3 years ago
Thursday, August 13, 2009
A while back my work planned an outing to the Giants v. Dodgers game (which was yesterday). I knew I'd be 30 weeks pregnant by the time the game rolled around. I figured I'd be fine. Sounded like fun.
A few days ago a coworker said he couldn't go and asked if anyone wanted to buy his ticket. So I invited Christian (since he is now jobless and free to do these kinds of things during the day).
Christian and I drove up together since I wasn't sure how my back would handle a long ride in a packed Caltrain. (My back seems to hurt every day now.)
Unfortunately, my back was screaming by the time we got there even though we drove our own car. Walking the mile from the farthest parking lot didn't sound so bad before, but now that my back was hurting, I wasn't looking forward to it. So we were grumpy. $32 for each ticket. $20 for parking. $84 total to be ridiculously uncomfortable? We have better things to spend our money on right now (like baby supplies).
So what did we do?
We sold our tickets to the first guy we saw on the side of the road and went straight to Ghirardelli Square. We ate our ice cream sundaes while laying on the lawn at Aquatic Park. It was pure bliss.
We talked about all the things we're going to buy when we're stinking rich.
Christian is going to get a blue-angels type jet (for $100,000,000), an old fighter jet (for $2,000,000), and a helicopter, of course. He just can't decide if he wants the 4-seater or the 6-seater. Decisions, decisions.
I am going to get a house in the mountains. By a lake. With trees all around. And hiking trails out my back door.
While I hear the game was pretty exciting, I thought eating ice cream on the grass in the breezy sunshine while dreaming of having lots of money was perfect.