Eric is one step closer to Team USA...check this out.
Hopefully we'll be in Manchester a little over a year from now!
And now off to Denver with the puppy for the weekend.
Showing posts with label not so everyday adventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label not so everyday adventures. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
In The News...
One City Lacrosse made the San Francisco Chronicle this weekend. Check out the article here...
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Newest in the Norfolk Case
The Norfolk police and media keep getting better. Last night, one of the friends of Eric's friend had his mugshot on the local evening news in conjunction with the stabbing case. This friend had been charged with "public drunkenness" and made the news because he is the son of city council woman/Norfolk judge. The report from the news station is here.
Yet again, the police succeed in screwing things up. The police spokesperson continues to tell the media that the injuries were not life threatening, that Eric's friend drove himself to the hospital, and that the altercation was only a bar fight...all false. Because the police keep getting it wrong, the media is misrepresenting the situation to the public...vilifying Eric's friend & co. while glossing over the major crime committed.
Yet again, the police succeed in screwing things up. The police spokesperson continues to tell the media that the injuries were not life threatening, that Eric's friend drove himself to the hospital, and that the altercation was only a bar fight...all false. Because the police keep getting it wrong, the media is misrepresenting the situation to the public...vilifying Eric's friend & co. while glossing over the major crime committed.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
An Uncharacteristically Sad and Disturbing Post
This past weekend, Eric's best fried was stabbed. Yes, you read right. He was stabbed in a nice restaurant called Magnolia's Steakhouse in Norfolk, Virginia. He is currently in the hospital in Norfolk and is okay, for the most part...but the situation was disturbingly close to being very much not okay.
The scene played out like this: Eric's best bud and a bunch of other guys were in Norfolk (where both Eric and his friend are from) for a bachelor's party. After dinner, the party goers were drinking and carousing in the pool room of the restaurant, when one of the other bar patrons starts being obnoxious and waving his pool cue around. Not being ones to let that sort of thing slide, the party goers proceed to start running their mouths to crazy, pool-cue-waving guy. The next thing they know, pool cue guy has punched Eric's friend in the face, thrown him up against the wall, and stabbed him twice in the abdomen. There is still some confusion about the events that occur next, but a few things are sure:
1. Pool cue psycho ran from the bar, leaving his credit card behind.
2. Eric's friend and another person hailed a cab outside, which promptly rushed them to the hospital.
3. Eric's friend's friends beat up one of pool cue guy's friends in retribution.
Eric's friend made it to the hospital, and supposedly walked into the emergency room and mumbled something to the nurse along the lines of "I'm not going out like this." He was then rushed into a 3-hour surgery. The stab wounds were both big. Both were on his left side...one just below his heart and one on the side of his abdomen, perforating his stomach. The surgeons had to cut him open from his diaphragm to below his belly button in order to stop the bleeding and repair the internal damage. After the surgery, the doctors told his parents that it was a miracle that the knife didn't hit his heart or lungs, and that if Eric's friend had been 10 more minutes to the hospital, he wouldn't have made it.
Eric's friend is doing better, but he's still not in good shape. He's currently on a lot of morphine, can't eat or drink anything, and is obviously very shaken up (as are his friends and family). However, when he and Eric talked yesterday, his sense of humor was definitely still intact. He will make a full recovery, and we can all be thankful for that.
While the story so far is obviously scary and upsetting, I think the next part of the story is equally as bad, if not worse. Even with dozens of witnesses and the perpetrator's credit card, the Norfolk police did not arrest the man until today. When Eric's friend's family inquired about the investigation on Monday, they were told that the policeman in charge of investigating this crime was on vacation, and that he would get to it when he returns. The police essentially brushed them off, saying that these things happen all the time, and they'll get to it when they can. Unbelievable. Additionally, because Eric's friend's friends beat up the perpetrator's friend after he ran away (obviously not the right thing to do, but their friend has just been stabbed for goodness sake), the cops are trying to play this off as bar brawl and not a singular attempt on Eric's friend's life. Finally, there may be an issue with the knife used in the crime. Supposedly, a knife has to be a certain size for a crime to be labeled an attempted murder, and because the criminal took his weapon with him when he ran, no one is sure how this final piece will play out.
The perpetrator is currently charged with "felonious assault" and not attempted murder. This blows my mind. Ten more minutes and Eric's friend could have died...but this isn't attempted murder? I know that the most important thing right now is that Eric's friend is alive and healing, but the police need to figure their stuff out. This was not a drug-related incident in a crack house. A law-abiding citizen from a well-respected family could have died
....and people wonder why much of America has lost faith in its law enforcement system...
End note: if anyone has any advice as to how Eric's friend and his family should proceed with law enforcement and/or the legal system in this situation, please let me know. It will be greatly appreciated.
The scene played out like this: Eric's best bud and a bunch of other guys were in Norfolk (where both Eric and his friend are from) for a bachelor's party. After dinner, the party goers were drinking and carousing in the pool room of the restaurant, when one of the other bar patrons starts being obnoxious and waving his pool cue around. Not being ones to let that sort of thing slide, the party goers proceed to start running their mouths to crazy, pool-cue-waving guy. The next thing they know, pool cue guy has punched Eric's friend in the face, thrown him up against the wall, and stabbed him twice in the abdomen. There is still some confusion about the events that occur next, but a few things are sure:
1. Pool cue psycho ran from the bar, leaving his credit card behind.
2. Eric's friend and another person hailed a cab outside, which promptly rushed them to the hospital.
3. Eric's friend's friends beat up one of pool cue guy's friends in retribution.
Eric's friend made it to the hospital, and supposedly walked into the emergency room and mumbled something to the nurse along the lines of "I'm not going out like this." He was then rushed into a 3-hour surgery. The stab wounds were both big. Both were on his left side...one just below his heart and one on the side of his abdomen, perforating his stomach. The surgeons had to cut him open from his diaphragm to below his belly button in order to stop the bleeding and repair the internal damage. After the surgery, the doctors told his parents that it was a miracle that the knife didn't hit his heart or lungs, and that if Eric's friend had been 10 more minutes to the hospital, he wouldn't have made it.
