If your team picked up a blue Illinois jersey with orange slashes and #6 on the back, it's, well ... ours. So if you picked it up, holler at me. ALSO. If your team picked up a pair of black Nike soccer pants with the #14 on one of the legs, holler. It belongs to a girl who has worn them since the 6th grade.
a. I just want to point this out and say how truly terrifying it is. I know our government makes it a point not to butt into the business of other countries (/sarcasm), but I feel like this warrants some butting.
b. People always ask me why I am nervous about "ghetto" or "gangster" or "urban" themed parties, even though I am very much all of those things and would be incredible at those parties. This is why. Too often, people cross the line, and it's never funny or acceptable. Honestly, I just don't like "racially themed" parties. It's one thing to say "ghetto", but when you make it "black", then that's different. Same with "nerdy". It's fine when it's nerdy, but the minute you decide to call it "Asian", it's not cool. (And some day we can even get together and talk about why these are the automatic racial assumptions) And yes, I was enraged when it was my own school, as well.
c.
d. On a very distantly related note, I feel like a third grader ... and I like it. :D
e. In case you are wondering, a wondrous woman/girl named Sofia Leo found my wallet -- and everything was in it! Apparently I remembered wrong, and I only had $33 in it. Well, all my cards were there and everything! Plus I got into Irwin because there wasn't even anyone there tonight. Suck it!
f. The Illinois Women's Cross Country and Track teams were BOMB at Jock Jams. I wish I had gotten to see the swimming and diving team, because I heard they were gonna do "Single Ladies", which we did not see all night.
g. When people litter ... where do they think their garbage goes? Just something that really annoyed the shit out of me this morning.
___________________________
I know you're all expecting an epic write up of Pres Day, and it's taken me long enough. I don't usually disappoint, but I wanted to point this out before I began:
This write up almost couldn't happen because Illinois almost didn't make it to Pres Day.
Yeah.
Let that one sink in.
(Devastating, right?)
Pre-tournament Thursday was a hectic one. Sometime in the afternoon, in between classes, I got a call from my stalker, Jody. I was in a haze -- I had been sick all week and busy, as usual, and hadn't been getting as much sleep as my battered body wanted. I heard something about text messages, something about Delta, and something about our flights being canceled. There were some times thrown around, and I remember trying to write them down, but honestly, I was just trying to keep my head in the conversation. I hung up and called Delta right away, only to be put on hold for about half an hour. Like I said, the rest of the day was a haze and it was busy as fuck and before I knew it, it was time for our pasta party. Everyone came over around 6:30, and from then on, Apt. 15 became the Panic Room, or the War Room, or even The Situation Room, if you will. There was always at least two people on the phone with Delta at one time, and two laptops on the Delta website. Shit, we even called Delta's help line for Japanese speakers (of course, Risa spoke to them in English)! Practice was effectively canceled, and we were all just scrambling for new flights. Long story short -- after literally HOURS of being on hold and talking to a variety of different Delta employees and clicking on the same two things over and over again, we got flights for everyone. It took until something like 4am, but everyone got on a flight to San Diego, some way or another.
The Rice Rickshaw/The Party Vehicle, better known to you as Allison, was fired up just a short time later, at around 5:55 or so, and we were on our way to pick everyone up at 6am. Baby Amy was the first one picked up, and then we headed over to pick up Rachael Matthews. Little did we know, however, that Rachael had momentarily turned into a black woman. She walked out of the door as Rachael, turned into a black woman for about fifteen seconds, and then opened my car door as Rachael Matthews again. I'm really not kidding. It was hell of bizarre! We then saved the worst for last, Rosenstinkel. Once at Forbes, we expected to see only Rosenstinkel exiting the building. We actually saw two figures walking towards us in the early morning twilight. One tall girl and a shorter girl. We believed this to be Rosenwinkz and the infamous KELLY! I stared them down. It turned out to be Erin Johnson, freshman middle blocker for the Illini, and Tayler Onion. Needless to say, I freaked out. Embarrassing. Rosenstinkz emerged from Forbes literally seconds after EJ and TO walked past my car, with her goofy ass green hood and rolling suitcase. With everyone picked up, we headed down First to get on the highway. Passing Armory, we saw about half of the volleyball team, and I freaked out. I wish you could understand how excited I was, for real. Def. j'ed my p's.
But I digress.
