Tired, But Cheery

Home again.

It was spittering rain in Wisconsin when I left; my plane didn't land on time in Chicago because of traffic there, where there was real actual rain. An hour and a half later, when my plane boarded, it had progressed to full out thunderstorms, and so we were held on the ground until the lightning cleared up. Not so bad--except that while we were holding, someone had a "medical emergency" in the lavatory--I suspect it was a heart attack. I actually got to hear a flight attendant ask over the PA, "Are there any medical personnel on the flight?" Then, many EMS arrived, and then (finally) an ambulance. The sick person was removed, looking, well, terrible. By this time the lightning had stopped and we were cleared to leave. Except that an igniter in the right engine wasn't working, and we had to be cleared to fly without it (apparently this is no big deal) which took a little while. In the end, we left maybe forty minutes late. Given all the excitement that's not bad. And the blessed Spouse picked me up at the airport. And the dog was happy to see me (and Avocado was asleep).

And now I will fall over.

Wiscon

I had a splendid time. People kept saying "This can't be your first Wiscon," which I took to mean that I fit right in. I met people whose names I knew, people I hadn't seen forever, people I'd never met before. I read part of "Somewhere in Dreamland Tonight," at the Book View Cafe reading; talked about gender and robots (and got an idea for a story) and about the pros and cons of giving heroines (and heroes) offspring; watched klages do the auction from a wheelchair! and bring the audience to tears with her GoH speech; had lovely lunches and dinners and snacks with all sorts of people, and conversation after conversation after conversation with many more. And I am reminded of the pleasure of hanging out with really smart people--even though it reminds me I'm not as smart, well-read, well-educated or (in some cases) well-dressed as they are.

I know there were problems--there always are, because even the best convention is full of, like, people, who are at least in part made of fail--that were immensely painful to those affected. I missed a some of these problems by the simple expedient of being in the wrong place at the right time (if that makes any sense), and some because I'm not the target for that particular brand of fail. I've heard about a good deal of it after the fact, though. One panel in particular I am glad I missed, because it would have had me sputtering with rage, and I don't do rage in a useful way--I just sputter.

Possibly my very favorite moment of the whole convention was at the end of sign-out, when suddenly I found myself in a group of people singing old show tunes, spirituals, folk songs, more old show tunes. I forget sometimes how much I love to sing in a group. That made me uncomplicatedly happy.

And on Monday afternoon I went off with a bundle of people to play pool and drink draught cider and decompress from the weekend, and that was good too. I have my room reserved for next year and have already informed the Spouse that I'll be in Wisconsin for Memorial Day weekend (unless the school system decides to do something insane and have Avocado's 8th grade graduation that weekend or something, which I doubt).

And Now that I'm Back

I'm trying to map out my trips east in June and August.

June seems to be pretty clear cut: red-eye to Newark. Drive to Vermont with Avocado, where she has a bat mitzvah to go to. Then, visit my father for a couple of days. Then drive down to Pennsylvania, where I will hand her over to her father (and spend the night visiting my in-laws) then return to Newark and fly home (unless someone really, really wants me to visit in NYC before I return).

August is more complex, in that I need to find a place for at least one overnight in New York, because I'm flying in on Friday or Saturday, picking up the kid at 3pm on Sunday afternoon, and we're returning that evening on a flight that gets in at midnight, SF time, because school starts the next morning.

And I'm beginning to remember that I'm, like, middle aged, and this all used to be much more of a song and much less of a slog.

I tried diagramming all of this, but my head exploded. Time to walk the dog.

It's Just a Little Scary

8th-grade-president.gif
Originally uploaded by madrobins

Guess who's running for class officer?

The living room is full of campaign posters with the tag line "Looking Ahead to a Brighter 8th Grade." And that illo, of course.

And I'm printing out tiny little "Vote for Avocado" stickers. Even the dog is wearing one on her collar. It's such an interesting world.