Eric's friend is doing better, but he's still not in good shape. He's currently on a lot of morphine, can't eat or drink anything, and is obviously very shaken up (as are his friends and family). However, when he and Eric talked yesterday, his sense of humor was definitely still intact. He will make a full recovery, and we can all be thankful for that.
While the story so far is obviously scary and upsetting, I think the next part of the story is equally as bad, if not worse. Even with dozens of witnesses and the perpetrator's credit card, the Norfolk police did not arrest the man until today. When Eric's friend's family inquired about the investigation on Monday, they were told that the policeman in charge of investigating this crime was on vacation, and that he would get to it when he returns. The police essentially brushed them off, saying that these things happen all the time, and they'll get to it when they can. Unbelievable. Additionally, because Eric's friend's friends beat up the perpetrator's friend after he ran away (obviously not the right thing to do, but their friend has just been stabbed for goodness sake), the cops are trying to play this off as bar brawl and not a singular attempt on Eric's friend's life. Finally, there may be an issue with the knife used in the crime. Supposedly, a knife has to be a certain size for a crime to be labeled an attempted murder, and because the criminal took his weapon with him when he ran, no one is sure how this final piece will play out.
The perpetrator is currently charged with "felonious assault" and not attempted murder. This blows my mind. Ten more minutes and Eric's friend could have died...but this isn't attempted murder? I know that the most important thing right now is that Eric's friend is alive and healing, but the police need to figure their stuff out. This was not a drug-related incident in a crack house. A law-abiding citizen from a well-respected family could have died
....and people wonder why much of America has lost faith in its law enforcement system...
End note: if anyone has any advice as to how Eric's friend and his family should proceed with law enforcement and/or the legal system in this situation, please let me know. It will be greatly appreciated.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Stealth Lacrosse Insider: Part II
Along with the vignette that I wrote about Eric (below), I also profiled a few other Stealth players for the "Stealth Lacrosse" Insider TV show. A month after filming, the piece finally aired today. Check it out.
Stealth Lacrosse Insider: Part I
It's Eric and I's big screen debut! And by big screen, I mean that this aired today at noon on the local NBC channel. The video is of Eric's personal vignette for the "Stealth Lacrosse Insider" TV show, which I wrote and pseudo-produced. This is one of my many baby steps towards my new career as...well...who knows what to call it....writer/scientist/host extraordinaire? Yeah, that has a nice ring to it ;-) Let me know what you think!
PS This is probably obvious, but this is a ghetto bootleg copy. I'll post a better one once I get the DVD from the network.
PS This is probably obvious, but this is a ghetto bootleg copy. I'll post a better one once I get the DVD from the network.
Monday, February 23, 2009
I Love My Flip Video Camera!
I'm laughing out loud right now. My video from Saturday night's game has been noticed by the competitive eating community, and this site linked to my blog with this post. Yeah, eatfeats.com!
Meet Joey Chestnut
Yes, at the San Jose Stealth game this weekend, the one...the only...JOEY CHESTNUT provided the halftime entertainment by consuming the weight of a small child in macaroni and cheese. This man (a SJ local) beat the great Kobayashi in an international hot dog eating contest, and then moved on to set the new world record in mac and cheese consumption by downing TEN AND A HALF pounds of the orange stuff in seven minutes in front of 6,000 fans during halftime
at the Stealth game on Saturday. Apparently, this guy is a big deal because he drew the 7th largest crowd ever at a Stealth game, and I even saw a little girl cry after the game when she was told she couldn't get his autograph on her commemorative bobble-head (see left) that was given away at the game. Pretty ridiculous, right? Well, I guess San Jose loves food consumption contests more than contests that involve skill and/or talent, but we're not complaining. In addition to seeing Joey's gurgitation antics, the large crowd also saw an awesome Stealth win over their rivals from Colorado...hopefully, the fans will be back next time for the "hockey with balls" and not the average looking man with a very large stomach.PS Check out the "defense" section of this article.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Best News I've Heard All Week
Hooray! A San Franciscan tradition has been saved.
If this compromise had not been reached, the outcome would have been a travesty. Thank goodness for level-headed people.
Now to start planning this year's costume...
If this compromise had not been reached, the outcome would have been a travesty. Thank goodness for level-headed people.
Now to start planning this year's costume...
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tahoe Adventures
Wow, what a weekend. Well, really it was a weekend+ because the ball got rolling on Thursday night at dinner. The BF and I were talking about our plans, our ride to the mountains, the incoming storm, etc, and we realize that our best bet for getting to Tahoe in a timely fashion was to leave early-ish on Friday. This causes me to text my boss at 8:30 pm (fueled by a few glasses of wine) if it was ok if I worked from "home/the road" on Friday. Because he's cool, he responds "ok by me," and the weekend was put in motion.
