That week, Alana and I had agreed that we wanted to leave for Anaheim around 7:00 a.m., so that morning I set my alarm for 5:50 a.m. An hour and ten minutes would give me enough time to get ready, finish packing, and eat breakfast. I've been using the same alarm for over five years, and it has never failed me. Yet, when my alarm went off that morning, it was 6:50, NOT 5:50. I had ten minutes before Alana was going to be pulling up in my driveway. Now one might argue, "You just thought you set your alarm for 5:50, but you actually set it for 6:50." That's what I thought, too. But nuh uh. I checked, and it was indeed set for 5:50. So the next argument might be, "You just pushed snooze for an hour." The problem with that theory is, not only am I not a snooze person (I haven't used the snooze button since high school), but my alarm's snooze is exactly nine minutes long. The number 9 is not a factor of 60, thus there is no amount of pushing snooze that would result in my alarm going off exactly one hour past it's designated time. The final argument is, "Your alarm was actually going off for the full hour, but you didn't hear it until 6:50." Really, though? Loud, blaring music at full-blast, and it took me exactly 60 minutes for it to jar me awake? That just doesn't seem plausible (plus, again, I'm a light sleeper. I have no history in the past fifteen years of sleeping through an alarm).
So it's official. Supernatural forces made my alarm go off an hour late.
Luckily, supernatural forces also made Alana show up at my house a half hour late, so instead of only having ten minutes to get ready, I had a half hour. It wasn't exactly the relaxing, organized morning I was going for, but it wasn't as disastrous as it could have been.
Once we left my house, we stopped at Circle K to get some coffee. We decided not to fuel up at the time, because it seemed like we had plenty of gas to get to our destination. I only bring this up because later, while we were stuck in traffic nearing Anaheim, the low fuel light came on in my car. It was mildly ironic (and would only happen to chicks--you men would've had the common sense to fill up while you were at the friggen' gas station). My car alarm also went off loud at that same gas station, and Alana's coffee cup was leaking in my car. Again, I only bring this up, because we had a lot of "little things" like this happen throughout the weekend (i.e. paying $15 for parking when a $5 lot was one block over, choosing a motel next to the wrong convention center, etc.).
The conference, which I mentioned in an earlier post, was awesome. There were several presenters that stood out, but my overall favorite was author Patsy Clairmont. She was down-to-earth, quirky, hilarious, and inspirational. She never tried to elevate herself above others or make herself sound special, despite all of the obstacles she managed to conquer in her past. Here are pics of the inside of the convention center. What the pictures can't capture is the ambiance--the beautiful dim lighting and music made for a really powerful atmosphere.
At one point of the conference, when the lights had dimmed to the point where it was almost completely dark, my contact popped out of my eye. For no reason whatsoever. I was just sitting there, and out it popped. It fell all the way to the floor, and with my vision now compromised and poor lighting, I had zero chance of finding it. So I handed my cell to Alana (I have a handy flashlight app) and she searched the floor for me. Luckily she found it, but now I had a new dilemma. What was I supposed to do with it? I didn't have a contact case or solution in my purse. And even if water worked on contacts (which it doesn't), I couldn't risk navigating the crowds in the auditorium to carry my $180 lens to the bathroom. So my solution? Spit on the sucker and pop it back in. Isn't that so gross? I mean, the thing had been on the floor, a floor which had been trampled on by God knows how many people. But that's what I did. I told Alana I was probably going to wake up the next morning with pink eye.
After Friday's conference, Alana and I went and explored Downtown Disney. Unfortunately these are the only pictures we took (in the Lego store). I tend to get lost in the experience of things and forget to take pics.
Alana and Robot Guy
That expression makes it look like I should've been reaching lower...?
That night, we ate dinner at the House of Blues, and then enjoyed happy hour (for much longer than an hour). House of Blues was a blast. Once the D.J. started to play decent music, Alana and I danced a ton. The most hilarious part of the night was when this one drunk guy kept trying to do a strip-tease, and his very loyal friends were perpetually shoving his shirt back on and trying to keep him out of trouble. He kept gravitating toward Alana, and at one point, before she could stop him, he jumped right in front of her and started doing a lap dance of sorts. She was laughing hysterically while simultaneously horrified, with this look of "Aghhhh, yuck!" on her face. A better friend would have stepped in, but I was busy trying to get a picture. Then I was planning to help. Yeah, next time I'll do better. Overall the guy was harmless, and he didn't cause either one of us any further trouble for the rest of the night.
After dinner and happy hour, we arrived back at our motel sometime after 2:00 a.m. I still remember the walk back...all of the dark shops, the sprinklers coming on, the cool, still air. It was such a beautiful night. But I was viewing everything through happy liquor goggles, so don't take my word on any of that.
The next morning, we had to get up early for Day 2 of the conference. Okay, I have a lot more I want to include, but I'm noticing that this entry is getting really long, so I'll sum up by saying that there were more awesome presentations, and I was tired (gee, you think?). Oh yeah, in every bathroom I went into that day, the soap dispenser was out of soap.
It sounds like you really had a good time! And you know, despite my never having worn contact lenses in my life, I literally cringed at the idea that you put it back in your eye. :D I can't even imagine, but I guess a girls gotta do what she's gotta do.
ReplyDeleteIt's okay, I cringed the whole time I was putting it in my eye. :-) But the idea of forking over the cash to buy a new one made me cringe more.
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