Friday, August 13, 2010

get your head in the game...

This post is going to fall squarely in the "Yes, I Realize I Am Completely Crazy But I'm a Woman, So Get Over It" category.

(But aren't those the best kind?)

This weekend I'm going to Green Bay, WI for work.

(And by "work", I mean my company is taking me there to booze and shmooze clients and make them like me so they buy more of my company's stuff.)

(If you're a client reading this and would like to partake in a similar adventure, you definitely can.  See me for details.)

While in Green Bay, I will be embarking on the following adventures:
  • Packers pre-season game in "the special seats" (aka The Box)
  • Attend the PGA Tournament on Sunday(booyah)
  • Eat my weight in Wisconsin Cheese
  • Take a factory tour of my company with my clients (this being the part where they love everything and use it all the time)
Admittedly, I am not excellent at thinking in advance. Someday when I birth a child, I will be the woman that doesn't pack her bag until her water breaks and ends up running all over the house leaking goo and screaming, "WHERE ARE MY CUTE GO-HOME JEANS??? I HAVE TO HAVE THEM!"

That being said, it should surprise no one that I did not begin to pack a single thing for Green Bay until this morning.  When the first moments of panic began to set in, I thought to myself, "How hard can this be?  I need football stuff for Saturday, golf stuff for Sunday, and dress clothes for Monday.  Easy."


Not. Easy.

First of all, I do not own anything related to the Green Bay Packers. Not even a cheese head. My sports wardrobe consists of old KU t-shirts, Iowa State hoodies (thanks Hubs) and a large amount of Chicago Bears paraphernalia.  No Packers gear.

In addition, when it comes to dressing for a golf event, I'm like a gay man attending a hunting show.  Totally clueless.

Me: (standing in front of Hubs as he watches morning sports programs) WHAT am I going to wear to this Packers game?  Hubs, help me!

Hubs: (trying to look around me) Just wear something green.  I have that green v-neck t-shirt you can wear.

Me: (gasps) I am NOT going to wear a MAN'S shirt at a work event, Hubs.  It'll be huge on me and unflattering!

Hubs: (comping on his banana) Babe, that green shirt of mine from Target is actually pretty small. And it's uni-sex.

Me:  (rolling my eyes) Target does not sell UNI-SEX clothing, Hubs.  UGH!  I'll just go to the store and find a green shirt, I guess.

Hubs:  Great. We also need kitty litter.

Me: (looking at television sports show) Okay, but hat should I wear to the PGA tournament?  Should I buy a plaid dress and a big hat like at those derby races?

Hubs: Ha! Um, no. Just wear something comfortable.

Me:  Like jeans?

Hubs:  (shaking head) No, don't wear jeans.

Me: (exasperated) But I'm most comfortable in jeans! (Pointing to the television) Change the channel to the PGA tournament and I'll just look at what those people are wearing.

Hubs: (clicking through channels) It's not on right now, the game was delayed because of fog.

Me:  (screaming) THERE'S GOING TO BE FOG at the PGA Tournament?  (Slapping thigh) Well, there goes my hair for Sunday.


****


In the end, I went to Target. (For the record, there are no uni-sex t-shirts offered anywhere in that store.) I found a green tank top for $10 that will probably work for the Packers game.

(Rachel Zoe would never be caught dead in it, but then again, she'd never got to a football game, either.)

All was good until I came home...and found myself typing "Green Bay Packer's Women's t-shirt" into Google.

Holy overload.

Bloggies, the ADORABLE t-shirts I found for Packer's fans...it's just unfair. Green ones, yellow ones, black ones, grey ones, long sleeve, short sleeve, 3/4 sleeve, tank tops.  It was never ending.

Then I went a little bananas.

I ended up with three different Packers t-shirts in my online cart at $29.99 each. Oh, and an additional $25.00 to receive them by 10:00 tomorrow morning.

Crazy?  Yes.  Unnecessary?  Probably.  

But isn't this what women do?  We obsess over what to wear to certain events until it drives us to the point of insanity.  Think about any event where you didn't know what to wear.  Isn't it easier to just buy something new?  