Our departure on Friday morning was a bit postponed due to highway 80's closure...yes, lots and lots of snow. We finally got up there about 5:30 that evening after being thoroughly entertained by the BF's roommate's (henceforth known as Matt) in-car DVD player (btw, Ironman is a fun flick). Matt drops us off in Squaw Valley at a friend of the BF's house...and this house is pretty much a perfect ski bum stereotype. It was built in 1959. There are two loudly barking dogs. The heat doesn't work, so the house is kept warm by a wood burning fireplace. A maid hasn't set foot in the place in years. Ski/snowboard equipment covers every surface. All of the guys who live there work on the mountain. And, of course, Michael Phelps would have been veeeeery happy there. Yep, he would have fit right in with those guys. So, after getting hooked up with free demo boards and grabbing some dinner, we settle into the living room on our air mattress and fall asleep to the sound of the Simpsons.
The next morning arrives with the sound of ski boots and cereal boxes, as the ski bums prepare for work. The BF and I arise a bit more slowly, make some cream of wheat, don our snowboarding gear, and head for Squaw. We have to make our first stop at the high camp demo shop because one of the ski bums forgot something, and we were assigned the task of bringing it to him. We score a free board wax out of our errand, and then set off down the mountain run to knock the rust off our snowboarding boots. By the time we've made it back up to the top, they've opened most of the back side of the mountain, so we head (without maps or a decent knowledge of the slopes) after the crowd like blind lemmings. Next thing you know, we are both buried up to our helmets in 3 ft of virgin powder. Yep, somehow, on our second run in a year, I have led us into "experts only" territory. Given, this would have been a frickin' blast if I'd had about 2 more runs on which to warm up, but unfortunately, it was trial by fire on Saturday morning. Both the BF and I worked up QUITE a sweat digging our way down that run, but that didn't stop us from doing it again...and again...and again. Yep, the Solitude lift saw quite a bit of us that morning.
We stopped for lunch/a water break and then made an aborted attempt to catch up with some friends. The rest of the day consisted of laps on KT, while we continued to hone our powder skills. At Le Chamois for apres-ski, we finally catch up with all our buddies and warm our frozen hands with bud lights and hot sake. We also find out that there is a bunch of room Matt's house, and as much fun as air mattresses are, we decide to change up our sleeping arrangements. After picking up our gear from the ski bum house, we have time for a hot tub, shower, and quick nap at the new house before six of us go to Jake's on the Lake in Tahoe City for a Valentine's Day triple date. Lobster and steak are great ways to celebrate the overly commercialized holiday, but speaking from experience, drinking lots of red wine at altitude causes a bit of pain the next morning. I'd definitely do it again though.
We wake up Sunday morning to a full-on blizzard...A) everyone decides that skiing today is a bad idea, and B) everyone decides that going home today is a bad idea. Therefore, because I am one of the 3 people in Tahoe that is supposed to work on Monday, I am put in the "unfortunate" position of breaking the news to my boss and co-worker that I won't be making it into the office. Once that unpleasantness was finished, our entire house pours out into the snow for an epic sledding session followed by a brutal snowball fight. In addition, Matt's girlfriend has a 4 month old husky puppy, and there is nothing cuter than watching a husky pup frolic in the snow. We wear ourselves out with awesomely childish antics (pictures will be added later, promise), and then everyone else settles in to watch a movie/the snowfall, while I set up my computer and try to do all the work that I need to get done by Monday. It's amazing how productive one can be when 2 ft of new snow awaits them.
We're all up early on Monday morning, and the boys head straight to the KT lift, while I send out a slew of emails from Starbucks. Obvs, I couldn't be so irresponsible as to not tie up all my loose ends before hitting the slopes. Once that's done, I stash my terrible laptop in a locker and head out into the storm of powder-covered awesomeness. I could write a novel about how much fun Monday was...so much new snow, untracked bowls, sick tree runs...the list just goes on. I'm not even that great of a snowboarder, but I still had a blast and definitely worked on my boarding skills trying to keep up with the boys. It snowed pretty hard the entire time, so white out conditions definitely played a part in upping the "adventure factor" especially on some of the high ridges. Dropping off catwalks over ledges into thigh-deep powder and then cutting fresh tracks across deserted bowls = pretty amazing. We skipped lunch and rode the entire day, finally calling it quits around 2:30ish. Best snow day of my life, period.
You'd think the adventure would have ended once we left Squaw, but the ride home was pretty intense as well. The blizzard moved in full-force, and 80 was closed. We had to take a super secret way through Donner Pass (if I told you, I'd have to kill you) with blowing snow and other craziness all around us. I'll give it to Matt. He has nerves of steel. Five and a half hours later we pull up in front of the house...happy and exhausted. Taking snow days is never a mistake.
Let's do it again next weekend?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Squaw Valley
In preparation for this weekend, I'm going to reminisce the ski resorts that I know the most about. We'll start with Squaw cause it's the big mama of them all. Home of the 1960 winter Olympics, Squaw is everything an American ski resort tend to be....huge, elitist, social, and overpriced. The slopes themselves are extensive and definitely fun, especially if you're a great skiier/boarder. There a lot of places to hike into (many of them far too advanced for yours truly) and lots of fun tree runs on which to risk your neck. The only problem actually ON the mountain is the crowds (I'm speaking from weekend experience. I, unfortunately, have a job that doesn't allow me to ski weekdays). Holy people, Batman! If you ski any runs that are blue or below, be prepared to spend the majority of your time dodging kiddies with their skis tied together and fat, old men in onesies (not that there's anything wrong with onesies). If the snow is decent and it's a weekend, be prepared for long lines everywhere...but there's also great people-watching, so you'll stay entertained. As a self-defined intermediate boarder, there are a lot of runs on this mountain that are beyond my skill level and/or not for boarders, but if you're a bomb skiier, SV is definitely the place for you.
