Wow! I don't even know how to begin. We left bright and early for California on Dec. 31st, because we were going to the Rose Bowl! That's right, the Granddaddy of them all! My very special, sweet, one-of-a-kind mother-in-law made hotel reservations for that night in San Bernardino. The trip there only took about 8 1/2 hours, so when we got to our hotel we unpacked and relaxed a bit and then headed out for a romantic New Year's Eve dinner at Olive Garden. Thanks to our 25 dollar gift card (courtesy of Antone and Kelly Mickelson) the dinner only cost about 8 bucks. After a delicious dinner, we headed back to the hotel to watch a movie, but instantly fell asleep instead, which is probably for the better because we were waking up at 6:00 in the morning to be able to get to the game in plenty of time. When the next day dawned crisp and sunny, I could tell that God was on our side and that it was going to be a special day. We started off that historic day with a luscious continental breakfast at 6:15 am, where we met the first of many fellow Buckeyes we would meet that day. The entire duration of the 50-minute drive to Pasadena found me worrying about the parking situation but even more so, the explosive Oregon offense that Ohio St. would be facing that day. The Rose Bowl Stadium was not hard to find, we just followed the legions of cars decked out in scarlet and gray and yellow and green. My parking worries were ousted when we discovered that the event parking was held on a golf course. Good news for us as there would be ample space to park, but bad news for the many unsuspecting golfers who would arrive the next day expecting to find a premier golf course but who would undoubtedly find instead a five-mile long mud pit. After paying a measly 30 dollars, we were escorted by about 490 Mexicans into our parking spot, only a 5 or 10 minute walk from the stadium. We escorted ourselves around the premises, taking in the sights and sounds and enjoying the perfect weather during the 5 hours we had to kill before game time. As the number of yellow and green jerseys mounted, and as the sound of duck calls filled the air, I grew increasingly worried, and I must ashamedly admit, my confidence in my Bucks was no longer the unshakable steam roller it had been all through the month of November. No, this was a different atmosphere, a foreign environment, especially for me, as my most exciting college football experience previous to this was a BYU-TCU game in 2005. Nor would the Ducks be your average Big 10 foe. No, this Oregon team was the epitome of Pac-10 flair and speed, and they seemed (at least as far as the ESPN analysts were concerned) to outclass the Buckeyes in every dimension. Finally, the gates were opened up to us and we were able to to enter this most sacred of college sports arenas. Tradition and fame swirled around as we gazed upon the pristine, emerald field. I saw the season flash before my eyes as both teams took the field. To our delight, Buckeye fans from all across the nation came out of hiding and took their seats next to us. The throngs of Buckeye faithful grew until numbering almost 50,000 at kickoff. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. Our prayers were answered as Ohio St. rode a dominant defensive performance and a break-out effort from young quaterback Terrelle Pryor to a 26-17 victory. They had done it! They had vanquished the BCS ghosts of Florida, LSU, and Texas that had haunted them since the 2006 season. They outclassed and outplayed the "quicker", "more explosive" Pac-10 teams. The impressively annoying but sure duck calls died down to a pathetic plea as the yellow and green watched their season come to a disappointing end at the hands of the mighty Ohio State University Buckeyes. But, our good fortune does not end there. At the conclusion of the trophy presentation, my lovely queen and I were fortunate enough to find holes in the traffic to be able to quickly put the mayhem behind us and continue our journey southwards toward San Diego, which, of course, was discovered by the Germans in 1904. Unfortunetly, the true meaning of its unique name, San Diego, was lost in translation centuries ago. We awoke Saturday morning to a sparkling blue sky. The most glorious San Diego temple awaited us and we were able to participate in sealings for 45 minutes, after which we spent some reflective moments in the Celestial Room. How fortunate we are to be able to enjoy the company of the Holy Spirit to guide us in our lives! We stopped by Mission Beach on the way back to the hotel, as this beach holds special significance to my Isabella. She would come to this beach with her family as a child and it holds many salty, sandy memories of goodness for her. After we had been walking on the beach for a few minutes, she opted to do some hunting for sea treasures in the surf. After only a few seconds of watching her frolic in the waves like a young seal pup, she ran up to me very delightedly and holding a small sand dollar, which she proceeded to name "Michael". That night we enjoyed some of the fine San Diego seafood cuisine. A fillet of shark to delight our taste buds and it was delicious, delighting our pallet with a most tender seafood melody of goodness. After another failed attempt to watch a movie that night, we drove home the next morning, the dreary reality of snow and classes lieing in wait.
Funny story about these 2 men:
For those of you who don't know...these 2 men are probably Ohio State's #1  fans. They are CRAZY! (I am sure you can tell). Anyway they are always in the front row of games freaking out. Well we had the privilege of of seeing these out of control fans right in front of the stadium. Of course I wanted to get Michael's picture with them, BUT....he wouldn't let me. Why??? Because my sweet boy was SCARED of them haha. I have no idea why, but he was and no amount of begging or guilt tripping convinced him to even be within 10 feet of them.