After a hilarious drive to Indy, during which Weezinwinkel kicked the shit out of Margaret's chair, Rachael knew all the words to "Ignition (remix)" and Amy referred to it as the song with "toot toot", and Baby Amy couldn't hold her pee for FIVE MINUTES and made us pull over at a gas station to pee, we arrived at the Indianapolis International Airport. We almost got lost, but used our reading skills to follow signs to the airport. Because we can do shit like READ, we didn't have to follow any shady limos to the airport, as one huff ass Readin'stinkel suggested.
Once in the airport, we made a scene, which greatly distressed Sarah Roscenewinkel. Some n00b ass tricks decided to get in the expert traveler line, and then got searched and whatnot! Pwnt! It was at our gate to Atlanta that we discovered that the Southeast part of the United States was the ONLY spot in the entire country that would be experiencing snow and severe weather that weekend. Great. Awesome. Sweet timing. Rachael and Alexis stayed at Indy for all their crazy connections (Indy --> Minny --> Salt Lake City --> San Diego), while the rest of us (Jizzann, Margaret, Lolz, Lil' Foster, Axis, and Jody) boarded a regional jet to Hotlanta. It was on this flight that Axis was assumed to be pregnant, Jody was carded for being 14 years old and trying to sit in an exit row, Amy mocked my fear of flying, and I basically forced a man to switch seats with me so I could sit next to Lolz for some lulz.
We arrived in Atlanta without a hitch. Upon emerging from the tunnel, the first thing I saw was a Hot Dog Zone. If you know me well, you know that I LOVE hot dogz. Love them. But we had to walk to a totally different terminal for our connecting flight to San Diego, so along we went and I didn't get a dog. When we finally got there, we went in search of some noms. Foster wouldn't let me get any hot dogs and everyone told me how unhealthy it was to eat a dozen donuts, so I got a wrap. It was lame. We sat at this weirdly shaped section of chairs and all fell asleep in random positions. Our flight was delayed by an hour or two because they needed to de-ice the plane and the runway and whatnot, which was fine by us. We passed the time by sleeping, taking pictures of each other sleeping, playing with the NOM NOM NOM garbage cans, and sitting with our legs spread open. We were creeped on by some douchebags, and then it was finally time to board. I was able to switch seats with one of the aforementioned douchebags, who suggested that I could sit behind Margaret and tickle her during the flight, and Axis was able to switch seats with this one caking ass couple. Unfortunately for me, this one drunk ass dude plops down next to me and starts talking about some lesbian he dated in high school and eating beef chunks. It was fucking gross. At one point before takeoff, he also got up, went to the bathroom, and came back with water all over the front of his clothes and his face. He was a mess. We sat on the plane for a long time, finding out about another delay. We were a little discouraged, but just happy to be on a plane that was preparing to take off. A little while later, they told us we had to get off the plane while we waited for a new flight crew, because the old one had timed out. Lame. We get off the plane and get some more noms (waffle friez mmm) before heading back to our campfire area and sleeping some more. Immediately upon waking up, I was greeted by my drunk friend on the plane, which creeped the shit out of me. He even followed me and Lolz to the store when we went to buy sweet, sweet Nyquil. We sat around some more, and they kept pushing our flight time back. We were FINALLY set to take off at 11:30pm. The last flight attendant we were waiting on had finally arrived to some scattered applause around the gate, and as he entered the tunnel, the woman got on the PA and announced very calmly that our flight had been canceled. People were PISSED. We got back on the plane, retrieved our bags, and hightailed it to a new gate, at which we were supposed to rebook our flights.
