Hey can I text you content of my Classic Brian? I don't have internet where I'm at now.
A Classic Brian in 160 character installments. A Classic Brian for the twitter age.
Okay. This text plus those first two make up the introduction. My statement of purpose. Hello, Classic Brian readers. How have you been?
Also Nick keep in mind I'll probably be sending you this over the course of the night. You're a good friend. Nick Dietrich, everyone. He's a real cool bro.
Let me set the scene for you guys. Here I sit, on a couch in a condo in the Durango Mountain Resort in Durango, Colorado. I've been here since Monday night.
It's a nice place. There are decorative skis on the walls, which seems sortof silly. There is a virtual fireplace. Also silly.
Nick you better be seperating these texts with paragraph breaks. These thoughts are grouped together for a reason, god damnit.
Not that I don't trust you.
I'm currently watching episode 5 season 1 of the Wire with the 5 other people I'm on this trip with.
I slept for 12 hours today and I've spent the day alone in the condo, reading The Girl Who Played With Fire and listening to music.
Had things not turned out how they did, I would've been snowboarding all day with the rest of these guys. That's how things were looking, before The Incident.
Capitalize The Incident, Nick.
Snowboarding is hard. Let me tell you. Snowboarding is very difficult. Mountains are big and steep, and even when you master turning left, there's still right.
We've been snowboarding all week, and things were going swimmingly. I'm not the best at snowboarding but I've seen some dumb fools up here who are eeeven worse.
So Thursday, our second full day of mountain time, we agreed to meet for lunch around 12:30.
I've been sticking around with my friend Caitlin all week, because we are pretty much the worst of our group.
Mike sucks way worse than us though because he switched to skis midway through our first full day. He's not a soldier. Caitlin and I? We're soldiers.
I would dedicate more space to insulting Mike more I don't have much more material. Skiing's weak though.
So anyway around noon Caitlin and I get to the bottom of the mountain, half an hour before our agreed lunch meeting time.
I decide to go up the mountain for another run, and Caitlin, not caring for my personal safety, decides to stay.
Let me phrase this in no uncertain terms: everything that happens after this point is Caitlin's fault.
The rest of this story is pieced together through secondary sources, because I have no idea what happened. I lost 6 or 7 hours of memory.
12 minutes later later Caitlin finds me at the bottom of the mountain. She waves, but I don't acknoledge her. I don't seem to recognize her.
When she approaches me I tell her I can't remember how to take my snowboard off. I tell her that I think I hit my head, that I need to go get it looked at.
Apparently they took me to urgent care. I proceeded to have the same 2 conversations with everyone for two hours not remembering that they had already occurred.
After a little while I didn't improve, and they decided I needed to go to the hospital and get a CAT scan.
For anybody who's interested, the first conversation was about the color of my socks (pink), and the second was about whether or not I was acting like myself.
The long and short of it was I got a concussion. The CAT scan showed up clean, and I was let go once I became more coherent. Which I eventually did.
Shout out to Chris Larberg, who stayed with me the entire time, and who also witnessed some reportedly interesting events.
Shortly before I got more sensible I went "fuuuuuuuck. This painting is trite. I hate this place. Let's escape."
Even a dehabilitating head injury could not quell my revolutionary impulses.
The painting in question was a house in a meadow. It was painted in broad, impressionistic strokes, and it was truly a little unnecessary.
It's scary, losing several hours of your memory. For a while there I lost a lot more. I forgot several things that happened over the course of the year.
Everything's back, excluding the hours leading upto and after the crash, but still. That was honestly really scary.
Nick, embed a youtube video of some really sad music here, to really sell this part. Your call on the song.
I forgot things about winter break. Things about this last semester.
I did not forget anything about the Wire.
Or the spelling of chords, I guess. Chris said that one of the only things I consistently knew was chords.
It all came back over the course of the night, thank god. My sister Betsy tried to trick into thinking I owed her $80. Soooooortof a bitch.
I can't excersize for a week and my head hurts like shit, but all in all, things turned out okay.
So that's the past 32 hours of my life. C-Dawg out.
Nick, feel free to title and tag this whatever you want. You're the man.
Tell me when you post that.
Wait, one more thing. I have stats that my friend Becca took while I was in urgent care. When she realized how many times we were going to be having the same
conversations, she started keeping track. Here are the counts.
How long have I been here in this room - IIIIIIIIIIII (12)
How long have I been here in Durango - IIIIIII (7)
What day is it? - IIIIII (6)
My socks are pink - IIIIIII (7)
Should I have this ice on my head - IIII (4)
Have my parents been notified? - II (2)
How did this happen? - IIIIIII (7)
Was anyone with me? - III (3)
When did this happen? - III (3)
Have we had similar conversations? - IIIII (5)
Can I go to sleep? - I (...1)
Can I sit up - III (3)
Is this a real medical concern? - II (2)
I blame myself for what happened - II (2)
I blame my friends for what happened - IIII (4)
Have you posted that shit?