And just like any other crazy woman, I found myself rationalizing the purchase of the shirts.
  • I could wear these again. I mean, Kansas City people don't HATE the Packers, so I wouldn't be ex-communicated or anything.
  • Perhaps I could be a Packers fan for Halloween??  
  • Maybe I could wear them, but leave the tags on and then return to the internet store?  (My sweating problem eliminated this option.)
  • I could sell the shirts after the game on Craigslist??
Eventually I emptied out my  cart and went with the green Target tank top.  Wah wahhh.

As for the PGA tournament, I'm opting for simple capri's and a nice top.

I think.

Just in case, I may or may not have asked my boss if I can quickly run to the mall in Green Bay before Sunday's tournament.
After all, it's quite possible that if I look good enough, I may catch a Tiger by his toe...

(That was a joke, Hubs.  I only want you.)

Monday, August 9, 2010

Teenage Wasteland...no more

Last week I was in Topeka (my home town) for work.  On a whim I decided to drive by the house I grew up in, which happens to be a mere mile from my high school.  I drove by my old house, slightly concerned that this would happen again. 

It didn't. 

After seeing my house and realizing that nothing on my old street ever changes except the size of the trees, I  took an extra minute and drove quickly past the jail.  I mean, high school.  But it wasn't a jail anymore.

Let me explain.

My high school used to look like this. 


Okay, it didn't look EXACTLY like this.

(It had windows.)

But in all seriousness, my high school was not conventionally pretty.  It was essentially a big block of concrete with windows, a gym, a sad excuse for a music room and a small art department.  Oh yes...and systems furniture for walls.

Yes that's right.

We did not so much have dry wall in the interior of our classes.  Oh no.  We had partitions.  Which, looking back, was quite convenient if you wanted to get answers to a test from someone in the room next to you.  Partitions aren't great with acoustics.

I make fun of it but the truth is, my high school had character.  

(If it were a cartoon, it would be Goofy, but it had character none the less.)

A few years back the school underwent a renovation. I was there for the walk-through of the renovation and was impressed with how much the school had changed.

The exterior had aesthetically pleasing architectural elements like glass and brick and metal.
The music room was much larger with fancy-schmancy acoustical wall covering.

The science labs were much science-ier. (Clearly not one shred of scientific knowledge stayed in my brain after senior year.)
 
All in all it was a beautiful renovation. Spectacular even. But it made me a smidgen sad.  I mean, a lot of the things that made my high school my high school were the ridiculous elements that are no longer there.

It's just like the crappy apartment you lived in for three years in college.  You hated the refrigerator with the broken light bulb and the dishwasher that only worked if the bathroom light was on. You hated the kitchen faucet that dripped to the beat of  "Jingle Bells", and the air conditioner that sounded like a rocket ship deploying into deep space. But when you finally saved up the money to move into the Falling Leaves and Fancy Free townhome with amenities you desperately wanted for so long, you suddenly missed that bare bones apartment.  It wasn't fancy, but it was your home.

My high school is the refrigerator with the broken light bulb. It was a home to me for three years, crappy partition walls and all.  It's where I met some of the best friends I still have today.

(And possibly some people Facebook affords me the ability to laugh at today.)

It's the place I still feel immense anxiety over when I pass by eleven years later.  It's the place that still haunts my dreams (Did I really pass French?  Did I really convince those teachers I deserved a diploma?) and stars in some of my most embarrassing stories.

I'm sure my high school still maintains a vast number of annoying faults for future generations to whine about.  Ten years from now when the school undergoes yet another renovation, some snarky kid like me will swear that the new high schoolers are SO spoiled.  In his day,  Channel One was viewed on a clunky 42" HDTV flat screen and each student had to borrow a Kindle from the library, they didn't just get one. For shame.

And so, I've decided to accept it.  Things are going to change.  My old school will get improvements that I never had.  Kids now have a parking lot that doesn't land their car in the shop twice a month for re-alignment. Students can't pass notes THROUGH THE WALL any longer. Science labs will be more memorable with the equipment to back up the curriculum. There's no harm in that.

So, my high school can go ahead and improve all it wants.  Because I'll still remember the way it was. 
And cringe.

With love.