We get to the line and it is already balls deep. We get in line, sweaty, angry, and agitated. Jody is on the phone with someone from Delta, and the rest of us are calling our parents and letting them know what's up. While in this line, we received overnight kits from Delta because all the hotels in the area are booked up. Included in this overnight kit is an XL white tee that says "SkyCrew". Shit yeah, suckers. The woman on the phone with Jody books us all on a flight from Atlanta back to Indy. She leads us to believe that this flight is on Saturday morning. We believe that we can figure it out once we get back to Indy. We then find out this flight is actually on SUNDAY morning. We flip the fuck out and tell her that we don't want it, but the damage is already done. Half of us move to a new line opening up at a different counter, so we have people in both lines. We are in the new line for maybe about an hour or more. In this time, we begin discussing real plans for how we're going to get to San Diego. Our first idea is to drive from Atlanta to San Diego. As it would have been a 33 hour trip, we decided that probably wasn't going to work out. We then decided that we just wanted to get as far West as possible and then just drive to San Diego from there. We decided we could fly out in small groups of two or three, and have the group with the shortest flight just pick up the other group(s) as they drove West. Then there was our "six groups of one" idea, which was basically just sending six individuals as far West as possible, and then having the person closest to Atlanta just renting a car and picking people up on the way to SD. Shit got desperate. The Delta computer system is apparently not very advanced, and the operator couldn't tell us any cities that were West of Atlanta. Not a joke, I assure you. Anyway, we waited the line out, and finally got to the front. Once there, the woman told us that she couldn't help us because there was no evidence of us going to San Diego in the first place -- she couldn't help us get a flight out there if we were supposed to be going to Indianapolis. Here's the kicker, though. She hands us back the itinerary she's just printed out and tells us to go back out to the main ticketing area, past security. She closes the desk and heads home. We look at the itinerary, and this is what it says, basically:
Sunday: ATL --> Indy
Monday: SD --> LAX --> Indy
So. Somehow, we got from Indy to SD between Sunday and Monday. Not by plane, clearly, but possibly by teleporation. Ah, yes! Teleportation! Makes perfect sense! Fuck you on, Delta?! If I could teleport do you really think I'd be flying on your jankass airline? You are the WORST. That woman really just wanted to go home. Sorry it's your JOB, and sorry that's what you're PAID to do. My BAD for asking that you do your damn job. We didn't attack her or confront her and we weren't rude or obnoxious -- I understand that everyone has bad days and sometimes crazy stressful situations are out of your control, but CLEARLY we meant to go to San Diego. Refusing to help us on the grounds of a fucked up itinerary is just lazy, and I think it's inexcusable, to be quite frank.
BUT ANYWAY.
We brushed off the haters and walked out past security and to the main ticketing area. There was already a huge mass of people, and we got in yet another unmoving line. A lot of phone calls were made as we tried to figure shit out. It was pretty late at this point, probably close to 1am. We had haters telling us that the trip wasn't worth it and we were gonna lose money and whatnot, but fuck it! It's Pres Day 2K10, and I have been waiting for this for MONTHS, even a whole year. Not giving up on that shit! My mom made the mistake of telling me there was a Delta morning flight out of Birmingham to SD, but then tried to make me promise that I wouldn't drive anywhere out of rashness. We started cooking up a new plan, to either get on a direct Delta flight from ATL to SD or LAX, or drive the 150 miles to Birmingham (and convince them to do the flight transfer for free, even though the airport was out of Hartsfield-Jackson's 100 mile radius) and get on that morning flight to SD. Rachel Foster and I held down the fort in line while the others slept by the self ticket machines. Baby Amy would come visit us in line intermittently, and even broke out into hysterical tears at one point. It was ADORABLE. Mature Foster took care of Baby Amy and then Baby Aimz plodded off to the bathroom alone to do "woman things". Lil' Foster and I actually ended up chatting up the other pissed off people around us, and we passed the time in that line, somehow. After about another hour or so of waiting in line, we finally get to the front. Frank Harwath has told Baby Amy what's what about Rules 240 and 245, and we feel like we are armed with enough knowledge to get Delta to give us what we want.
We walked to the open counter and tried to be calm and non-confrontational, even friendly, as we approached this Mr. Fred Dawson. He asked us what he could help us with, and I explained our situation -- that we had arrived in Atlanta via Indy, and were supposed to be on a 4:55pm flight from ATL to SD. That flight got continually delayed and finally canceled, and we needed to be in SD by Saturday morning for a tournament. He asked for my boarding pass and said he'd see what he could do. Rachel Foster and I looked at each other, a little bewildered that this man was ACTUALLY trying to help us. After a few minutes of clicking and typing, he said he had gotten me on a 10am flight from Atlanta to San Diego. I asked him again to repeat the flight information, absolutely INCREDULOUS that he was being so upfront with us. We had been lied to all evening, with every Delta representative we talked to telling us that a. There were no direct flights from ATL to SD, b. That there were no flights to the West Coast out of ATL, and c. That there were no flights going out of ATL period. We had a mini-celebration and told him there were five other girls we needed to get out there. Sensing the urgency of the situation, he asked for all our confirmation numbers before the seats on the flight got all booked up. And honest to God, that was the end of our communication. He left me, Rachel Foster, and Baby Amy at the counter while he went to tap away at another computer and talk on the phone for a bit. He must have left us there for another hour, hour and a half. During this time, we were joined by Margaret, and we played Rosenwinkel-Hangman ("Is it ... *whisper* penis?", _ _ _ _ _ = Sarah/shank, _'_ _ _ _ _ _ _! = c'mon guys!, _ _ _ _ _ _ = HOLLER, etc.), drew different flags, created a H.O.L.L.E.R.Bot, created Sarah emoticons, drew emoticon penises, and made a shit ton of that's what she said jokes. We sat on the scale and weighed ourselves, did plyos, and imagined what we would do when Fred Dawson came back. After a long wait, he came back, and informed us that we were all on flights to San Diego the next day! Unfortunately we were not all together, but shit, we would take anything at that point! He handed us our boarding passes and we rejoiced! Baby Amy, who had gone back to the pile of sleeping refugees, heard our ruckus and came running to us, and we all embraced, creating a scene that would make Sarah rosenwinkel herself with embarrassment. It was incredible.
