...of my frayed nerves, living my life in accordance with other people's schedules.
Shite.
For more than a week, no less.
Yes, I am rather spoiled, aren't I?
Most people live the majority of their lives in accordance with other people's schedules.
I most definitely
am spoiled.
As the bfe would say, mine is a first-world problem.
A pretty minor problem, at that.
So, what am I grousing about?
Well, from Monday to Saturday of last week, I had to get up around 7 AM.
This morning, too.
Yeah, I know, waah waah.
You should realize that I am
not a morning person. Generally, my mind does not waken until 9 AM, so there is hardly any point in my rising earlier, is there?
No, no, there isn't.
I have known this about myself since I was in my early twenties, doing the 2-2-2-80 shiftwork in the United States Navy. Fortunately, during that eight-day schedule, I only had to rise early for two (that first "2") of those days. The other two refer to two mids (graveyard shifts) and two evenings, followed by 80 hours off.
(Aside: As I was writing that, the Beatles'
"Eight Days A Week"popped into my head. Feel free to go have a listen! I did.)
Why was I rising early on those days last week and today?
Well, let's start with last week, shall we?
On Monday through Thursday, breakfast was scheduled for 7:00 AM to 7:45 AM.
No, not by me.
I was in Virginia for the
52nd Biennial Conclave of
Alpha Chi Sigma, my chemistry fraternity.
They are the ones who scheduled breakfast at that insanely early time.
You see, the first meetings began sharply (all double entendres, indeed) at 0800, 8:00 AM for civilians. I was not a delegate, thank God, so I was allowed to arrive whenever I choose.
For two of the four days, I was there about 9 AM.
(See what I was saying?)
For the other two mornings, I arrived in time for the 10 AM coffee break.
Breakfast?
For me, that was generally from 8 to 8:30.
Oh, yeah.
Once I found out the breakfast hours for the
Observatory Hill Dining Hall, I was good.
I especially enjoyed those omelets, made to order with bacon, spinach, and tomatoes!
There was also a very nice view,
looking through the treetops at a lovely, lush green lawn.
That made the trip down the hill
and up two flights of stairs
for coffee and breakfast
almost
worth the hassle every morn.
Almost.
Why was I even there?
For the past two years, I've been trying to be more active in AXE, probably because I was more active in the
American Chemical Society. That, no doubt, was a direct result of my working full-time as a teacher at Armstrong.
While I was married, I had let my memberships in both chemical groups wane. I was in Savannah and there are no local chapters of Alpha Chi Sigma here, either collegiate or professional. I paid my dues each year, as I did with ACS, which is the reason I am still regarded as "active", but that's been it.
Two years ago, as my 25th Anniversary with AXE approached, I attended the local district conclave. Held at
George T. Bagby State Park, in the wilds of west Georgia, I tried to connect with folks I didn't know. I take that back. I knew
one person, an older teacher, like myself, who had been at FSU for the 40th Biennial Conclave of AXE. (I had largely sat that one out, having graduate school duties to attend.)
Between that one person (shout out to Gary Anderson) and the SouthEast District Professional Representative (shout out to Matt Schnippert), I was encouraged to pursue a better relationship with my brothers in chemical arms. So, having new money to invest, I became a Brother For Life.
That may not sound like a real big deal to you, but it has given me more of a sense of family with these folks I don't know. After all, our first Fraternal Object is
To bind its members with a tie of true and lasting friendship. With that in mind, I registered to attend every day of this Conclave, for the full immersion experience. I should add that
the essay from D. Mitch helped with that decision.
For that, I am glad.
I had forgotten how much fun the initiations are. We were treated to two rituals, one a re-enactment from 1910 (!!!) and the other an Honor Initiation, using the wording and rituals from around 1928. That second one is fairly close to the one currently used.
I had forgotten about motions from the Levity Committee during the General Meetings. True to their name, the members added a much needed lighter touch to the more somber rhetoric.
I had forgotten how good it was to get to know folks who shared the same experiences. Through the birth process of initiation, we were truly family for having that shared entry into the world. Sure, we had grown apart over the years, but the prussian blue and chrome yellow running in our veins still united us.
We had all been admonished to take part in the meetings, to strengthen our knowledge of AXE, and "
to be outgoing and friendly, to mix and mingle and to get to know your Brothers from other parts of the country."
I took that last part to heart. I sat with different people at each and every meal, engaging them in conversation. I sat with different people at almost all of the meetings. I conversed with different people during the morning and afternoon breaks. I sat with different people at the two "Night Out on The Corner" events I attended, ending the first and third evenings at
Trinity, a Chicsgo/Irish pub.
I've now added quite a few of my chemistry brethren to my facebook group of friends and family. I look forward to learning more about them and adding more as time proceeds.
That said, I'm very glad I had a room of my own at Conclave.
