Sunday Morning Coming Down

Way-ell.

What a weekend it has been, dear readers. What. A. Weekend.

On the Babcia front -- she lives! After spending some time mourning and feeling sad for her whilst on the Vineyard (she was taken to the hospital on Wednesday for rehydration) I called home, and talked to PP, who said she'd turned the corner back to life. So part of me feels a smidge like The Boy Who Cried Wolf only instead I am the Woman Who Cried Dead Grandma. So I thank you all for all your thoughts and prayers and I'm glad the Babcia is comfy and happy and not-dead and I can only hope she continues in that fashion until she is not-not-dead.

So. The Vineyard. I have several stories to tell. First, the overall picture -- in a word, overwhelming. This was a conference made up pretty much entirely of powerful, wealthy, intelligent, driven people -- to the nth degree. I unfortunately was not listed in the guidebook so nobody knew my role as a writer and I was viewed more as a helper and therefore was largely ignored -- ignored to the point, unfortunately, where at lunch on the last day, a gentleman came and sat down next to me, realized who I was, and, I shit you not, made up an excuse and got up and left.

So that was insulting.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut there is a positive side to all of this which is that I know what to do the NEXT time I am in this situation -- barter for more notoriety. Ask to be introduced to more people. I do have to thank one SK for doing that even without my asking -- he introduced me to this man, as both potential suitor and employer. It was such a compliment to get that sort of a fix-up. I would say the overall lesson from this would be to believe in myself more. Which I do.

One more quick story -- with more reflections to come later: On Friday afternoon, I was timing a session -- basically I'm like a ring girl, holding up signs to let the moderator know how much time is left until break. Well didn't two of the most attractive non-wedding-ring-wearing men just sit down on either side of me. Woo-hoo me, I thought. That is, until I was summarily ignored by both -- they also ignored the speaker. Instead I heard, at times, simultaneous clicking noises as they either furiously Blackberried or munched on their fingernails as if they hadn't eaten in years.

Crazy stuff.