We happily walked all the way back to our terminal and set up camp for the night at around 3:30am or something like that. It was cold and the ground was hard, and the paper thin blankets Delta provided us with did little to protect us from the elements. Although I woke up a few times throughout the night and day, I am proud to say that overall I slept through that shit like a champion. One guy with a weird accent tried to talk to me and Foster before we went to bed and we couldn't understand a word of what he said. I was pretty sure he was going to gut me in my sleep. Then in the morning when I woke up, some woman sitting next to our little sleeping circle started talking to me, and told me to go back to sleep. An hour or so later I woke up again, and some guy smacked me with his newspaper and told me to go back to sleep. It was bizarre and I was a little bit offended, but I obliged. Finally, when it was getting too bright and too loud for me to stay asleep, I opened my bleary eyes to see my stalker walking towards me. Jode said she had checked our flight and it had been delayed and was at another terminal in the airport. We packed up our shit yet again and moved to a different terminal. Foster and I were starting to get hit with reality -- we were going to get on a flight that afternoon, fly to San Di-freakin'-ego, and then PLAY. We changed into our jerseys at the airport and painted our nails Tourney Week Black. When it finally came time to board, I could hardly believe it. We got in our seats, and they actually closed the doors, and we ACTUALLY pulled out of the gate, and then we ACTUALLY took off. It was fucking surreal! I slept for about half of the plane ride, and read Richard Fung's piece on gay Asian porn for the rest of the ride. It made my neighbor more than a little uncomfortable.
Foster and I finally arrive in San Diego, which neither of us can really believe. While we wait for my checked baggage to arrive, we did some stretching and plyos by the baggage carousel. People were looking at us like freaks, but we were just giddy to actually be in San Diego. Cathy came to pick us up, and then it actually started to hit me -- I was going to be PLAYING in about 20 minutes. It was unbelievable. The whole ride there, I was just trying to prepare myself -- putting my contacts on, getting my leg braces on, getting my stuff ready. Mentally, I was all over the place. A big part of me was still in Atlanta, still stuck in Hartsfield-Jackson. Part of me was in a haze, part of me didn't believe it was real at all, thought I was in a dream.Right as Cathy pulled up to the fields and stopped the car, I literally jumped my ass out and started vomiting. Not even joking. I don't know who was playing in the near field (I think it was Carleton?), but I hope my heaving and vomiting didn't gross anyone out. The vomit was clear because of the lack of food consumption over the past day. I was a tad worried about how I was supposed to play in less than 20 minutes, but eager to get to my teammates and cleat up.
Foster and I walked across the fields to get to the game our teammates were currently in against Arizona. We got there and saw them playing pretty well, and savage at that. We were amped up to be there, but it still didn't feel like "real life". We were like David After Dentist, only it was Team Girlfriend After Atlanta. We forfeited the Cal game because we didn't even have 7 players yet. We missed the UCSB game and the Arizona game, which our teammates played savage. It looked like they were doing pretty well, too. Foster and I actually got to play for the Western Washington game. I keep using this word, but it's true -- everything was so surreal. On the first play of the game, I get taken for a ride and my girl scores on me deep. My head is in the clouds. Normally I would be mad about that kind of thing, but I really wasn't, mostly because I wasn't really there. Second play of the game, I make an in cut and am wide open for an under. I jump up to get the disc and pancake it at my chest, but I drop it immediately. The disc hitting me in my hands was too real. It was like, SHIT I'm actually here, I'm *actually* playing right now. It was so weird. The rest of the game is honestly a blur. We had trouble playing man D against their deep cuts, so we switched to a clam, which worked for a bit. We were getting the turns we wanted, but our offense just wasn't working. Whenever we made those turns, we didn't get the disc back because Chaos would score it. Just like that, the day of playing ended just as quickly as it began for me and Foster.
