adult swim. One night dancing with some very good looking lumberjacks. ^_^ 

Then it was Sunday and we drove home.

(What an anticlimatic finish.)