publicly relating

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

I realized my last post started with the world's worst photo of me (unless you count this horrible nightshirt one and this equally hideous wetsuit one, of course), so I figured I should write something new and very long so the awfulness goes away. Because that's how the internet works, right? You bury embarrassing things with more embarrassing things and eventually everyone just forgets the earlier stuff because the new stuff is way more ridiculous and you come out looking like a winner. 

I swear, I'm not still on pain meds.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is shortly after my surgery, I took my denture for a spin at a golf tournament. Which actually was a pretty good way to start venturing out into the world because golfers are apparently easily distracted, so you're not supposed to talk a lot, therefore I didn't feel too terribly self-conscious. 


That is, until I saw this guy.

Toothy jerk.

I don't really know anything about golf except that there is a ball and you're supposed to try to get it in a hole with as few attempts as possible. But I did walk the entire course (which was beautiful and hilly and dusty and vast). And I found myself following the 15-year-old golfer around (which subsequently made me feel really creepy). And I got stranded at a "crossing" in a giant crowd for a very long time and it was worse than trying to swim upstream at IKEA. 

The view from the deck of our hospitality tent.

My smile is only slightly crooked.

And since I don't know what it means to stop and stay in one place, I flew to San Francisco yesterday for a media luncheon that included a lot of wonderful things I couldn't eat.

Damn you, gluten.

Double-damn you.

Thankfully the consolation prize of a bunless burger was tasty. 


And while the work portion of my trip went well, the best part was getting to spend time with some of my favorite people in one of my favorite venues while watching my favorite team.

Most diverse group at the stadium.

MadBum set a new career high for strikeouts. And a shit-ton of seagulls swarmed the bleachers (which I think was actually Arvan's favorite part of the entire game). And I drank some scary form of sake that cost $10 and tasted like lemon juice with an entire box of sugar poured into it. And Himanshu joked that it would be hilarious if a foul ball hit me in the mouth and knocked out my other tooth. Yeah. That would be really hilarious.

Unfortunately, the Giants lost, but Layla and I were absolutely on point with our fish faces.


And I got to wear this hat.


I am back in Seattle now. And tomorrow I get my stitches out. Don't worry -- I will tell you all about it in way too much detail. I know you can hardly wait.

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