March 2007

Since winter never seemed to fully appear, I’ve decided to cut my losses and think summer! Tuesday I was out enjoying the weather, celebrating my friend Vinny with work friends by going on a road ride with about 30 other REI employees. Doing the road ride on my mountain bike was probably not the best choice, but I managed.

Wednesday I got out to the beach for the first time this year. La Selva was just as empty as usual, and Kristen and I went out, each with our own bottle of Two Buck Chuck. Lots of sun, lots of laughter, a lot of shit talking, and then Sarah came out to join us after work.

Click for incriminating photographic evidence:

This morning some friends and I went to a new-ish local venue, Sky High Sports, which is a warehouse full of trampolines. Yeah, you read that correctly. I’d been to this place before, back when it was an indoor go-kart track. Trust me when I say that trampolines are probably more fun, more dangerous, a better workout, and much cheaper than any go-kart experience could hope to be.

We went on a Friday morning, thinking we’d be the only people there. Instead there were four birthday parties for kids going on. Doesn’t anyone go to school any more? Sheesh. We were quite amused that we would be bounding to and fro, crushing children right and left. (Turns out that approximately 30% of the kids weighed more than I did, so I shouldn’t have worried.) Nine dollars buys an hour of adventure. Holy crap. Have you ever spent an hour on a trampoline? Ten minutes? We paid for 11:30-12:30, but went in at 11:20. At 11:45, we were all pretty ready to die with 45 minutes of paid time remaining. The guys were absolute maniacs, though I’m sure us gals would be more effective if we had more body weight to throw around. Sarah did a flip into the foam pit (breaking the law!) and about 30 minutes later she almost killed a little girl who ran in front of her. That was our morning in a nutshell.

We jumped into the skanky foam pit (not really interested in that again) as well as playing trampoline dodge ball. However, once all the “adults” in our group were out, it was less exciting to whack little kids with the balls. I ended up letting kids hit me so I could tag out and we could get back in line to abuse each other in the next game. All in all, it was amazingly fun. Too bad I’ve broken myself. We’ll see how well I walk tomorrow.

Retro comic book panels whose use of the English language has not kept up with the evolution of the language itself. Hilarity ensues.

Top 15 Unintentionally Funny Comic Book Panels

Other failed yet probably more creative subject lines for this post were:

• Achtung! Der Cows!
• Sunny Is Not Like A Cow
• Paul Is Awesome, Not Dead
• Honeymoon, Eh
• Portland Airport Is Not Better Than Home

Please view our photos. Text to come soon!

I might have to end it. Break it off. What has been a long relationship may soon be over. I’m not sure how much more I can take. This abuse has got to stop.

Dear Stanford Women’s Basketball,

I’ve loved you for years. Since I was a kid. My heroes have been Stanford players. I have autographed Jennifer Azzi shoes, and they’re one of the first things I would rescue if the house was burning down. I went to exhibition games, regular games, post-season games. Sweet Jesus, I rooted for Stanford when Stanford played my alma mater in Stockton.

Stanford is like the abusive relationship I can’t quite get out of. Every time I fall in love again, every time my dear Stanford promises she won’t punch me in the face again, they punch me in the face again. I would stay up when I was in junior high, watching a tiny Sony Watchman under the blankets in my bedroom long after I was supposed to have been in bed. Know why? Because every so often, our local PBS station would air a retrospective on the 1990 championship team, and when it was on, I would soak up every moment. (If someone can find it for me, I’d be eternally in debt.)

Oh! Then there was 1992! Another national championship! But then…rebuilding. Soon there was Kate Starbird, Jamila Wideman, Kristin Folkl, and Vanessa Nygaard. Tara Vanderveer went off to coach the ‘96 Olympic team. Oh, by 1997. It’s going to be a grand year! The gang is back together! The winning will only go on! But an overtime loss to Old Dominion? It was like taking a backhand to the face over and over again by someone wearing knight’s gauntlets. (Don’t believe me? Even Ann Killion weighs in on the pain.) I remember wanting to throw up after that game.

Gah. Then was 1998. Two torn ACLs. The clips that ESPN won’t stop showing. Harvard beating Stanford at Maples Pavilion. The first 16 seed to ever defeat a number one. Watching this one at my parent’s house, I’ve never been so glad to not attend a home game.

It kept going. The suffering.

In 2004, the Cardinal lost the regional final by two points to Tennessee. …

In 2005, Michigan State topped the Cardinal by seven points. Then in 2006, there was a three-point loss to LSU and the controversial charge call near the end against Wiggins.

Oh, yeah, and there’s more. How about the three-point loss to Colorado in the 2002 Sweet 16? The two-point loss to Maine in the first round in 1999? That was a down season for Stanford, which was only seeded No. 7…but Maine was No. 10. (via ESPN and Mechelle Voepel)

Now? Losing at home to Florida State, a team which has never even made the Sweet 16 before? After a career-making performance by Brooke Smith against Idaho State, what we saw was a complete collapse. I’m pretty sure Stanford may hate me personally. They want me to be unhappy.

So I may need a new team. I’m sure I won’t, and I’ll suffer through next year too, because I can’t make a clean break, but I’m sure feeling like I want to. Stanford…I want to love you. Just let me!

[I will blog about the honeymoon in Canada tomorrow.]