Another trip to Colorado. This time is for a league conference. I'm very excited about the conference. I'll be meeting up with other ultimate players who also organize leagues around the country. I've been talking to Mike about my 'league in a box' idea, and he believes it's a great idea. (Yes, another Great Idea TM. I need to get more of them done. Let Great Ideas TM, more action.)

I am, however, nervous about the trip. Kris is home sick, having come down with a viral infection of some sort. He was non-functioning yesterday and only semi-functioning today. I hate to leave him alone when he's ill. He, of course, was never ill before he met me. I mean, he couldn't have been because he didn't have me there to take care of him.

I'm also flying on a new airline for me. Not being a particularly good flyer, new airlines, or anything out of my comfort zone when flying for that matter, are stressful for me. Make that disstressful. Coupled with the fact that I'm flying alone and we have here one unhappy woman.

On the other hand, it'll be four days with Elizabeth and Sandie. Now that'll be a great four days!

Field space! Field space! Whoo! Field space!

Last year, I stepped down from running SBUL, the South Bay Ultimate League. The fields the league has are restricted to 'no cleats'. Turf shoes are okay on the fields, but not cleats.

The problem with this policy (from a player standpoint, and not a field owner or maintainer's standpoint) is that high level of competitive play isn't possible. When the ground gets wet, as it does every night with the dew, players slip around. It makes the game significantly less enjoyable, especially since the teammates are usually unknown.

Since I wanted a higher level league, I started another league, MPUL, or the Mid-Peninsula Ultimate League. I wanted it to be high level play and on the (San Francisco Bay Area) Peninsula. Essentially I wanted a league similar to the City's SFUC, but closer to me.

Field space has been an issue. Finding lighted fields that adult leagues can play on, that youth leagues haven't reserved (youth leagues typically have first priority because only children are allowed to play sports, you know), and the city-run leagues haven't grabbed, is rather difficult. I know. I've called. I had Kyle Smith call. And I had Brooke call. Brooke make a comprehensive list for next year.

Last year for MPUL, I fell into the Whisman Park fields by accident. This year, I may do the same with some Sunnyvale fields. I'll be very excited if I do. I find out tomorrow if we have space. The fields the City of Sunnyvale's Parks & Rec Field Reservation guy, Rick, suggested to me are amazing. They're huge, lack a softball diamond to take up the whole space, and are wonderfully, glorifully lit. Oh Joy!

Of course, MPUL will be named the Increasingly Misnamed Mid-Peninsula Ultimate League if this southernly trend keeps up.

Annie went to doggie daycare today. Kris was up at 6:10 (much earlier than we get up normally, by a LOT), and out the door by 7:00. Since this was Annie's first trip to the doggie daycare, she needed to arrive early so that she could greet other dogs as they came into the room. The alternative was introducing her to a mob of 20 dogs (stressful for any dog!).

The doggie daycare (DDC from now on) has a webcam where you can watch the room. Whenever I watched, Annie looked lost: standing around looking sad.

Kris picked up Annie from DDC in the late afternoon and heard the Annie report. When Kris dropped her off in the morning, apparently she howled. Annie isn't a big talker (that would be Bella), so her howling is definitely a sign of distress. Her other sign is humping the nearest person's leg. Yes, that's right, we have a humper.

Annie humped the attendent's leg. Each time she did, she received a time-out (15-20 seconds in a kennel). After a few times, she figured out the humping means a time-out, so she stopped. She also stopped her howling. She's pretty smart.

Apparently Kris managed to see Annie during one of her humping sessions. Ah, if only he had grabbed a snapshot of the moment, we'd have documentation of how we paid $25 for our dog to hump a stranger's leg.

Today's run was a run of starts, stops and distractions. It's amazing I managed to run it under 20 minutes, actually.

Kris and I went out with Annie for my loop run. She was distracted and distracting. She has to stop at every corner (for training reasons), so Kris kept stopping. Then there was the cars driving, stop lights to cross, skunks (!!) jumping out from behind bushes, the works. Annie was excited, we were not amused.

It seems I can never get to a dentist appointment on time. I don't know what it is, but even when I try really hard, I still end up late. Sigh.

Had my teeth cleaned this morning. I'm fairly religious about my 6 month teeth cleanings. They may average every 6.5 months, but I go nominally twice a year. I was at the dentist about 2 months ago with some sensitivity in my lower right molars. Turned out to be bruised roots from clenching my jaw, and not cavities, so I'm trying not to clench so much.

As a result of said tooth sensitivity, today's cleaning was surprisingly painful. At one point, the dental hygenist (can I just call her the tooth fairy?), jabbed the little hook thingy into my gum between two back molars and pulled. When my gum didn't immediate come out, she puzzled, "Something sticky is in there."

Yeah, my flesh!

The experience reminded me of my dentist/orthodontist from childhood, Virgil Gassoway. My aunt Sonnie was quite enamoured with the fellow, and encouraged us to see him as our dentist. At some point, I think Mom was enamoured, too, so off we went.

For the record, Gassoway had horrible "bedside" manners. When tightening a band on one of my braces, he slipped and gouged the inside of my jaw. I was gushing blood. His response? "Hold still, I'm not done." No apologies, no cleaning of the gushing blood, just a "hold still damn child lest I beat you when your mother isn't looking."

I had more head X-rays with that man than the rest of my life combined. I suspect he'll be the cause of any brain cancer I get when I'm 97.

He was also my first orthodontist. Somehow Chris managed to avoid braces as a child. Beej and I were not so lucky. The deal, however, was that we went to Gassoway. Now, Gassoway wasn't really an orthodontist. He wasn't trained to do any moving-of-the-teeth, only cleaning-of-the-teeth and repairing-of-the-teeth. Actually, he didn't even do those well. He was recently (5-6 years ago maybe?) sued for leaving a broken drill bit in the tooth of a patient and filling the cavity anyway. Ever wonder why mamma keeps buzzing when she walks through the airport metal detector? Blame Gassoway. (not really)

To do orthodontics, Gassoway would take photos and molds of his patients mouths, and take such documentation to orthodontia conventions. What would you do with this mouth, he'd ask. He'd then come back, and adjust the braces or give the Frankel (which, according to my little brother who had one, is just a little less barbaric than head gear).

There's the outside thought that maybe, just maybe, I dislike the man so much because he pulled four of my teeth out (first teeth behind the eye teeth), rather than suggesting space maintainers and roof expanders that later real orthodontists suggested for me. In high-school, I wore a retainer that expanded the roof of my mouth by a 1/4", leaving gaps that, oh, I don't know, say, two teeth could fill. But saying that's the cause of my dislike ignores the incompetence of the man, and the lifelong harm he's caused.

So let's just say he sucks.

Because he does.