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In Which the Honeymoon Ends

It is indeed over. They served us corn flakes for breakfast. With bananas, of course. Oh, and an assortment of fruit-filled breads. Still, a clear sign that they had moved on without us. Snack-time was no better. Along with the coffee, they put out an assortment of Quaker granola bars. I took two. I know – – I’m a rebel. That, and there’s no lunch today.

I won’t be home until late. There’s an afternoon session that I don’t think I’ll attend. It’s an additional really technical thing for which I have no mode of reference, and one of the Veeps has already bailed, and the other said he wasn’t staying for it, so I’ll have a couple of hours to kill at the hotel. I’ll be able to do some critical reading and writing. I have plenty to do and appreciate the captive audience part of my situation, me being the captive.

At any rate, the concierge is my new BFF. He very kindly confirmed my flight, printed my boarding pass, and ordered a shuttle to the airport.

And by the way, people who use big words ALL THE TIME bug me. So do people who make a freakin’ running commentary on stuff that is really important and really serious, like, oh, SACS maybe. SHUT UP! Okay, I feel better now.

P.S. stupid questions bug me, too. Maybe I’m just bugged. LOL!

Overall, I’d give an A to the conference, in spite of information overload, and an A+ to the hotel. No, I didn’t “accindentally” pack the fluffy bathrobe.

The flight home, on the heels of some scary weather, was okay. There was an obnoxious child that annoyed me in the boarding area, and fortunately for me, kicked the back of someone else’s seat on the flight. The flight itself was less than great, but brief. We took off in stormy weather (not Lena Horne’s version), and had a bumpy ride. Let’s just say that the flight provided the up and down, side to side jarring that I managed to avoid by going to EPCOT with Deborah. The descent was like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

Still, the pilot landed us safely, so he’s a contender for BFF along with the concierge.

There’s much to be said for Home Sweet Home.

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In Which I Embrace “Putting on the Ritz”

Besides my outrage at the woman next to me who actually helped herself to my handwritten blog notes, I will begin with another review of food. We began with another exquisite breakfast of assorted and exotic fruit, delicious breads, organic yogurts, and a croissandwich that shames the self-proclaimed King of Burgers.

Then, more plenary sessions and workshops, another tasty break, more workshops, and then…lunch.

Ha. Back to the gastronomic tour: lunch, again, was incredible. The obligatory hotel chicken was neither rubbery nor dry. Yum! There was some pretty good other stuff, too, but I want to fast-forward to dessert and the creme broulee.

Actually, I want to fast-forward to the guy who sat next to me: after carefully selecting what appeared to be low-calorie fare on his plate, he proceeded to pig out on the creme broulee. Really, I don’t blame him – – I guess he saved all his calories for dessert. I should have done the same!

The problem with this kind of big-guns lunch is returning to the workshops. Still, all very good, informational, meaningful stuff. Am I a sucker, or what?

Dinner was once again on us, but who wants to eat dinner when they’ve been feeding us all day? I took a bit of a break and checked out the pool and other areas. I didn’t bring my bathing suit for a multitude of reasons, but sat outside by one of the two bars and watched the kids (and adults). They have this lazy river motif going on that looks fantastic. Imagine plopping onto a float and letting a current float you along a “trail” through shady and sunny areas. Nice!

Deborah (my hero!) of sqpn roadie fame rescued me from the opulence of the Ritz and hauled me over to Disney opulence, where we enjoyed an unhurried stroll through EPCOT and had a light dinner in Germany (with me for mich). We saw some of the exhibits and then watched the great fireworks over the lake before heading back to the hotel. It was only 10 pm, but I hit that bed hard.

The only thing better would have been spending the evening with my honey. Happy birthday, Foofy!

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Another update, maybe not so long

Day 2

Breakfast was tasty – – certainly not the Holiday Inn continental breakfast. Among other things, there was a French Toast soufle. Yummy. I sat with some interesting folks and we actually had a fantastic conversation about boring educational stuff that was relevant and useful. It’s a good thing – – the first session today has killed me. Killed. Me. Proof that having a lot of degrees and being in a position of power and knowledge does not equal finesse in delivery. The presenter redeemed himself by speaking some unpleasant truths, which is either stupid or courageous.

The other sessions were greatly improved, but nothing tops the luncheon. Wow. I’m thinking that these good folks realize that they are on a mission to destroy us by “talking us to death” so they are making amends by feeding us to death.

I’m writing my recap of the day from the hotel bar, drinking a $6 domestic beer and munching on some potato skins. It’s all I can stand to eat after the grilled salmon luxurious banquet at noon. I didn’t really intend to give you the gastronomic tour of the conference, but here I am, contemplating taking a walk before retiring to the welcome solitude of my room.

Let’s just say I am intellectually exhausted from the information overload, and definitely socially exhausted by all the schmoozing and networking. I am currently sitting across from a woman who seems equally content to sip on her wine and avoid social contact.

Maybe there’s a good movie on the tube tonight. On second thought, I imagine it won’t matter. The minute I hit the bed I’m gonna be snoring.

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