It's been a very busy time for WTM. Recently, I went to a conference for the real job (you know, the one that pays - not this one. This one only has non-tangible benefits such as sharing the exploits of my family so that you can understand or sympathize or just feel better about yourself.) This conference was in San Francisco, a city I had never visited.
Much goes into the preparation for the Mama to leave. Beyond the normal packing, checking in for flights, and attempting to keep the look of glee and anticipation off my face as I somberly assure El Hubbo and the munchkins that I will miss them greatly, there are the other preparations that must take place: (1) Review schedule for all available sight-seeing opportunities (2) Research restaurant options (3) Develop entertainment agenda (4) Draft schedule and contact information for El Hubbo to attempt to keep up with a fraction of what his wife does on a weekly basis.
This last item is critical. It was especially critical going into this trip as upon my return, we would immediately turn around and leave on a Boy Scout camping trip. I drafted extensive notes, left explicit directions for tasks to be accomplished each day, paper clipped all necessary supplementary information to said directions/notes, and neatly placed it all in one location for easy access. I reviewed the notes and supplementary items with El Hubbo, and he assured me he understood and not to worry, it would be done. (He may have thrown in there an "Aye, Aye, Captain!")
Here is where I may digress to explain the differences between El Hubbo and my approach to organization. I map everything out, know what must be done and by when, make sure it is all written down so that nothing is forgotten and mark out items as they are accomplished. El Hubbo wings it. If he ever approached any project with an actual written plan, I'm pretty sure the apocalypse would occur. This is a source of the majority of arguments between us. My timeline is tight, don't mess with the plan, keep up or face my wrath. I'm pretty sure he occasionally intentionally throws the plan off schedule just to get even with me for something. He's diabolical that way.
Back to the story.....so the day of my departure arrived. El Hubbo has a contest, so he leaves early. Jake has a soccer game, so I get him up and off we go. I should note that I wear the team mom shirt. Finish game, rush home, finish packing, feed kids, load up, drop kids at contest with El Hubbo. I tried not to peel out and leave tire marks as I headed to the airport.
The flights to Vegas and then San Fran were fairly uneventful. The fun part began as we attempted to figure out how the public transportation system worked. We had BART train tickets that the conference organization assured us would take us right down to our hotels. Well, it did, almost. We exit the train, with all of our luggage, haul it upstairs (no easy feat when your checked bag weighed in a 45 lbs. and your carry on was close to that.) Upon exiting the station, we realized we were no longer in Kansas. Or, Texas, rather. Looking about for hotel, all we could see were street performers, homeless people, and hookers. We walked a bit in search of our hotel, but after a few minutes of breathing in the local aroma of San Francisco (aka pot, marijane, etc.), we were oddly hungry. We ate, then I searched for someone who looked as though they had bathed within the last week and asked for directions. Unfortunately, while the individual may have bathed, apparently they had been overcome by the second-hand marijuana smoke and sent us down a rabbit hole......to a very bad part of town. Again, with our luggage in tow. As the gang members sized us up to see what we were worth, we quickly retraced our steps back to the relative safety of our homeless, but mellow, pot-smoking friends. We asked more people for directions, and then realized that maybe our technological resources were not being fully utilized to our advantage. Yep, we finally pulled out our smartphones and used the Google maps app. Again, in our defense, it had been a long day, we were tired and semi-high as this point.
We finally find our hotels. We had the majority of the next day to fill, and we braved the BART to go to a baseball game in Oakland. The A's got tromped by the Tigers, but it was a beautiful day for baseball. I made two new old men friends on the BART. They gave me to low-down on the stadium, the history of Oakland, some sight-seeing tips, etc. One of my new friends periodically found us at our seats and took to waving to me often. Almost uncomfortably often. As in I now refer to him as "My Old Man Stalker".