After we hit the showers, we headed out to meet all three of Cathy's friends from college for dinner. We went to an absolutely delicious Japanese ramen place. The other car went MIA for a while, but we were so hungry we didn't care that much (sorry 'bout it). After dinner, we all headed back to Katie Kessler's house and set up our bed areas. Unfortunately, I discovered that I had had Cathy lug my inflatable mattress all the way to California all for naught -- there was a huge hole in my mattress and it really did little to no good. It basically just acted as a thin (but thicker than paper thin, thankfully) layer between me and the floor. Oh well. I was sleeping next to Foster and Rosensleepz so I was happy. Before we hit the sack, the other group of Friendship Refugees finally arrived. Finally reunited, our team went to bed, excited for a day of ultimate where our whole team (read: 13 people) would be present.
I woke up that morning to Rosenwinkel spooning the shit out of Rachel Foster. I was a little jealous. Whatev.
We arrived at the fields, ready for "real life", ready to actually play. Our first game was against Texas. From the get-go, we had issues on D. Basically, we couldn't play it to save our lives. We were letting them get deep on us a lot, and we were hardly challenging them on the in-cuts. We couldn't keep a mark either, which didn't help. I honestly can't even remember offense. Anyway, we spent a lot of time talking about our D. We focused super hard on making sure they couldn't get their deep shots off, and as the game progressed we got a LOT better about it. We were recognizing their plays and trying to call switches and helps, and even though we got blown out 2-13, we definitely learned a lot about the work we have to do on shoring up our defense and our marks. While I was taking a trip back to kindergarten, I guess Texas gave us a Valentine. Whoever has it should give it to Apt. 15 so we can hang it up in our apartment next to the Christmas card they gave us. It's always fun playing Texas because you can expect them to be competitive but still very pleasant people at the same time.
Next up we had Sonoma State. Didn't know too much about this team. I think our D was better this game than it was in the last, even though I think they scored the first few points on a couple deep bombs. We started matching up against this team a little bit better and I think it was a lot more even from there. Honestly, like usual, I'm never quite sure of what happens in games or what the score is or anything like that, I just get real caught up in playing. It was either in this game or the Texas game that Lil' Foster had two RIDICULOUS bids. I mean, just FILTHY. Margaret also had some nice upline layout grabs. Unfortunately I think the story of this game was unfortunate turnovers. That is something we MUST work on. Just stupid little things that we need to make better decisions on. There was one play where Margaret hucked it deep to me, it bladed right past my defender's face (whew) and I caught it just outside the goal. A couple passes later, we turned it. On the goal line. Ouch. The game got capped and I think we ended the game with a score? I think it was the backhand huck (the first nice backhand I have ever thrown in a game ever) from me to Bess in the endzone. D'Vine (HA GET IT!) won, 10-6. Just wanted to give a shout out to Maggie from Sonoma State, who made some just ludicrous layout grabs. She was definitely a stand out for them and it was fun matching up with her.
Our last game of the day was against UC Davis. Apparently this was our closest game of the weekend. It's kind of a blur to me, actually, as most of these games are, but they played a lot of zone and so did we, as there was some crosswind action going on. We had a cup of Becca, Risa, and Axis, who were troupers for playing every zone line we threw. Foster had a layout intimidation D as middle middle. We made a couple of very stupid turns on swing throws that just went too wide or dropped too soon or were just lasers. Blurgh. Anyway, don't remember very many specific plays. I do remember one where Axis made a desperation dump to me that literally brushed past my defender's cheek. None of us made a peep and there was no up call. THANK GOD. We scored that point, happy to say. I had to call injury, CCC-style yet again. My right leg was cramping up mad style and it wasn't happy times. I was able to get back on the field, which UCD was super confused about, lulz they thought something worse had happened. My team knows I am just a shit show like that. But anyway, we lost this one 6-9.
