Damp Sunday

September 2, 2012 Uncategorized  No comments

It has rained all day, on and off.  Our share of the storms in the gulf lately, I assume, and it’s not rained hard, at least not where I am.  Just constantly drippy, from the heavens or the tree branches, one or the other.

So a week ago I was just getting home from GLLA.  I was so tired I could hardly manage the stairs awake, but really glad at how well it had gone.  I had more fun this year than I have in years.

drew was not with me the last two years, and that’s part of it, I always have more fun when he’s around, despite the fact he can be a monumental pain in the ass, but that’s part of the appeal, too.  He also knows me so well that he needs little guidance.  He knows what I will want and where I will want it and how things are done, and that makes it easier, too, because I don’t have to think about that at all.

I had so much help in general that it was so much less stressful.  Most things I do now I’ve done for a long enough time that they don’t require a lot of supervision and some things are small enough or I know that the person doing it will do an essentially ok job, even if it’s not just the way I’d prefer, and I had some of the best of both of that this year.  I had people who had done things before, or I knew they could do it this time without as much direction, and we had so many things going on that if one event didn’t get pulled off, it would not be a disaster.

I’ve been lucky over the years about those things.  I don’t think anything has really gone poorly or not gone at all, other than an event I dreamed up a few years back that was going to be some kind of mixer and literally no one showed up.

I hadn’t done a very good job with it, I hadn’t scheduled it well and I hadn’t gotten the right publicity about it out there and it just fizzled, but that didn’t bother me because it was ME doing it, so I didn’t have to apologize to someone else for poor attendance due to me not getting something done.

We waited about twenty minutes, my volunteer person who was going to do something for me – take tickets or papers or something when people came in – and I.  Dara is one of my favorite people, honestly.  She is just no drama.

Dara took over the Indianapolis Munch at one point, and I had been the first regular host of that munch, too, though I was only there a year.  She came two or three hosts after me, but I always liked her and liked her ability to genuinely get along with pretty much anybody while not being a pushover when people behaved badly.

Dara has also been great about doing some special last-minute thing for me at GLLA.  I don’t even remember them all, I have done a lot of things at GLLA over the years, some things stay on because they work, somethings don’t work and they go away, for one reason or another.

Dara was doing whatever awful mixer I’d planned and the total consequence of no one showing up was us doing something else then instead.  I’ve had more good luck than bad and I always have contingency plans, too.  I always know what I can pull together if something doesn’t come off, if the group that was going to do X doesn’t actually DO X, if the outdoor soiree I’d planned happened during a thunderstorm, whatever.

I so rarely play that it was a lot of fun to do that this weekend, since that is kind of the point of it.

Some years the food options compared with my schedule meant that I rarely got a chance to eat anything other than leftovers from whatever luncheon or reception I’d had. This year wasn’t bad.

I did make the mistake of bringing a couple of cookies from the buffet back to my room which involved going past Cerrin, who is known for being the Cookie Slut.  She narrowed her eyes and looked at the cookies I was suddenly clutching guiltily.

“Are those store bought?”  She might have been asking if they were made from dung beetles and human blood, given the disdain in her voice.

“Um, I don’t know, they looked good and I think they might be home made, and, uh, um…”  I said this while trying ineffectually to hide them.

That apparently brought out her generous side, because she said, “All right, if you promise not to ENJOY them…”  I assured her I wouldn’t, and scampered off, and I didn’t break my promise, they were apparently awful because drew – the same drew who ate ALL my cookies from Cerrin – threw them away because they were unbaked in the center.  Ah, well.

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