It's also the place to see and be seen. Gold Coast is always hoppin' at lunch time (you're guaranteed to run into at least 8 people that you know...and may not necessarily want to see), and I can't even get into Le Chamois for apres ski right now...that's a whole post in itself. I think my very favorite thing about Squaw is going to the pool in the springtime. Yes, there's a pool on the mountain, and last time I was there, two of my girlfriends bought bathingsuits while on the mountain to lay out...on the mountain...surrounded by snow...in March. It was just that gorgeous. What ISN'T there to like about that?
It's also the place to see and be seen. Gold Coast is always hoppin' at lunch time (you're guaranteed to run into at least 8 people that you know...and may not necessarily want to see), and I can't even get into Le Chamois for apres ski right now...that's a whole post in itself. I think my very favorite thing about Squaw is going to the pool in the springtime. Yes, there's a pool on the mountain, and last time I was there, two of my girlfriends bought bathingsuits while on the mountain to lay out...on the mountain...surrounded by snow...in March. It was just that gorgeous. What ISN'T there to like about that?
Monday, February 9, 2009
Tahoe?!?!!
The forecast looks like this, the BF has the weekend off, and I haven't been snowboarding yet this year...can anyone give me a reason NOT to go to Tahoe this weekend???I know, I know...I live 3 hours from the mountains and I haven't been up there this season. But in my defense, the snow has been pretty terrible/non-existent, and spring-skiing conditions in January don't generally do much to help that. However, it looks like things are finally turning around. Squaw, here we come, or maybe Alpine, if the weather's iffy. Either way, I plan to have some sore muscles this time next week. There isn't much that will make you hurt worse than your first, powder-filled weekend on the slopes. Bring it, pain.
Monday, February 2, 2009
In honor of Superbowl Sunday...
This is what happened to me around this time last year. It's such an amazingly ridiculous story that I can't help but relive the memory....
To add insult to injury, neither of us has a cell phone. Aaron gets in the car with some nice strangers to head back to our house to get help, and I sit in the car thinking "What the crap?" After a few minutes I realize the car has OnStar, so I call it. 7 minutes of waiting later, I am connected to the least helpful emergency responder in the history of life. She and I spend another hour on the phone trying to work out a) what happened to the car, b) what to do with the car, c) how I'm supposed to get anywhere, and d) when/where I can get another rental. In the meantime, the fat snowplow man has put flares all around the vehicle, traffic is backing up in both directions (it's down to 1 lane), and all of my friends have passed Aaron and I to go ski the 3 ft of powder (what else could they do after checking to see that we were ok?). After 30 more minutes of waiting for the tow truck, the Hertz lady calls back to say that a tow truck isn't coming because the weather was so bad the night before. We are to abandon the H3 (unlocked) on the side of the road. They will tow it when they can. So this is what we do. We go home. Aaron goes to ski, and I find a ride back to SF. Except for 30 minutes into this ride, we hear that there's been an avalanche and the only highway back to SF is closed...again...for the 2nd or 3rd time that day. So I go back to my house (having missed the Superbowl) and change my Hertz reservation again, deciding that the-powers-that-be don't want me back in SF for Monday, and I stay in Tahoe and snowboard on Monday (the silver lining of this situation). Thankfully, it was awesome.
I go to work on Tuesday thinking I'm going to get fired, but somehow no one is any the wiser and they don't ask me any questions about Monday. Then Thursday rolls around, and I finally got a call at work from Bruce at Hertz.
Bruce: Is there a Melissa Maffett available?
Dale: Yes, this is she.
Bruce: Hi, Miss Maffett, this is Bruce from Hertz rental car. I'm so sorry to bother you, but you recently had a Hummer, correct? And the axle...(pause)...broke?
Dale: (laughing sarcastically) Yes
Bruce: Um, Miss Maffett, you wouldn't by chance know where that Hummer is now, would you?
Dale: You mean Hertz doesn't know where the vehicle is?
Bruce: No, not at the moment...
And the conversation continues with me explaining how we abandoned the car (unlocked) on the side of the road, and I have no idea where it is. Bruce then tells me me that it's ok and that they'll find it...and that this happens all the time. What?!?!
I got a call this morning that the car has been found and was in Reno (obvs). Hallelujah! Thus ends the story of the broken axle.
Pic 1 - Still smiling
Pic 3 - On second thought...
Sunday began with waking up at a friends house in Tahoe because we had been snowed in there the night before. 8 people from my house went to a dinner party at 7 pm, and when we tried to leave (in a 4WD Jeep Grand Cherokee) at 10:30 pm, the snow in the driveway way too deep for us to get out. It ended up being a really fun slumber party, obvs, but I just wanted to paint the picture.
Apparently, one of the drunk people at the friend's house with me on Saturday night had called one of the people still at our house to come "rescue" us that night on our house's brand new snowmobile. Well, the snowmobile was blocked in by my rental car (I needed 4WD and it was all they had. Don't judge)...an H3 Hummer (yes, ridiculous)...so a few people with no discernible decision-making skills decided to move my car to unblock the snowmobile (without telling me, obvs). They got the H3 out of the driveway so easily that they decided to come "rescue" us in that car instead of on the snowmobile, but after traveling about 100 yards to the end of our street, the 4WD on the Hummer seemed to crap out, and it got stuck. In the middle of the night in the middle of the road in a blizzard. The two guys driving it spent 2 hours pushing it into the entrance of a school so that it was out of the way for the night (they also called me 8 times, but I was asleep). That is where it slept.