We hit the showers and Rosenwinkel hits me up for Sharkies. She would, but I share with her because she's my best friend. We then head to In-N-Out, my love. Even though Bess' car takes a supposed short cut and leaves way before the other two cars leave, we both arrive there first. I devour everything I order, covered in spread. I use all the extra spread he gives me, and I eat Cathy's spread too. It is just simply orgasmic. I begin to learn about Sarah Rosenwinkel's life and her athletic prowess as a DI cross country stud. She left the game because she was too fast for Angela Bizzarri and needed a real challenge in life, so she joined the Ultimate Frisbee Fight Club. I began to learn more about the other young ladies we had recruited this year, and thus began our wonderful Sunday night conversation. We talked about a lot of stuff, from college decisions to baseball to free shit to stuff we did in high school. When we got to Katie's house, half the group went to nerd it up, and the cool kids stayed at The Love Shack. We began an incredible and super long conversation about religion and morality, and somehow it ended with Rosenstinkz arguing with me about whether or not she could beat me in a fight. She said she has a body like a cat (then demonstrated this), and then it got awkward. We worked on our SkyTeam shirts, and I wrote "kiss" instead of "kind". Idiot. Should have just paid Foster to make my shirt *sigh*. Anyway, it was time for bed and Tharah put her retainer in. We made a thene about it. We are such terrible frienths. The NyQuil knocked me the shit out. Or maybe it was the excitement of sleeping next to my best friend! Probably the latter.
Monday morning was painful. I definitely did not want to get up. The opposite of taka. Very much the opposite. Anyway, we started packing our shit up and the sad announcement was made that a few people would have to go to the airport early because we didn't have the cars to take everyone home. Rachael "Beej" Matthews agreed to go to the airport. Bless her heart. We still needed one more person. We decide that we will pick numbers. We ask Cathy to pick a number from 1-25. As we are about to say what numbers we picked, Sarah "Best Friend Ever" Weezinstinkel volunteers to go to the airport early, as she is one of the only people who did not spend forever at the airport. I love her. We then ask Cathy out of curiosity what number she had picked. She had picked 25. I WAS GOING TO PICK 25. She hates me.
We head to the fields to discover that we have been sent to the satellite fields. Whoo! We head back to our cars and drive over. We are already a little late, and we all start moving to get food and to get our cleats on. After having nightmares about it and e-mailing the listserv about it before we left, I hardcore pulled a RACH and left my cleats in Cathy's car, which had returned to the main fields to take Risa to get taped. My life. Is a mess.
Cathy dropped my cleats off and I got to warming up a bit. Turns out we were playing Sonoma State again, but this time without Maggie, who was sadly out with a shoulder injury. We got geared up to play them and Cathy and Risa arrived just as our game was about to start. Unlike the Davis game, this actually *felt* like our closest game of the weekend. The first play I remember is the deep bomb from Margaret to me. She put a lot of juice behind the boost and I was busting ass to catch up with the disc. I reach out with my left hand, lay out, and grab it in the endzone. As I'm sliding in the endzone, my left arm starts to drag behind me and the disc is knocked out by the ground. I just kind of lay there in defeat. Sadness. In any case, I believe we put some points up on the board pretty quick. We actually played pretty well to start off. They tried throwing zone on us but we were doing a really awesome job of being patient and making good swings, and waiting for the perfect moment to move the disc upfield. Our poppers and rails did a great job of getting open and being ready for the quick dishes. Our zone O looked pretty good, if I can say so. Axis made two really heads up grabs in the endzone in traffic, at least one of them on a desperation throw. Margaret was a great matchup against the short haired handler on Sonoma, and was making her life pretty difficult. In the end, though, this game was lost on more stupid little mistakes. It was just a LOT of stupid little throw aways and drops. I wish I could take them all back, I really do, because I think we could have won the game. Sonoma went on this run that really just swung the momentum for them, and we couldn't get our shit together enough to win the game. In the end, we lost 7-13. It was disappointing. It ended on a bitter note for me. Due to some double-cutting confusion, I threw to a cutter who wasn't where I thought she'd be. Then I turned around and got broken on the goal line for the game winning score. Boom, self. This is kind of like when UCSD scored on DGP last year in pre-quarters on a deep goal caught over the extended reach of yours truly. Feels good to end Pres Day like that two years in a row. I'm the worst.
Anyway, our last game of the day should have been against Claremont, but they forfeited, so we "technically" didn't end the tournament on a winless note. Cool, I guess.We took a bunch of adorable team pictures, Team Girlfriend pictures were adorable, Baby Amy loped around, Margaret and Amy shanked the shit out of each other, Foster gave me a piggy back ride, 12:21 took some of the cutest photos in existence, and Rosenstinkel and I took some adorable best friend photos. It was fun.
