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Hey there, I'm Marisa; wife to John. Mother to: Manny, Christian, and Jackson. I am also the author of this blog.
Lover of Starbucks, make up, chuck taylors, flip flops, purses, music, movies, and books.

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Welcome
Hey there, I'm Marisa; wife to John. Mother to: Manny, Christian, and Jackson. I am also the author of this blog. Lover of Starbucks, make up, chuck taylors, flip flops, purses, music, movies, and books. ![]() Yours Truly
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Everyone in the Bauson family, (hell, everyone in the general vicinity) was dressed in jeans, sneakers, heavy coats/sweaters, and hats. Some people were even wearing their Giants beanies, gloves, and scarves. Now, let me paint you a picture of the girl sitting to my left: denim shorts, flimsy windbreaker, and platform sandals. She also smelled like she bathed in eau de toilette before coming to the game. I cringed every time the wind picked up because my nose was assaulted with the scent of her perfume. ![]() Is it right that I've completely judged this girl without knowing her? Absolutely not, but whatever, I'm a judger. I'm probably judging you right now (and you're definitely judging me for using a completely made up word, "judger"). Ten minutes into the game, she turns to me and says, "If I started the wave, would you join in?" First... ![]() And second.... ![]() When she first asked me, I was shocked. The wave? Really? Did we suddenly turn into Chavez Ravine and I didn't know it? I briefly glanced at the dude sitting next to her, he gave me an embarrassed smile and chuckle (see, even he knows that we don't do the wave at Giants games). I had a millisecond to decide what to do. Should I stick with my guns and say no? Or should I be nice, cut the girl a break and say yes? If I said yes would she really start the wave? Would I have to join in? In the end, I politely (well, I thought it was polite, I'm sure she thought I was a bitch) declined. She looked at me, shocked. "Not even for your boys?" Shaking my head I say, "No, sorry." "Oh, ok. You're boys are super cute by the way, are they triplets?" In my head I'm thinking, triplets? Triplets? Who is this chick? "No, the oldest is five, he's three," pointing to Christian, "and the youngest is 11 months." "They look really cute in their orange sweaters and panda hats." "Yeah, just trying to keep them warm." I say back, trying desperately not to look at her bare skin, and absurd shoes. It was no small feat (pun intended). She chuckles and says, "Yeah, this is my first game." That was the end of our conversation. She didn't talk to me for the rest of the game. However, I can't help but eaves drop on the conversation she's having with her date. The girl doesn't come up for air, all of the conversations revolve around her. At one point I think she started talking about an ex-boyfriend. I'm convinced that her date isn't even listening to her at this point. His responses consist of, "uh-huh", and a well timed, "bummer", and "that sucks". Unfortunately we had to leave at the end of the 5th inning. Jackson was getting antsy, and the boys were all sugared out. On the way home I explain everything to John. "She wanted you to do the wave? We don't do the wave. What are we? The Angels?" He asks. "I know!" I respond. "You know, you've turned into a bit of an elitist." He remarks. So this had me thinking. Was I an elitist? I totally judged this girl on what she was wearing, before she even said two words to me. I think the other thing that annoyed me about this girl, was that she admitted that she knew nothing about the game. She asked her date several questions about baseball, and then immediately flipped the conversation and started talking about herself. Maybe if she had actually watched the game, shown a modicum of interest in what was going on, I would have been nicer to her, but it was obvious she couldn't have cared less. She was there to be seen, not there to watch the game. So, maybe I am an elitist. I'll just add that to the list of things that I need to work on with myself. ![]() As far as the game goes, you know, because I actually watched it (lol). It was depressing as hell, but we had awesome seats. We sat in lower reserve, twenty rows up. I was sitting directly behind the foul pole. It actually obstructed my view of first base. We got there early enough to watch bp for the Pirates. As I was putting Jackson's jacket on him, I hear, "here it comes!" from someone behind me. I look up, trying to find the ball, but I can't see it. I hear a loud thunk! on the steps directly to my left. The ball landed on about five feet from where I was sitting, right in front of a couple who was coming back from getting food. Later in the game someone (can't remember who) hit a foul ball in our direction. It looked like it was coming straight at us. I grabbed both Manny and Christian, preparing to block, or cover them if need be. Luckily it soared right over our heads, and landed in upper reserve. If it had been 10-20 feet shorter, it would have hit John and Jackson. As I mentioned earlier we had to leave in the 5th inning. I'm not sure we'll be able to take Jackson to any games for a while. This happened with the other boys as well. Between the ages of 1 and 2 years, they just aren't interested in sitting for long periods of time. Even at 2 it can be a bit of a stressful event bringing them, but they can understand and listen to me when I say "stay put", or "please sit in your chair". At 12 months, he just wants to walk and explore. We plan on attending a couple more games this season, perhaps I can finagle Grandma P. to watch baby J so that we can take the boys. *hint hint* *wink wink*
8:46 AM
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