Once we finally escaped out friend's house the next morning (3 ft of snow to dig out of and we had to wait for the plows), we came home to the Hummer looking like it does in picture 1. At this point, I really don't think there's much to worry about, hence the smile in the pic. I mean, it's a Hummer, of course it can handle the snow, right? Wrong. We dig and push and curse for about 2 hours to get that car out of there...the whole time the 4WD won't engage. Basically, the front wheels just wouldn't spin. When we finally got the car out, we thought that the 4WD was just messed up because we had been pushing buttons and messing with it and stuff all night/morning, so the car just needed a little drive to reset and right itself. My friend Aaron was driving, and I was in the passenger's seat. We get about 2 miles from our house and the car seems to be doing ok. We turn around to head back home, and about 3 minutes after doing this - BOOM! My side of the car DROPS to the ground as if we'd had a blowout or the wheel had fallen off. The entire car immediately locks up, and Aaron can't drive or steer it. We screech to a halt in the middle of the main road (2 lanes...and 6 feet of snow piled to either side of the road) running along the lake. I immediately get out of the car to see what has happened. Turns out that the FRONT AXLE HAS BROKEN OFF THE FRONT RIGHT WHEEL OF THE CAR...ON A H3...RENTAL CAR...IN TAHOE.
Apparently, one of the drunk people at the friend's house with me on Saturday night had called one of the people still at our house to come "rescue" us that night on our house's brand new snowmobile. Well, the snowmobile was blocked in by my rental car (I needed 4WD and it was all they had. Don't judge)...an H3 Hummer (yes, ridiculous)...so a few people with no discernible decision-making skills decided to move my car to unblock the snowmobile (without telling me, obvs). They got the H3 out of the driveway so easily that they decided to come "rescue" us in that car instead of on the snowmobile, but after traveling about 100 yards to the end of our street, the 4WD on the Hummer seemed to crap out, and it got stuck. In the middle of the night in the middle of the road in a blizzard. The two guys driving it spent 2 hours pushing it into the entrance of a school so that it was out of the way for the night (they also called me 8 times, but I was asleep). That is where it slept.
Once we finally escaped out friend's house the next morning (3 ft of snow to dig out of and we had to wait for the plows), we came home to the Hummer looking like it does in picture 1. At this point, I really don't think there's much to worry about, hence the smile in the pic. I mean, it's a Hummer, of course it can handle the snow, right? Wrong. We dig and push and curse for about 2 hours to get that car out of there...the whole time the 4WD won't engage. Basically, the front wheels just wouldn't spin. When we finally got the car out, we thought that the 4WD was just messed up because we had been pushing buttons and messing with it and stuff all night/morning, so the car just needed a little drive to reset and right itself. My friend Aaron was driving, and I was in the passenger's seat. We get about 2 miles from our house and the car seems to be doing ok. We turn around to head back home, and about 3 minutes after doing this - BOOM! My side of the car DROPS to the ground as if we'd had a blowout or the wheel had fallen off. The entire car immediately locks up, and Aaron can't drive or steer it. We screech to a halt in the middle of the main road (2 lanes...and 6 feet of snow piled to either side of the road) running along the lake. I immediately get out of the car to see what has happened. Turns out that the FRONT AXLE HAS BROKEN OFF THE FRONT RIGHT WHEEL OF THE CAR...ON A H3...RENTAL CAR...IN TAHOE.
To add insult to injury, neither of us has a cell phone. Aaron gets in the car with some nice strangers to head back to our house to get help, and I sit in the car thinking "What the crap?" After a few minutes I realize the car has OnStar, so I call it. 7 minutes of waiting later, I am connected to the least helpful emergency responder in the history of life. She and I spend another hour on the phone trying to work out a) what happened to the car, b) what to do with the car, c) how I'm supposed to get anywhere, and d) when/where I can get another rental. In the meantime, the fat snowplow man has put flares all around the vehicle, traffic is backing up in both directions (it's down to 1 lane), and all of my friends have passed Aaron and I to go ski the 3 ft of powder (what else could they do after checking to see that we were ok?). After 30 more minutes of waiting for the tow truck, the Hertz lady calls back to say that a tow truck isn't coming because the weather was so bad the night before. We are to abandon the H3 (unlocked) on the side of the road. They will tow it when they can. So this is what we do. We go home. Aaron goes to ski, and I find a ride back to SF. Except for 30 minutes into this ride, we hear that there's been an avalanche and the only highway back to SF is closed...again...for the 2nd or 3rd time that day. So I go back to my house (having missed the Superbowl) and change my Hertz reservation again, deciding that the-powers-that-be don't want me back in SF for Monday, and I stay in Tahoe and snowboard on Monday (the silver lining of this situation). Thankfully, it was awesome.
I go to work on Tuesday thinking I'm going to get fired, but somehow no one is any the wiser and they don't ask me any questions about Monday. Then Thursday rolls around, and I finally got a call at work from Bruce at Hertz.
Bruce: Is there a Melissa Maffett available?
Dale: Yes, this is she.
Bruce: Hi, Miss Maffett, this is Bruce from Hertz rental car. I'm so sorry to bother you, but you recently had a Hummer, correct? And the axle...(pause)...broke?
Dale: (laughing sarcastically) Yes
Bruce: Um, Miss Maffett, you wouldn't by chance know where that Hummer is now, would you?
Dale: You mean Hertz doesn't know where the vehicle is?
Bruce: No, not at the moment...
And the conversation continues with me explaining how we abandoned the car (unlocked) on the side of the road, and I have no idea where it is. Bruce then tells me me that it's ok and that they'll find it...and that this happens all the time. What?!?!