We then showered and headed to the BEACH because we are sad, sad Midwesterners who don't get to see it about three months out of the year, and even when we do see it, it's not the ocean. Bess' car almost died before we even got to dig our toes in the sand, but praise be to Sam Hill they were not all killed (not quite sure how that was avoided). We were able to make it all the way to the beach through a lot of obstacles without too many incidents, except Cathy got the shit shanked out of her by a rock because she fell. Boom roasted. Holler. Anyway, this caused her to take it from behind from the ocean because she thought it would make her feel better. I'm not sure if it did or not. We ran around on the beach and made a scene. We shouted, Sarah and I took more best friend photos, I cried like a baby(amy) because the salt water was stinging my cuts, and we frolicked in the water and sand. We stopped this super reluctant woman who took a super quick photo for us. It was cute. Unfortunately, the early car had to leave at that point. Yet another person asked us what sort of team we were. I explained it kindly. Amy and I threw for a bit. We looked badass. Then we played flutterguts, Team Awesome vs. Team Somethingorother. Margaret, Axis, and I (basically Team Asia) vs. Foster, Jody, and Amy. We won because they forfeited even though they were up 6-2. Axis was our MVP.
After that rousing game that went on for about two hours too long, we headed back to PB for some sushi and packing. It was a glorious day in San Diego and we greatly enjoyed our walk through PB to PB Sushi. We arrived and they gave us the same table as last year (of course). We all gorged on fresh fish, gyoza, and mochi. Soooo delicious. Unfortunately, we found ourselves running a bit late, so we kind of had to hurry back to Katie's house. Once there, she serenaded us with some Bob Marley and we presented our favorite Honorary Menace member with an old-school Menace jersey. We packed up our shit and headed to the airport with some great food in our bellies and a lot of great laughs and memories from the weekend.
Once at the airport, we discovered that Delta had once again fucked up all our shit, and Team Girlfriend Row was broken up. It was supposed to be Margaret (6A), Me (6B), Foster (6C), and Matthews (6D). *sigh* Somehow I ended up next to Margaret and Axis, and Foster was one row behind us, next to the bathroom. Holler. Anyway, at the airport, one of the coaches from Oregon came over and chatted us up. She told us they had won, and asked how we did. We politely tried to figure out a way to avoid saying that we had lost all our games (shame). Anyway, she was cool and said she'd see us at Centex. We walked out and boarded the plane. I'm glad those of us who didn't walk on the designated path didn't get plowed by an airplane (because we wouldn't have heard or seen it coming, of course). Anyway, I embarrassed the shit out of myself when I asked the flight attendant (for Margaret) if they had beverage service on the flight. She said no, but she could personally deliver us water. And she did. We are amazing. We ate fruit gummies and sharks, Margaret pulled out her stanky cleats, a lot of touching occurred, and we annoyed the shit out of the two people in front of us. Whatevs. It was only a 25 minute flight. Anyway, we get to LAX and prepare for our last layover of the trip. We grab one long bench for all of us. I take my pants off (of course) and lounge about. Some people wander about and purchase food. I chatted up Foster, and then Baby Amy and I went through Rachael Matthews' Human Sexuality book and giggled at dirty pictures. She caught us doing this. It was embarrassing, but not really.
Then it was finally time for us to board the plane. Last flight of the trip, praise be to Betsy Brkich. I ended up one row in front of Matthews, and she was one row in front of Foster. The lady sitting next to Matthews asked if I wanted to switch seats with her, so I did. Yessss. Even though most of the flight was asleep, there was lots of girlfriend conversation happening between me and Matthews. We stayed awake until the ginger ale and cookies came (delicious), and then we peed (simultaneously, obviously) and went to sleep. We arrived in Indy close to 6am or so. We somehow made it back to our car (even though we had forgotten where we had parked it) and Baby Amy and I braved the early morning darkness, black ice, and the temptation to fall asleep to carry everyone home safely in Allison. We also had many a wonderful conversation, and I'm sure Amy said "dirty" more than once. Adorable.
Anyway, Pres Day 2K10 was quite a journey. We didn't win any games, but our team definitely grew closer in so many ways. You could say that we built a really strong 'ship that carried us all to San Diego and back. The weather was amazing, the ultimate was competitive and fun, and the food was the best. There were great conversations and most of all, great laughs. It was definitely a huge struggle to even get to San Diego, but we got there somehow, and I think that despite all of that, everyone would say that we had a great time. The Psychos put on yet another great tournament and were gracious hosts. I think I must have called Jane about six times on Friday night about our travel situation, and she was just super helpful and very understanding. Then there was Katie, who housed THIRTEEN of us in her house.
Ah, Pres Day.
Yet another memorable weekend, in the best and worst of ways.
HOLLER.
