Well, let me tell you. It sucks. Bad.
This past weekend I was at the fabulous and legendary BlogHer '11 Conference right here in sunny San Diego. And, man, was it legendary. The parties, the flashmobs, the swag. It was crazy.
My carpool lovingly dropped me off at my door at about 2 PM Sunday. The hubs was sleeping (what?) and the girls were phantom sleeping. By this I mean they were "supposed" to be napping and weren't. After a little dig through the swag, the hubs awakens and we take off with a small amount of prep to the pool at my sister-in-law's apartment complex. It was hot here, after all. I was going to be left behind to sleep in silence, but I wanted to go! I was tired but I needed a dip, too. And I missed my girls and guy. We go. We frolic. We change and leave, deciding to get some drive thru Panda's on the way home. The hubs drove because I was so tired, and we have that rule... the one that says, whoever drives controls the radio.
Holy Jumpin' Jehosephat. If I could have reached through that radio and lynched Ted Leitner, I think I would have.
Don't get me wrong. I like baseball. I like all the balls, really. But I am an In Real Life kinda gal. I like to actually BE at the game and see the subtle goings-on around the game. It's probably the Athletic Trainer in me. Who's icing early? Who's adjusting what? Who got hurt and what's wrong and where is he gonna go now? Who got a cleat in the face? That type of stuff.
|SEE? A 2.5 yo and a 7 mo old at a Padre's game!|
Let me also note, my hubs is H-core into sports. Great, I like them too. But I also adore cheesy 80's music and Top 40 media skewed hits. Just as he adores ESPN 24/7 and Antiques Roadshow, I am in love with smutty reality TV and serial teledramas. There has to be a balance, right??
And when one has been at a "conference" for three days full of disco and wine, a little silence never sounded so good.