I got a call this morning that the car has been found and was in Reno (obvs). Hallelujah! Thus ends the story of the broken axle.
Pic 1 - Still smiling
Pic 2 - Things don't look SO bad.
Pic 3 - On second thought...
Pic 4 - Is that the axle sitting on the ground next to the tire? Yes! It is!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Blazin'
Ladies and gentlemen, you're looking at a picture the winner of the 2009 Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon! He was going so fast that the BF's iPhone camera only read his passing as a blurred body with a slightly demonic grin, but if I was at the 12.5 mile mark, cruising 4:56 minute miles with no competitor in sight, I'd probably have a grin on my face too. In fact, I can attest to the fact that Crosbone (the winner and my friend and running guru) had that same smile on his face as he sprinted by me on the Great Highway...this was around my mile 8 and his mile 11. I can say that he seriously upped my cool points when he slapped me an easy, down-low five mid-stride. Despite the fact that he was 3 miles ahead and averaging 2:22 minutes/mile faster than me, I think he felt a lot better at that moment than I did too. Yep, against all advice and odds, I ran all 13.1 miles this morning. I will say that I ran a PR (and my first 1/2 in 5 years). I will also say that it was really dumb to do so, and I will not be running for at least a week because of it (I know, I know, Cros/Kim/Dr. O/BF. You told me not to). And you know what? Despite how much my knee hurts right now, I don't regret it at all.
This was an incredible morning for a race. Twelve of my friends all decided to run this thing together, and everyone ran great on this 66 degree, sunny, February morning. There was only a hint of a breeze, the course was fast, the fans were loud, and everyone was there to have a good time. I'm so proud of our whole "team." We had at least 3 members who ran their 1st half marathon EVER; a teammate who trained (and fell) in 2 foot snow drifts in Minnesota after being banished there until March by Wells Fargo; various peeps who powered through runner's knee, hip issues, shin issues and knee issues; at least 2 PRs within the group; people who didn't train but showed up to gut it out anyway; and basically just a bunch of all-out champion awesomeness demonstrated today. Yeah, I have bada** friends. I also have a bada** BF who drove me to the race this morning and cheered everyone on from the start to the finish (taking blurry pics along the way). I think the highlights of the race were running the out-and-back on the Great Highway and cheering on various teammates as they ran by in the opposite direction...followed closely by the moment I dumped an entire cup of gatorade over my head at mile 11, thinking it was water. Expert tip #122: Gatorade is sticky and not optimal for thermal management.
Now it's time for beers, burgers (of the veggie variety), and football. Happy Superbowl Sunday, everyone.
PS Cream of Wheat is the perfect pre-race fuel. I'll fight anyone who says different.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Tales from Canadia
***This story is not exaggerated or falsified in any way. I promise. It depicts purely non-fictional events. Really.***
**Also, I usually discourage all types of fighting, but this had to be shared.**
The BF had a game in Calgary this weekend, and after the game the team headed out in their finery to a place creatively called Cowboys. After shots of Jameson, Jaeger, Jack, and lord knows what else, the BF was sitting at the bar (alone, I should note. Unbeknownst to him, his buddy had just gotten "asked to leave"), when some extremely inebriated dude (SEID) plops down next to him and spills approximately 42.86% of his beer on the BF's new suit (it was an x-mas present from his mom! GASP!). The BF exclaims "WTF, dude?!" to which SEID slowly responds "whaaaah?" while flailing his hands and hitting yet another beer and spilling another 32.97% of someones adult beverage on the BF's pant leg. The following exchange ensues...
The BF (half joking...but kinda not. It should be noted that the BF was definitely feeling it at this point): "Dude, you're paying my dry cleaning bill."
SEID: "Huuuuuuuh?"
The BF: "You have two options...either you give me your wallet or you give me your watch."
SEID (holding his arm three, hazy inches from the BF's face): "Jus tryyyy takin' thisssss wattth off myyy wrist."
Of course, the BF pushes SEID's beer-splattered arm out of his face, and SEID immediately lurches to his feet preparing for fisticuffs...eyes scrunched, fists almost touching both each other AND his nose, swaying slightly, mumbling "C'mon. Let's go." (See left for dramatization). The BF, disbelieving the cartoon character in front of him, slowly stands and starts laughing. SEID then (unprovoked) swings unsteadily yet aggressively at the BF's laughing face, which the BF easily dodges. In order to put the poor fool out of his misery, the BF responds with a quick left hook, connecting and sending Charlie Chaplin sliding backwards across the entire bar room floor...movie-style...collecting peanut shells and bottle caps in his back pockets as he went (reminder: this is ALL true). SEID finally comes to rest against the wall under a one-antlered moose, and is immediately pounced upon by the bouncers who quickly and efficiently "ask him to leave" the bar. Somehow the BF convinces the big guys that he isn't at fault, so they let him return to his bar stool and half-consumed adult soda.
Soon after the SEID incident is resolved, the BF realizes that his original buddy isn't coming back and decides to leave. He walks outside and successfully hails a cab in the -423 degree weather. As he is sliding into one side of the cab, another guy slides in the other side. The BF looks over and guess what?!?! It's SEID!!!
SEID: "Heeeey, I thhhink we jus got ina fiiight."
The BF: "Nah, dude. That was one of my buddies. What happened?"
SEID: "Oh, right...maaan, I shouldn'ta done that. I mean, I'm not bleedin' outta my mouth, but I went slidin' across the floor."
The BF: "Yeah, glad that wall was there to stop you."
SEID: "Yeeeah."