We made it back to our hotels relatively uneventfully, and the remainder of the day was spent on conference duties. Monday brought more conference stuff....I'd tell you in detail, but I'm pretty sure it would bore you. Finished at 5:00 and had my travel companions, who by now had taken to calling me "Julie, the cruise director", ready for another adventure. We made our way to the pier for a night cruise of Alcatraz - which, I must say, is EXCELLENT. Spooky, weird, and all things morbidly fascinating. Saw the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridge. Tuesday was more conferencing, followed only by dinner as we are old and need to rest. The conference wrapped up midday on Wednesday, but we had to wait for Thursday for a flight home. So, the afternoon was spent shopping and sight-seeing on the Fisherman's Wharf, followed by dinner in ChinaTown. (Shout out to the Oriental Pearl - AWESOME meal!) In summary: lots of walking, lots of hills, and lots of Advil required for my knees. All day Thursday was spent in traveling back to Texas.
Needless to say - tired was an understatement. Upon arriving home, I looked around in dismay - it appeared an F5 tornado had come through. I managed to unearth the notes and instructions - only partially completed. And, we were leaving the next day on a Boy Scout camping trip - and nothing was packed or ready. The Captain was about to make someone walk the plank.
I arose the next day, on California time, sore from lugging tons of souvenirs, and packed three of us for the trip. Oh yeah, did I mention that on the phone, literally across the country, El Hubbo informs me that he didn't realize he had contest the Saturday of the camping trip. So, he wouldn't be camping with us on Friday. My mental telepathy powers are pretty good, and I'm pretty sure you can imagine the messages I was conveying to him.
So, that evening, El Hubbo drives me and the munchkins out to the camp, helps set up the tent, and had there been a paved road on which to peel-out, I'm pretty sure he would have. I know I heard him laughing all the way back to town. So in less than two days I have gone from having a nice, comfy bed in a hotel, all to myself, to sleeping on a cot in the freezing cold, with two little ones who took turns waking me up for various reasons. And I got to sleep on that cot for two nights. In the cold. In the wind/blowing sand. Numerous activities took place, all apparently requiring uphill walks and climbs. El Hubbo rejoined us for some of the Saturday activities, and got the pleasure of sleeping on a cot for one night.
Sunday morning, we broke camp. Filthy, tired, and with swollen knees we returned to Lubbock just in time to shower and go to church. I am not completely convinced that I will ever fully recover from last week - I still have one very swollen knee. Which should make the 5K I am committed to walking in this next Saturday very interesting.
So, that's what I've been doing, how about you?
Much goes into the preparation for the Mama to leave. Beyond the normal packing, checking in for flights, and attempting to keep the look of glee and anticipation off my face as I somberly assure El Hubbo and the munchkins that I will miss them greatly, there are the other preparations that must take place: (1) Review schedule for all available sight-seeing opportunities (2) Research restaurant options (3) Develop entertainment agenda (4) Draft schedule and contact information for El Hubbo to attempt to keep up with a fraction of what his wife does on a weekly basis.
This last item is critical. It was especially critical going into this trip as upon my return, we would immediately turn around and leave on a Boy Scout camping trip. I drafted extensive notes, left explicit directions for tasks to be accomplished each day, paper clipped all necessary supplementary information to said directions/notes, and neatly placed it all in one location for easy access. I reviewed the notes and supplementary items with El Hubbo, and he assured me he understood and not to worry, it would be done. (He may have thrown in there an "Aye, Aye, Captain!")
Here is where I may digress to explain the differences between El Hubbo and my approach to organization. I map everything out, know what must be done and by when, make sure it is all written down so that nothing is forgotten and mark out items as they are accomplished. El Hubbo wings it. If he ever approached any project with an actual written plan, I'm pretty sure the apocalypse would occur. This is a source of the majority of arguments between us. My timeline is tight, don't mess with the plan, keep up or face my wrath. I'm pretty sure he occasionally intentionally throws the plan off schedule just to get even with me for something. He's diabolical that way.
Back to the story.....so the day of my departure arrived. El Hubbo has a contest, so he leaves early. Jake has a soccer game, so I get him up and off we go. I should note that I wear the team mom shirt. Finish game, rush home, finish packing, feed kids, load up, drop kids at contest with El Hubbo. I tried not to peel out and leave tire marks as I headed to the airport.
