That’s how I felt after my 25-plus hour odyssey to get to Breckenridge this weekend. My original plan was to arrive by late afternoon on Friday. However, that didn’t work out (see “Note to Alanis”) and I didn’t get to my hotel until 2 am on Saturday. Another 20 minutes were lost looking for the night desk clerk, but then it was smooth sailing and I was asleep, sort of, by 4 am.

I woke up, again, sort of, at 7 to blue skies and a nose full of grief. The altitude, the remnants of my cold and the stank of the rental car combined to completely congest and disorient me. (Never underestimate the power of smell, and if you don’t know what I mean, read “Jitterbug Perfume” by Tom Robbins.) Add fatigue to that and, well, if someone told me I was at Woodstock, I think I would have believed it.

Saturday is lost in a haze. I know I ate, snowboarded for a few hours, made dinner and slept. But there was no edge to the day, no high or low point. At least the photos I took were a little more in focus.

Hey, Alanis, I know I’m about 15 years too late on this and far from the first person to point this out, but that fly in my chardonnay wasn’t ironic, nor was that rain on my wedding day (though, given the subsequent divorce, it was a harbinger of sad times to come).

But, sitting on this unforgiving carpet covered bench-slash-ledge at the Jet Blue terminal at JFK, it’s hard to miss the irony that my lament for the lack of snow in Maine was finally heard today, heard so well that my flight from Portland to JFK was delayed by snow just long enough to cause me to miss my connection to Denver and plans for snowboarding at Keystone this evening. Yes, Alanis, in that rambling sentence, there is irony: my wish for snow has prevented me from enjoying it.

Now, you’ll have to excuse me, my ass is completely numb from sitting here in the free hotspot Jet Blue provided. If only it could be numb from sitting on a chairlift instead….

P.S. Please forgive me, Alanis, if your intention with Ironic was to write a song that seemed to be about irony but was actually about being unfortunate and therefore ironically named.