At this point the cab is pulling up in front of the BF's hotel, and as the BF gets out, he turns to SEID and says "Hey man, you got this cab, right?" To which SEID nods and responds, "Yeah, man." The BF shuts the door laughing to himself, "See, I TOLD you that you'd pay for my dry cleaning bill."
Aaaaaand scene.
**Also, I usually discourage all types of fighting, but this had to be shared.**
The BF had a game in Calgary this weekend, and after the game the team headed out in their finery to a place creatively called Cowboys. After shots of Jameson, Jaeger, Jack, and lord knows what else, the BF was sitting at the bar (alone, I should note. Unbeknownst to him, his buddy had just gotten "asked to leave"), when some extremely inebriated dude (SEID) plops down next to him and spills approximately 42.86% of his beer on the BF's new suit (it was an x-mas present from his mom! GASP!). The BF exclaims "WTF, dude?!" to which SEID slowly responds "whaaaah?" while flailing his hands and hitting yet another beer and spilling another 32.97% of someones adult beverage on the BF's pant leg. The following exchange ensues...
The BF (half joking...but kinda not. It should be noted that the BF was definitely feeling it at this point): "Dude, you're paying my dry cleaning bill."
SEID: "Huuuuuuuh?"
The BF: "You have two options...either you give me your wallet or you give me your watch."
SEID (holding his arm three, hazy inches from the BF's face): "Jus tryyyy takin' thisssss wattth off myyy wrist."
Of course, the BF pushes SEID's beer-splattered arm out of his face, and SEID immediately lurches to his feet preparing for fisticuffs...eyes scrunched, fists almost touching both each other AND his nose, swaying slightly, mumbling "C'mon. Let's go." (See left for dramatization). The BF, disbelieving the cartoon character in front of him, slowly stands and starts laughing. SEID then (unprovoked) swings unsteadily yet aggressively at the BF's laughing face, which the BF easily dodges. In order to put the poor fool out of his misery, the BF responds with a quick left hook, connecting and sending Charlie Chaplin sliding backwards across the entire bar room floor...movie-style...collecting peanut shells and bottle caps in his back pockets as he went (reminder: this is ALL true). SEID finally comes to rest against the wall under a one-antlered moose, and is immediately pounced upon by the bouncers who quickly and efficiently "ask him to leave" the bar. Somehow the BF convinces the big guys that he isn't at fault, so they let him return to his bar stool and half-consumed adult soda.Soon after the SEID incident is resolved, the BF realizes that his original buddy isn't coming back and decides to leave. He walks outside and successfully hails a cab in the -423 degree weather. As he is sliding into one side of the cab, another guy slides in the other side. The BF looks over and guess what?!?! It's SEID!!!
SEID: "Heeeey, I thhhink we jus got ina fiiight."
The BF: "Nah, dude. That was one of my buddies. What happened?"
SEID: "Oh, right...maaan, I shouldn'ta done that. I mean, I'm not bleedin' outta my mouth, but I went slidin' across the floor."
The BF: "Yeah, glad that wall was there to stop you."
SEID: "Yeeeah."
At this point the cab is pulling up in front of the BF's hotel, and as the BF gets out, he turns to SEID and says "Hey man, you got this cab, right?" To which SEID nods and responds, "Yeah, man." The BF shuts the door laughing to himself, "See, I TOLD you that you'd pay for my dry cleaning bill."
Aaaaaand scene.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Finding myself: Stories about everyday...or not so everyday...travel
It's been about two weeks since I started this here bloggy, and I realize that to this point my writings have had as about as much direction as Britney Spears circa late 2007. Now that I've stretched my blogging legs, it's time to "find myself." And I've come up with what I consider a great idea (though I'll admit a fine, young women we'll call ACE may or may not have had a lot of influence on it)...
This is going to be a travel blog. No, no, NO...not THAT kind of Travel Blog. This travel blog is going to document all the ridiculous things that happen to me and my friends while traveling...BUT I'm using "traveling" in the broader sense of the word. I mean any kind of traveling for any distance to anywhere...a commute to work, a trip to Hawaii, driving to the gym, a trip to the bathroom...any and every kind of "travel" is game, so while I will happily blog about my annual winter trip to visit friends in Utah or our family trip to Florida, I'm also going to write about what I saw while I was running yesterday or while walking on the beach on Saturday (see Saturday's post).
I hate to even call this a travel blog. It's more a website about getting from point A to point B and/or what one finds at point B, but that label seems a bit long...maybe it's better described as a blog about everday...or not so everyday...travel. Yeah, I like that. Over and out.
This is going to be a travel blog. No, no, NO...not THAT kind of Travel Blog. This travel blog is going to document all the ridiculous things that happen to me and my friends while traveling...BUT I'm using "traveling" in the broader sense of the word. I mean any kind of traveling for any distance to anywhere...a commute to work, a trip to Hawaii, driving to the gym, a trip to the bathroom...any and every kind of "travel" is game, so while I will happily blog about my annual winter trip to visit friends in Utah or our family trip to Florida, I'm also going to write about what I saw while I was running yesterday or while walking on the beach on Saturday (see Saturday's post).
I hate to even call this a travel blog. It's more a website about getting from point A to point B and/or what one finds at point B, but that label seems a bit long...maybe it's better described as a blog about everday...or not so everyday...travel. Yeah, I like that. Over and out.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
New Years Resolutions
Hi friends, family, and anyone else who cares to read about my life,
So here I go...starting a blog of my own. Why am I doing this, you ask? Well, I'm not really sure. I guess I just wanted to give it a shot, and therefore decided to make it a New Years resolution. My life tends to get pretty ridiculous at times, and I wanted to record these adventures somewhere besides the semi-regular (or not so regular) emails that I send to my best friends. Maybe people will like to hear my stories about hallucinating co-workers and New Years spent with geriatrics...and maybe they won't...but at least I'll have fun writing about it, right? Right.
