Exhaustion. Thou art my middle name. And first. And last. In fact, it seems to be the only thing I can identify with anymore.
As you know, (if you've been reading my blogs- if not, you've got a lot of catching up to do, and I would lecture you about how disappointed I am, but really, I'm too darn tired to expend that kind of energy, so moving on) we have been traveling a bit in the last several weeks.
My latest trip, to New York, has not been without its fair share of adventure. This trip was to attend my step-daughter's graduation and 'Gradirthday party,' her combined graduation and eighteenth birthday.
Unlike Ohio (with accommodations at the Hyatt provided by the convention), this time we were staying at the, well, let's call it the Mediocre 7 1/2. The differences between the two were never more exemplified than the day my husband made the discovery of a 'foreign object' under the bed. At the Hyatt we were likely to have monsters under the bed (remember, haunter's convention), here we had an Unidentified Lying Object.
Said object, looked to my husband like toast. How it got under there is anyone's guess. However, upon the arrival of the maid service, he made mention of it. Here's how the conversation went:
Husband: There seems to be something under the bed.
Maid: Okay?
Husband: I'm not sure what it is, but it seems to have been left by the previous occupants.
Maid: Silence. And confusion.
Husband: (Feeling the need to qualify his statement) It looks like bread or toast.
Maid: (Completely mystified) Do you want me to take a look?
Inside my head: Nope, just thought it was an interesting conversation starter. Breaking the ice with a bit of 'dubious remnants of trash' humor. (Now at this point I'm thinking she should be dying of shame that the room was so poorly cleaned between occupants. Not so.)
Husband: Uh, yeah.
Maid gets down on the floor, peers under the bed and says: Yeah, I see it. It looks like a piece of paper.
And then she gets back up
Apparently her work here is done.
Husband: Okaaayyy….
Maid: (Still baffled) Did you want me to remove it?
Inside my head: Nope, no, just wanted verification that it was indeed there. I love the thought of an Unidentified Lying Object hanging out mere inches away from where I'm sleeping. Leave it there, I'll give it a name and adopt it as a new pet. Maybe I can put it on a leash and teach it to walk.
Husband: (Gives up and walks away.)
Maid looks to me for an answer to her question.
Me: If you wouldn't mind. (aka if it's not too much to ask to DO your ACTUAL job…)
Sadly, when the ULO (aka bread, aka paper) was brought out into the light, it was still unidentifiable. I, for one, am glad it was removed. Whatever it was.
There were more important things to focus on. There was a Gradirthday in the offing, and we focused on that.
Now let me tell you, those DTRJH? moments that inspire my blog; there is no avoiding them, they happen to all of us. And my step-daughter and her mother (who reads this blog and told me to refer to her, and I quote, as 'My husband's crazy ex-wife' and therefore will be referred to as MHCEW from this point forward with her permission- hey it was her idea- who am I not to run with it?) are no exception. Looking back on my son's graduation, I should have realized there was no way my step-daughter's would go off without a hitch.
Allow me to elaborate (because let's get real, you know I will): My son's graduation was a complete and unmitigated disaster. Mid ceremony, a huge storm system blew through town, bringing multiple tornadoes with it, causing them to cancel the graduation midway and hustle us all across the street to the 'safe building with the storm shelter.' Because running in heels through torrential rains and driving winds across a four lane road is always the better option
At any rate, we all reached the 'safe building' completely drenched, at which point they made the announcement to roughly two hundred and thirty grads that they would not be rescheduling the event. (The powers that be had decided that since the salutatorian and valedictorian had given their speeches, and the honor's students had already walked and received their own diplomas, there was no reason to cater to the two hundred odd students who had been robbed of the experience.)
It's kind of like being left at the altar. You dress up and show up for the event, eager and excited, but the bride/groom never comes. It was awesome. The would-be graduates were all broken-hearted as they stood there bawling, their sodden caps and gowns sagging with their spirits.
For this reason, my son's open house actually took place before he graduated, where we held a mini-graduation on the back deck, utilizing the plastic graduation cap and tiny diploma off the cake. We recorded it. It was fabulous. Some of his friends hummed Pomp and Circumstance, while he made his 'walk' across the 'stage,' complete with feigned trip, and received his 'diploma' from a co-non-graduate. It took us a while to find the 'cap' after he threw it in the air…
On a side note, the following Monday it was decided to reschedule the event. (The tremendous amount of vandalism following the epic failure of a ceremony, and the even more epic failure to re-schedule the ceremony, had no bearing on their decision whatsoever… Or so they insisted.) The graduation was held, again, the following Friday- or as I like to call it, 'Graduation Take Two.' Once more violent storms raged around us (this time sans the tornadoes) and thus my son was rained upon on both days. I can't wait for his wedding…
Naturally, I was hoping for better regarding my step-daughter. But if you read this blog, then you know what the odds of that are.