My thoughts:
- I still can't believe we got to San Diego. Although it was not the worst airport experience I've ever had (the worst being the seven days I spent at Hong Kong International Airport when I was in high school ... HORRID), it is definitely one I will remember for all the frustration, tears, anger, and depression ... but also for all the laughter, somehow.
- A(t)lanta: In the future, I just want you to know that 1-2 inches is not a massive snow storm. I know you don't usually get snow and all that, but I think calling it a massive, unmanageable snow storm was an overreaction on your part.
- Delta: You can expect that I will NEVER choose your carrier ever again. Just saying. American, what up.
- Fred Dawson needs to win employee of the century for Delta Airlines. That man is MAGICAL. Bless his heart.
- In-N-Out is the love of my life. I thought that after eating it every day this past summer (and I mean that, we ate there literally every day) I would grow sick of it. But I didn't. And the sweet, sweet reunion between In-N-Out and my mouth was glorious. I got three packets of extra spread. I guess more specifically, spread is the love of my life. But goodness, what is it gonna take for them to move out east? C'mon guys!
- Kudos to the girls who played savage on Saturday morning. That shit suckssss.
- Saw Lisa, a Shanghai teammate, at Pres Day (she currently plays for UCSB). I love how small our ultimate world is. :D
- Cathy has friends lulz.
Quotes of the Weekend
- "So I think my little brother's gay." Jody
- "I've spent 16 hours working the same two fingers trying to make you happy." Jizzann
- "I am the prefix to the DEVIL." security guard on the telephone at Hartsfield-Jackson
- "C'mon, guys!" Sarah Rosenwinkel
- "HOLLER." Sarah Rosenstinkel
- "You're such an antagonist!" Sarah Weezinwinkel
- "Don't make a scene!" Sarah Weezinstinkel
- the entirety of this text message conversation I had with Textinstinkel before we left:
Sarah: Holler!!!
me: how "urban" of you? and why are you still up? getting wasted with kelly?
Sarah: Why am i still up? Buttload of homework. Actually im applying for a scholarship. And no, not getting wasted right now. Sigh. Alcohol would be very nice right now. Kelly says hello.
me: hey kelly, soooo lucky you get to live with rosenwinkel!
Sarah: Not gonna tell her that. She already knows.
me: wow. cocky much? i mean, you're right, who WOULDN'T feel lucky to live with you, but you just aren't modest are ya?
Sarah: If i remember correctly, you were the one who suggested that kelly was very lucky to live with me! So suck on that Joann!! Holler.
me: holler. (i can't wait to meet kelly when i visit forbes 439.)
Sarah: You mean KELLY! And you have an open invite to visit. I am sure she would love to meet you seeing as i talk about you about 24 hours a day. Or more. Since you and i are best friends.
Things I Learned from Pres Day 2K10
1. Delta is THE WORST. On that note: Teleportation is completely possible. Or at least Delta Airlines seems to think so.
2. Hotlanta? Not so much. Not only did Atlanta receive a whole dusting of snow that weekend, and I mean dusting in the most literal sense, the aforementioned pathetic dusting shut down Hartsfield-Jackson, the busiest airport in the U.S. *applause*
3. There is no beverage service on 25-minute flights from San Diego to Los Angeles. Who the shit knew this?
4. In order to run 4:30 warmup miles, Division I cross country studs eat Sour Straws at 9 in the morning. Then they beat one of their best friends (but not their BEST friend), Angela Bizzarri, in mile races. Real talk. And if these aforementioned DI xc studs are injured, say they have rolled their ankle or something, they could still run 4:55 warmup miles. Just saying.
5. I'm getting married to Johnny Rosenwinkel. Excited? Yes. This means not only is Sarah Rosenwinkel my BEST FRIEND, but she will also be FAMILY!!1!
6. Never, EVER reject a Party Van/Party Limo idea, especially if someone else is paying for it. 33 hours to San Diego? I don't give a fuck!
7. The first 'T' in Atlanta is silent.
8. Your baggage will go to your final destination. Your baggage will not be in Alanta.Whatever it says as your final destination on your boarding pass is where your baggage will go. Sorry for the inconvenience. ("Inconvenience my ass!" Nice comeback, Horrid Woman Who Antagonized the Second Nicest Delta Guy Behind Fred Dawson)
9. It is completely necessary to be aware of the traffic around you when you're attempting to parallel park. You may or may not kill everyone in your car if you are not careful. This is provided of course, that the other people in your car are even paying attention/care about their safety. Heavens to Betsy.
10. The best kind of ship is FRIENDSHIP.
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