So this weekend was the regional MLA conference for the South Central region and somehow or another I got roped into it. I say that not because I don't like going to conferences, but because I really didn't even know I was going until about three weeks ago when I got a urgent message saying I still hadn't paid my registration fees. So, I figured, well, what the heck?!
So, after class on Friday I got in the car and drive the 5 hours to Hot Springs ("boyhood home of President Bill Clinton" for those of you who aren't impressed). But of course I misprinted the directions and in the dark in the middle of a dark and twisty road in rural in Arkansas with questionable looking characters at a gas station I'm locked in my car, asking my mom in Seattle asking her to google where I am and how far I have to go.
When I finally got to the hotel I found out that they were "pretty booked" and despite my reservation didn't actually have a room for me. While the lame-o clerk didn't have the authority to do anything but ask repeatedly in a monotone voice what language I studied and why my hair dryer had that "thing" (aka diffuser) on the end of it, we anxiously awaited the supervisor to "find" me a room. So I got an upgrade (to a room with a tub and shower rather than just a shower stall). But it was also and end room that looked at the loading dock, didn't have any heat, and had paper thin walls. Lovely.
So I ordered room service since I got the last parking spot a block down in the free garage and didn't feel like trekking back through the 3" puddle (surprise it was the last spot and I didn't feel like paying $15 for valet) to go back out and get food. I ordered a taco salad.....and an hour later it showed up. Granted, it was good when it got there. It was also the hottest thing in the room (regular room temperature whereas I was clearly sitting in Arkansas's idea of an icebox).
This morning I got up early and went to register. No one showed up to our panel. And when I say no one. I mean, we even begged the woman who came into steal a chair for the panel next door to stay. We even asked some random passerby to listen in. They both said no. So we read to each other. That was fun. Or awkward. You decide.
So, about thirteen hours after my arrival in the bustling metropolis of Hot Springs, AR I was headed back home. And I like to sing int he car as much as the next guy, but 10 hrs in 24? It's a little much. But, I'm glad I went. Turns out the three South Central Region Italiansts (2 + me that is) are AWESOME. You probably already knew that (because I'm one of them), but let me just tell you again. WE ROCK. You should be jealous. And you should come listen to the next panel so we aren't alone again. Having to do it more than once would just be weird.
No comments:
Post a Comment