I am a warrior.

For those who have ever doubted my immense strength, stoic resolve, and unwavering dedication, you can go suck it.

I have a sprained left wrist. Two busted and massively swollen knees that are a very pretty mixture of black and purple. A bruised chin with fresh, vertical scratches. And a plethora of sporadic, colorful bruises and scrapes.

Maybe that doesn't show those traits I listed but it does show I can take a hit. Sort of. I can fall. And fall with style!

To begin my story, let me first start off by explaining snow. Yeah, snow. My memories of snow are few but held close to me. I remember it more from pictures of my first winter. We had a snow storm that year and got several feet of this mystical, white fluffiness. There are photographs of my six month old self in a little cave that my two elder brothers had dug for me. I wasn't exactly visible yet the pink snow suit and my mom swear that it is me. So I grew up waiting for that blizzard to make it's return. Year after year I remained disappointed. Here and there we would get a couple of inches, maybe a foot every other winter or so. Eventually I gave up the dream that was barely half awake anymore. Then this winter...I guess the phrase "A watched pot never boils." is fitting...this winter has been amazing. We got a few bouts of wintry mix which is common yet just before Christmas, we got 22 inches. Can you believe that? Global warming at its finest, ladies and gentlemen. 22 amazingly yet agonizingly cold inches. Slowly, ever so slowly, it melted away only to be replaced several weeks later by another 9 inches. Now by this time I was content, satisfied with the level of snow. And then this past weekend, guess what happened? 14 inches. Can you believe it? Probably. I do 'cause I'm experiencing it.

Now the first two days of this most recent snow burst, I'll be honest. I could not have cared less about it because it flippin' snowed me in and therefore I wasn't able to leave my house for two days. That was miserable but today I finally broke free. First I was just escorted to a family friend's home but then we decided to take action. We put on five bazillion layers of clothes, threw some sleds into the back of the pick-up, and set off on an adventure in the dark.

That's how I came to be standing at the top of a snow covered hill that was a very steep couple of hundred feet. The first time I attempted to slide down it, I made it about twenty feet before toppling over and rolling a good sixty feet until I managed to grab a chuck of ice that stopped my seemingly endless tumble. The second time I went down, I went airborne over a ditch and nearly punctured a lung on impact. My mom says that's an exaggeration about the lung puncturing but I don't think it is. I got a ride in the back of the pick-up truck to the top again and eventually I migrated to the kidde hill and snowboarded on a sled 'cause I could do that without injuring myself. And then...then I was dumb and went back down the big hill again. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life, to be quite honest.

Then on the way back up the hill, I sat looking out into the distance. The pick-up truck jostled and shook me, threatening to throw me off but I couldn't take my eyes off of the city lights. It was a splattering of green, blue, red, yellow, white against the black. And something came over me in that moment as I stared at such a breath taking sight surrounded by friends and family. I think people call it happiness.