With good reason though!
First....I made a quick trip to Phoenix to see Erica and meet her new Little Man, Drew Cooper.
After a crazzzzzy whirlwind three weeks that included relearning how to ride a bike...
I made my way to San Diego for a Society of Nerdy People Who Live in California and Like Old Things Meeting. I have to go to that meeting every year, just to make sure I am up to date on all the newest information about old things. And dirt. Every year I think to myself: "Self, you should spend less time at the talks and more time exploring the destination and pretend to be on vacation." Then every year I spend too much time listening and talking and shopping for new books about old things and totally miss out on the exploration part and come home too exhausted to do anything but read my new books about old things and wonder why I am so tired from just listening and talking.
I'm pretty sure that Indiana Jones went to professional conferences. And when he did, I think he looked like this:
I realize that at the rip old age of 30, and a career that lets me wear Carhartts and boots 70% of the time, I should not judge...but seriously. This is the one time of the year the grungiest of the grungy get to wear their suits and dress pants and the spring line from Banana Republic. My own Mr. Wranglers and Camo Hat wore a Suit Jacket and Fancy Pants. I wore heels! Needless to say, I was insulted by the undergrads in Cut-off Daisy Dukes that showed off what I can only assume is the Business they are really in. Ladies, even if Jessica Simpson and Vogue say "This is the Modern Woman's Look," trust me...it is not appropriate Conference attire. Ever. Its not even considered "Business Casual"and it is never okay to wear shorts to a meeting with clients or, in our field, a tribal consultation meeting! "Yes, I hear that you are unhappy with the proposed project and potential impacts to this site, please let me distract you with my naked thighs and polka dot thong." I know, I know...not exposing our ankles is a thing of the Victorian Era...but the 2010s doesn't mean we need to expose our WooHoos just because we want to be fashionable. Fashion is fleeting, after all and a first impression can last a really long time. Clearly I am having a hard time getting over it...but do you see my point?
After being scandalized by the young'ens, Mr. Wranglers - I might just start calling him that from now on - and I took a trip to the coast for a little romantic dinner by the beach. Or close to the beach. We drove by the beach to get there. We went to the Fish Market. Yes. Fish. Market.
If you are a member of my family, or any of my close friends, you know that I have a strong...STRONG...aversion to seafood. This stems from a particularly memorable experience as a five year old in Padre Island with the whole maternal side of the ArchaeologyAsh Family. There was shrimp. And there was a crab. And there were crab guts. And there was puking. At the dinner table. In stereo since Twin Sister and I did a lot of things the same. Consequently, there has not been hardly a taste of seafood since. For nearly 25 years.
I succumbed to tasting some clams last year in Point Reyes. They were washed down immediately with beer and a vegetarian sandwich. Earlier this Fall I had barbequed oysters at the neighbors' house. They were good, but I haven't rush out to have them again.
But Mr. Wranglers convinced me to just give it one more try...my taste buds have surely matured. He decided we should go big or go to In 'n' Out. So we did.
First we had the Duckett's Bucket.
Next, I let Mr. W order my dinner. Trusting, yes?
We decided to take an after-dinner walk at Swamis in Encinitas. See? Isn't it lovely?
We didn't get back to the coast until the day we had to drive home. Nerdy People require a lot of attention, and since Mr. W also gave a talk about Old Things, we stuck around the Conference Center on our last free evening so he could work on his talk. Which was phenomenal. I recognize I am biased, but I wish I had recorded it just so I could prove myself right to you all. Maybe I should call him Mr. Archaeology? Mr. ArchyG?
|Baby, You Can Drive My Car...Beep Beep Honk Honk|
|Birds! And sand dollars!|
Now if only I could get over my apparent prudishness about other people's clothes...