My most
recent adventure involves spending New Years week in Boca Raton with my family, some family friends, and my boyfriend. We were at the Boca Raton Resort and Club. Why? I'm still not quite sure, but I will say this...the resort was spectacular...for a LOT of reasons. It was gorgeous and so very, very nice and so very, very pink.
Breakfast every morning was a smorgasbord of every conceivable type of breakfast food, and I stuffed myself with omelets, bagels, smoked fish, and amazing coffee at the beginning of each day in order to look fabulous by the pool. I would follow this with a sweaty slog (=slow jog) of as far as I could bear or maybe some poorly played tennis with the BF. It must be noted that, while my group contai
ned all Southerners and five "kids" between twenty and thirty years old, the VAST majority of the clientele at the resort were from New York and either geriatric or below the age of nine. That resulted in some interesting people-watching throughout the week.
In the interest of brevity, I'm going to fast-forward to New Years Eve at the resort. We had decided to attend the Gala (yes, I said Gala), thinking that it had to be the best (i.e. most toddler-free) party at the place. Well, think again! Let's get the visual...giant (admittedly beautiful) ballroom with projectors silently showing PBS on the big screen (we asked for a football game but that was aggressively shot down); we are the ONLY twentysomethings in the football field-sized area; the worst band in history is playing lounge-y "hits" from 1933 without the benefit of any percussion; an overly enthusiastic Asian woman is flailing her arms and futilely attempting to add some pizazz to the dance floor among the geriatric Yankee couples; and our waiter didn't speak English, so drinks were very slow in arriving to dull the pain. The BF and I even took a spin on the dance floor, but after a minor wardrobe malfunction and the admission that it's hard to jam to Big Band music from a synthesizer, we gave up. Needless to say, the moment our lukewarm dinner was finished, we sprinted towards the exit and to the sports bar in the resort. The rest of the evening quickly become fuzzy, but things that I do recall include: 1) my mother peer pressuring me into a tequila shot, 2) limoncello, 3) balloons falling from the ceiling, 4) my brother kissing a complete stranger, 5) a VERY sketchy man asking me if my mom was a swinger...WHAT?, and 6) the BF telling me that I needed to be put in time out (i.e. go to bed) because I was not longer forming coherent sentences. Aaaaaaand scene.
The rest of the trip was pleasant, if hungover, and the trip back to SF...well, let's just say I saw my first screaming fight ON an airplane. That may be fodder for a subsequent blog. Over and out.
So here I go...starting a blog of my own. Why am I doing this, you ask? Well, I'm not really sure. I guess I just wanted to give it a shot, and therefore decided to make it a New Years resolution. My life tends to get pretty ridiculous at times, and I wanted to record these adventures somewhere besides the semi-regular (or not so regular) emails that I send to my best friends. Maybe people will like to hear my stories about hallucinating co-workers and New Years spent with geriatrics...and maybe they won't...but at least I'll have fun writing about it, right? Right.
My most
recent adventure involves spending New Years week in Boca Raton with my family, some family friends, and my boyfriend. We were at the Boca Raton Resort and Club. Why? I'm still not quite sure, but I will say this...the resort was spectacular...for a LOT of reasons. It was gorgeous and so very, very nice and so very, very pink.Breakfast every morning was a smorgasbord of every conceivable type of breakfast food, and I stuffed myself with omelets, bagels, smoked fish, and amazing coffee at the beginning of each day in order to look fabulous by the pool. I would follow this with a sweaty slog (=slow jog) of as far as I could bear or maybe some poorly played tennis with the BF. It must be noted that, while my group contai
ned all Southerners and five "kids" between twenty and thirty years old, the VAST majority of the clientele at the resort were from New York and either geriatric or below the age of nine. That resulted in some interesting people-watching throughout the week.In the interest of brevity, I'm going to fast-forward to New Years Eve at the resort. We had decided to attend the Gala (yes, I said Gala), thinking that it had to be the best (i.e. most toddler-free) party at the place. Well, think again! Let's get the visual...giant (admittedly beautiful) ballroom with projectors silently showing PBS on the big screen (we asked for a football game but that was aggressively shot down); we are the ONLY twentysomethings in the football field-sized area; the worst band in history is playing lounge-y "hits" from 1933 without the benefit of any percussion; an overly enthusiastic Asian woman is flailing her arms and futilely attempting to add some pizazz to the dance floor among the geriatric Yankee couples; and our waiter didn't speak English, so drinks were very slow in arriving to dull the pain. The BF and I even took a spin on the dance floor, but after a minor wardrobe malfunction and the admission that it's hard to jam to Big Band music from a synthesizer, we gave up. Needless to say, the moment our lukewarm dinner was finished, we sprinted towards the exit and to the sports bar in the resort. The rest of the evening quickly become fuzzy, but things that I do recall include: 1) my mother peer pressuring me into a tequila shot, 2) limoncello, 3) balloons falling from the ceiling, 4) my brother kissing a complete stranger, 5) a VERY sketchy man asking me if my mom was a swinger...WHAT?, and 6) the BF telling me that I needed to be put in time out (i.e. go to bed) because I was not longer forming coherent sentences. Aaaaaaand scene.
The rest of the trip was pleasant, if hungover, and the trip back to SF...well, let's just say I saw my first screaming fight ON an airplane. That may be fodder for a subsequent blog. Over and out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
