Thursday, August 26, 2010

The Aftermath

THE AFTERMATH by Maree Anderson (for Writers Gone Wild)

Hi y'all,

Sorry, no conference photos yet! Still haven't gotten round to seeing whether the piccies I took on my iPhone are any good. Yes, I forgot to take my camera. Doh!

Let's see, what else happened. Oh yeah: No pink wig, either. It was too darned hot in the hotel to even consider wearing a wig at the awards dinner. No one wants to risk dripping perspiration into her food, okay? It's bad enough seeing it happen on a particular cooking show that shall remain nameless. Eeeew.

However, the sparkly full-length evening dress did get an outing, as did the fire-engine red halter for the cocktail party. And hey, that red dress is now my lucky dress because, for the first time ever at a conference, I won a raffle. Specifically, the cocktail party raffle donated by the convenor of our RWNZ Auckland chapter, Frances Housden. So, among other delights, now I have chocolates, French champers--and goblets to drink it from-- crackers and fancy cheeses, and a huuuuge pile of books to keep me happy. Believe me, the basket was so darned heavy I could hardly lift it. Woot!

And now I must relate a cautionary tale for anyone staying in a hotel.

Woke up on Friday morning with my alarm. Headed for my lovely hotel bathroom with the intention of having somewhat more than a five minute shower. I'd allowed time to wallow, and wallow, I was darn well gonna do! So I stripped off and turned on the shower tap.... only to be confronted with a jet of icy cold water that pretty much smacked me right in the face and drenched me from head to toe.

Talk about a wake-up call.

As you can imagine, the shrieks and imprecations were rather loud and rather unladylike. And continued while I quickly shut off the tap, and mopped up the bathroom floor, and found a place to hang the dripping wet towel.

Only plus? At least I was now very wide awake. Awake enough, in fact, to figure out how in the hell that jet of cold water could have achieved such a wondrous feat.

Seems whoever cleaned the shower, had directed the shower rose straight out--probably to rinse off the tiles. And, you guessed it, she--or he--had left it in that position. Pointing straight out, directed at the next unsuspecting guest. I remember my cleaner doing that a couple of times in the kids' shower, and the kids copping a faceful of water. It's. Not. Fun.

Moral: always check the position of the shower rose, so that you're not treated to a chilly wake-up call.

Oh, and I have one more pearl of wisdom to impart. This one specifically geared toward conferences.

Be prepared. Like, for anything!

I sooo wasn't, BTW. I stepped straight from a pitch and into an improptu TV interview. Yikes. 'Nuff said. You never know when a camera crew might be lurking, ready to pounce upon the unwary. Or even a radio interviewer -- I had that happen to me a couple of years back, too! And I can only wish I'd been as prepared for both of those situations, as I was for my pitch.

That's it from me for now.

P.S. Check out the BADASS interview that Saranna posted yesterday! Seems we have an honorary Wild Dude to add to our ranks. How awesome is that???

Welcome, Ben!




Jennie said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It's funny 'cause it didn't happen to me! If it makes you feel any better, I forgot to pack any flat shoes for the Sydney conference. Four days straight in heels when you usually only wear them once in a blue moon was murder! I tried going barefoot at one point but the hotel staff politely asked me to put my shoes back on...*sigh*

Maree Anderson said...

Oh noes! I feel your pain about the shoes, Jennie. Night. Freaking. Mare. Ouch! At least my cold wakeup call was over and done with quickly, LOL.


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