I need to be able to have a space of my own at the end of a day, a place that allows my head time to sort the bits and bytes acquired. As I told someone there, I essentially grew up as an only child, in that I was the only girl and always had my own room, my personal space. My three brothers always had to share a room.
What was the deal with Friday and Saturday?
Friday was checkout from the Balz-Dobie dorm at the University of Virginia. Knowing there would be
no coffee and
no breakfast, I had, at least, planned ahead. I had taken all of my belongings to my car the night before, as I would wear the same clothes twice. (New panties, of course.) I had also set aside a banana and a granola bar from the previous day's morning break.
No, no coffee.
But all of that tended to work in my favor.
After driving for forever in the rain, I came upon
this delight:
the
Pink Cadillac Diner.
Located near Natural Bridge, it was out in the middle of nowhere, shimmering in all of its blue-trimmed pink glory between an auto repair shop and an old-fashioned motel.
It was like a mirage, beckoning through the raindrops!
And the coffee?
Piping hot and tasty fresh,
served in their
signature pink mug -
you
know I bought one!
And the food?
I had Steve's Big Breakfast:
lots of crisp bacon, two slabs of country ham, two eggs, perfect grits, potato bits, a huge biscuit, and sausage gravy.
Sure made me forget about that drive in the rain!
I bet I sat there for an hour, too, enjoying the old movie posters, the LP's and 45's on the wall, the statue of Elvis, that beautiful old jukebox...
Shout out to my ex for encouraging me to look for the local eats when on the road!
That was Friday morn. Why the early rise on Saturday?
I had told my youngest brother I was coming to see him for visitation on that day. I had let him know about a month ago.
You know, at
Hays State Prison.
I had stayed the night in Dalton, about an hour and a piece away from Summerville, or Trion, or thereabouts.
Visitation would begin at 9 AM and I wanted to be there as close to that time as possible.
So, up at 7 AM I was, again.
Sigh.
At least that
Quality Inn has good coffee!
And off I went, even arriving early! The guard took my information, to alert the dorm that my brother had a visitor. Yeah!
Then I had to wait in line to go through the security checkpoint.
That took almost thirty minutes. I signed in at 9:26 AM.
I passed through security and walked over to the Visitation Center. I turned in my visitation sheet, surprised to find Tony was not yet there. I aettled in to wait. It was already 9:40 AM.
And I waited. And waited. And waited.
After a little over thirty minutes, I asked what was going on. They told me we had to wait for him to get ready. I told them I was sure he was already ready, as he knew I was coming.
I let another ten minute pass. Then I asked again. Where was he?
Well, as it turns out, the runner had called the wrong Smith up from his dorm. I guess "Anthony" and "Shawn" sound alike, right???
Finally, a little after 10:30 AM, Tony walks through the door.
We were both a bit "grumpy", as the guard called it, and it took three long hugs to set things right, but... things did get set right. We had a very good visit for the next four hours, sharing buffalo pretzel bites and Butterfingers, dining on "Big AZ" cheeseburgers and chicken sandwiches - the vending machines were well stocked.
Then, we had two hugs of farewell and I was off to Hiram to see my BFF's darlin' dancin' daughter.
She and I shared
"Transcendence", several episodes of "
The Big Bang Theory", and
"West Side Story". Why that last movie? It had been mentioned in one of TBBT's episodes and she had never seen it. Plus, I totally love that musical!
And on Sunday morning?
I slept in!
So did she. We neither of us stirred until about 10 AM. Ah, blessed sleep, with no alarm clock to startle the morning air!
We took our sweet bippy time, too, just puttering around until we set off to see "
Guardians of the Galaxy". Sadly, it was sold out, so we watched "
Hercules" instead. My second time, her first, but totally enjoyable! Then we picked up my BFF at the airport, retrieved her car and headed back to the house.
Why was the BFF aboard a plane?
Why was it necessary that I see her this weekend, instead of heading straight home after conclave and my visit to Tony?
Long story. For the short version, start
here.
Same song, different verse.
Sigh.
I see.
You also mentioned rising early today. Why was that?
I was asked to take the BFF's daughter, and her twirling flag, to school that morning. It would be easier on her if she didn't have to haul it there on the bus. She would be getting her parking permit that day, so she would have an assigned space for her car after that.
So, I agreed to do so.
Even though it meant rising at 7 AM.
Shudder.
After dropping her off, I readied my car and headed into Atlanta.
The peace Guy had arranged to meet me for brunch on his second day off.
He had recommended
The Flying Biscuit, Midtown, for our rendezvous. Good suggestion!
A very nice place to wind down and eat up before the drive home!
Creamy dreamy grits, eggs with ham and collards, and, of course, a flying biscuit!
Well, not literally.
smile
Now my rant is done.
I plan to sleep until noon tomorrow.