The flights to Vegas and then San Fran were fairly uneventful. The fun part began as we attempted to figure out how the public transportation system worked. We had BART train tickets that the conference organization assured us would take us right down to our hotels. Well, it did, almost. We exit the train, with all of our luggage, haul it upstairs (no easy feat when your checked bag weighed in a 45 lbs. and your carry on was close to that.) Upon exiting the station, we realized we were no longer in Kansas. Or, Texas, rather. Looking about for hotel, all we could see were street performers, homeless people, and hookers. We walked a bit in search of our hotel, but after a few minutes of breathing in the local aroma of San Francisco (aka pot, marijane, etc.), we were oddly hungry. We ate, then I searched for someone who looked as though they had bathed within the last week and asked for directions. Unfortunately, while the individual may have bathed, apparently they had been overcome by the second-hand marijuana smoke and sent us down a rabbit hole......to a very bad part of town. Again, with our luggage in tow. As the gang members sized us up to see what we were worth, we quickly retraced our steps back to the relative safety of our homeless, but mellow, pot-smoking friends. We asked more people for directions, and then realized that maybe our technological resources were not being fully utilized to our advantage. Yep, we finally pulled out our smartphones and used the Google maps app. Again, in our defense, it had been a long day, we were tired and semi-high as this point.
We finally find our hotels. We had the majority of the next day to fill, and we braved the BART to go to a baseball game in Oakland. The A's got tromped by the Tigers, but it was a beautiful day for baseball. I made two new old men friends on the BART. They gave me to low-down on the stadium, the history of Oakland, some sight-seeing tips, etc. One of my new friends periodically found us at our seats and took to waving to me often. Almost uncomfortably often. As in I now refer to him as "My Old Man Stalker".
We made it back to our hotels relatively uneventfully, and the remainder of the day was spent on conference duties. Monday brought more conference stuff....I'd tell you in detail, but I'm pretty sure it would bore you. Finished at 5:00 and had my travel companions, who by now had taken to calling me "Julie, the cruise director", ready for another adventure. We made our way to the pier for a night cruise of Alcatraz - which, I must say, is EXCELLENT. Spooky, weird, and all things morbidly fascinating. Saw the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridge. Tuesday was more conferencing, followed only by dinner as we are old and need to rest. The conference wrapped up midday on Wednesday, but we had to wait for Thursday for a flight home. So, the afternoon was spent shopping and sight-seeing on the Fisherman's Wharf, followed by dinner in ChinaTown. (Shout out to the Oriental Pearl - AWESOME meal!) In summary: lots of walking, lots of hills, and lots of Advil required for my knees. All day Thursday was spent in traveling back to Texas.
Needless to say - tired was an understatement. Upon arriving home, I looked around in dismay - it appeared an F5 tornado had come through. I managed to unearth the notes and instructions - only partially completed. And, we were leaving the next day on a Boy Scout camping trip - and nothing was packed or ready. The Captain was about to make someone walk the plank.
I arose the next day, on California time, sore from lugging tons of souvenirs, and packed three of us for the trip. Oh yeah, did I mention that on the phone, literally across the country, El Hubbo informs me that he didn't realize he had contest the Saturday of the camping trip. So, he wouldn't be camping with us on Friday. My mental telepathy powers are pretty good, and I'm pretty sure you can imagine the messages I was conveying to him.
So, that evening, El Hubbo drives me and the munchkins out to the camp, helps set up the tent, and had there been a paved road on which to peel-out, I'm pretty sure he would have. I know I heard him laughing all the way back to town. So in less than two days I have gone from having a nice, comfy bed in a hotel, all to myself, to sleeping on a cot in the freezing cold, with two little ones who took turns waking me up for various reasons. And I got to sleep on that cot for two nights. In the cold. In the wind/blowing sand. Numerous activities took place, all apparently requiring uphill walks and climbs. El Hubbo rejoined us for some of the Saturday activities, and got the pleasure of sleeping on a cot for one night.
Sunday morning, we broke camp. Filthy, tired, and with swollen knees we returned to Lubbock just in time to shower and go to church. I am not completely convinced that I will ever fully recover from last week - I still have one very swollen knee. Which should make the 5K I am committed to walking in this next Saturday very interesting.
So, that's what I've been doing, how about you?
Hahahahahahaha! Scout camping is enough to make any sensible person go insane. If you can hang on until age 12, they can camp without a parent. Good luck on that! I didn't need to hear such detail about SF as Ryan leaves tomorrow for SF and your SAME itinerary!! Ya'll can share pot stories in July. Wait! What am I saying???????
ReplyDelete