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Better Luck San Diego?


I'm writing this blog entry because I'd really like to win that trip to San Diego. I can't really say I've necessarily done anything (at least purposely) to deserve the trip. I don't have family or friends out there and I haven't lost my job or anything else unfortunate like that, but a string of bad luck on my past few vacations might dictate at least some consideration for winning this trip.

It all started Memorial Day weekend of 2007. My wife and I were just married on the Friday of that weekend and for our honeymoon we decided to keep it simple (and cheap) and take a camping trip up to Peninsula State Park in Door County. We got there on Sunday afternoon, set up the tent, and went down to Fish Creek to sample some of the beer at Shipwrecked Brewery. My first clue that something was wrong should have been that I was having a hard time finishing my beer sampler because I love beer sampling. But, it just didn't feel right that afternoon. So, we get back to the campsite that evening and my wife gets out the smores. She started making some for herself while I sat by and continued to feel a bit off. It really isn't like me to turn down smores (or any food) either. But my wife, not wanting to feel like a pig eating smores by herself insisted that I have a "frickin' smore" with her, so being the new husband that I was, I agreed. As the night wore on, my insides started feeling like I had one too many bowls of Real Chili but the relief never came. By 2am, with my wife fast asleep, I started to freak out. Finally I gathered enough courage to poke my brand new wife, on the first night of our honeymoon, in the face and wake her up to ask her to drive me to a hospital. In spite of no cell phone reception, deer everywhere, and no sense of where we were going, my wife finally got me to the emergency room in Sturgeon Bay. Fast forward through Memorial Day to that Tuesday and I'm riding back home to Bay View minus an appendix with a wife who spent the previous night alone at a Super 8.

The next year, on our anniversary, we tried again: same campground, same wife. We made it through a couple great days up there until the last night when the temperature dropped. I bundled up in a fleece jacket and got inside my fleece lined sleeping bag to hunker down for the night. Well, in the middle of the night, I needed to get up to relieve myself; the ensuing struggle between the fleece on my jacket and the fleece in my sleeping bag resulted in a hernia and a trip to urgent care the next day.

We managed a nice trip out to California later that year where we drove from San Francisco down to LA. No hospital visits, no health issues, no problems - right? Well, six months later I get a call from a collection agency saying there is a warrant for my arrest since I apparently ran a red light (caught on camera) and never paid the ticket. I guess if you don't update the address on your driver's license the rental car company isn't smart enough to figure out to tell the state of California the address you gave them when you rented the car. Needless to say, rather than never go back to California for the rest of my life, I forked over $600 to pay the ticket and late fees and I'm now free to go back with no fear of arrest.

For awhile I had been swearing off ever visiting any of to those places again because of my bad luck, which made my wife pretty sad about the prospect of never seeing California with me again. But now I saw this chance to win the trip out to San Diego, we've never been there before and my wife has always wanted to go. From the description in the OMC blog, it sounds like an amazing place, maybe amazing enough to turn our luck around. So even if I don't deserve the trip, I think my wife might, just for putting up with all those shenanigans. Plus, you can only have your appendix removed once, I hear the weather in San Diego is beautiful (so I won't need a fleece or a sleeping bag), and I promise to obey all traffic signals.

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