The graduation was slated for Friday evening, with the party to follow on Sunday afternoon. We headed over to my step-daughter's house late Saturday morning to assist with the party preparations. The county was under a heat advisory, and it was hot. And humid. And thick.
I was grateful that the ceremony was slated for later in the day. The thought of broiling in the full sun on a football field was not very inviting. Which brings me to the question, why, oh why, was the ceremony outside? I can understand it with a large graduating class. You can't house four or five hundred kids plus their parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in a gymnasium, I get that.
But this was a small class, roughly two hundred thirty kids. You CAN accommodate this inside a gym; I know, been there done that. Four times. Just sayin'.
So there we were, hanging out with my step-daughter and MHCEW, when the phone rang. I watched as MHCEW answered the phone and listened to a recording. Then the phone just dropped right out of her hand and landed on the kitchen floor, vomiting its batteries on impact.
Somehow I knew it was bad news.
I'm pretty perceptive that way.
The ceremony was being delayed until the next day due to the 'threat of inclement weather.'
Okey dokey.
New schedule. Ceremony with party to immediately follow.
All previous plans flew right out the window as we now had to roll with the altered agenda.
Deciding that we apparently had the entire day now open to us, we used the time wisely, setting up the tent etc. in the sweltering heat.
Did I mention it was hot?
We barely had the canopy up, when the storm moved in. And it was a pretty big one. With lots of rain, lots of wind, and lots of lightning. So naturally, like a bunch of idiots, we all sat under the canopy while we worked. Ignoring the fact that the ground was covered in standing water and we were completely surrounded by tent posts, or in this case, lightning rods. The wind blew, the thunder rattled, and lightning lit the sky. And we stayed outside. Because we are nitwits.
Finally the storm passed, with no one getting fried to a crisp. (A miracle in and of itself.) It was much cooler then, which was wonderful, so we were all inclined to continue our out of doors experience.
I was just saying something to MHCEW when the slightest flash barely (and I do mean SLIGHTEST and BARELY) lit the area. I had been about to say, 'Did you see that?' when the CRASH-BANG-BOOM interrupted me. Damn nature, never lets you get a word in edgewise.
We all jumped. I think we even wet ourselves a little bit. Or maybe that was just me.
I was convinced the lightning had hit the line of trees which runs along and behind the house and was directly beside us, and I frantically looked around, waiting for one to come crashing through the tent. Luckily, nothing happened.
It was later, as we were driving back to the hotel that MHCEW called and said, 'So, I was just doing dishes and looking out the kitchen window, and I noticed my foliage looked a little different. And then I noticed there were two deer nibbling on the leaves of the tree that was LAYING DOWN in my back yard.'
Now, we can't be certain if that tree was struck by lightning, or just blown over. However, it was less than a hundred feet from where we had all been sitting under the tent. Proof that God does indeed protect idiots and children…
Naturally I said to her, 'You know this is going in my blog, right?'
As far as the graduation ceremony, aside from sitting outside for two and a half hours in the blistering sun, netting everyone a shiny, spankin' new sunburn, the actual graduation went off without a hitch. For the most part.
I have heard a lot of renditions of 'Pomp and Circumstance' in my time. But I have to say, this one, a 'jazz' (and I use the term loosely) rendition, trombone solo, was by far the most interesting, ummmm unique, errrr distinctive, version I've ever witnessed. I like to call it 'Pooped and Circumcision,' because that's what it sounded like was going on. It was not so much jazz, as dying goose. Which only got funnier when I later learned that their school mascot is the gander.
However, my step-daughter finally got her moment in the sun (no pun intended, though it did make me giggle), and walked the stage to receive her diploma. She was beautiful and radiant and deservedly excited, and I was so very proud of her. Her party went off without a hitch, and I know she had a great time.
We had survived lightning and downed trees; we made it through ULO's and Pooped and Circumcised; we had done it all and lived to tell about it. Now it was time to head home.
Just as soon as we got through airport security.
Upon our arrival at Albany International Airport, I was shocked, amazed, and flabbergasted to discover, that unlike other airports which generally have eight to a dozen, and sometimes even more, security stations, Albany has four. Count them four. And two of these were closed.
This would be sufficient for say, 'Mom and Pop's Fly By Night,' but Albany? The capitol city of one of the largest states in the nation and an international airport to boot. Two? Really??
The line for security filled the roped off area in its entirety. It then extended across the room and onto the skywalk. But we're not done yet. It snaked ACROSS the ENTIRE skywalk, which bridged four lanes of traffic and a very wide median, and into the next building. It took two minutes just to walk to the end of the line. Now that right there is what you call efficiency.
And I couldn't help but think, as I stood there in that line, shuffling forward a millimeter or two every few minutes, boy do I have a lot of material for my blog. How am I ever going to condense it all down?
Bear with me; I did the best I could
No comments:
Post a Comment