Blessed

There are times when the heavens open up and grace us with special gifts that are too good to be from this earth.

Cadbury has come out with dark chocolate Mini Eggs.

Be still my heart.

California

Forgive me dear Working Mommy readers, it seems that when Cynthia gets busy, blogging is the first thing to fall off the radar.

I am home from California. This trip was of extremes: when it was good, it was perfect; when it was bad, it made you never want to leave your house again.

Here's a long-winded recap of my first American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons conference in San Diego.

DAY 1 - TUESDAY
Leave at 4:45am for the airport. Flight is delayed 40 minutes. Just enough time to screw me over for my connection in Toronto. Arrive at Pearson and run like the wind through the airport to retrieve my luggage and bring it through customs. Luggage isn't showing up. Flight to SD is delayed by 20 minutes because so many connecting passengers haven't checked in yet (me included). 10 minutes to take off and still no luggage. I'm pretending that I'm not about to cry. The attendant tells me to get on the plane without my bags otherwise I'd be stuck overnight in Toronto. There is only one flight a day to SD. He'll route my luggage to LA and then they'll fly it to me from there. I will have it that night or next morning at the latest. I get to San Diego at noon and file a lost luggage claim with Air Canada.

I'm 20 minutes into a 45 minute long line up for a taxi when I realize I forgot the signs for the cocktail reception in the overhead bin on the plane. Run back in to airport, go through all security checks again, get to the gates and luckily find the signs. But things are already not off to a good start.

Arrive at the hotel to find it exactly as I feared. A run down Day's Inn with room doors on the exterior (picture cheap roadside motels). To get to my room I had to walk all the way down the side of the building to the very end,
then go into an elevator up to the third floor. Then down this odd scary hallway where my room was around the corner.






I stayed on the highest floor I could because the doors on the first floor had gates bolted to the fronts of them which could not mean good things.

Make my way to Fashion Valley. An indoor/outdoor shopping experience with a collection of the best stores on the planet. I shop from 2:00pm - 8:00pm and feel like there is hope in this world after all. Fish tacos for dinner. Culinary mistake. Call it an early night.

DAY 2 - WEDNESDAY
Rise and shine at 5:30am. It's convention day. Register, walk around, absorb the gigantic nature of it all. Expected attendance is 30, 000. Our biggest meetings host 1,200 and they knock us unconscious. I don't know how they manage all of these people. I notice right away that women are few and far between. I attend a day of sessions, take notes, walk the exhibit hall, schmooze. Have lunch with my boss at the Marriott hotel. I am the only woman in the restaurant. Chicken Gumbo soup in the States is actually very spicy.

During the evening I attend the conference's opening ceremonies and a private cocktail party put on by one of our affiliates. The party is lukewarm which makes me feel better because I know that ours (which is the next night) will kick its ass. I eat 1/4 of the cocktail cheese tray for dinner.

Still no luggage. They tell me it's left Toronto but they don't know where it is. I turn down offers from UBC surgeons to go for drinks and instead head to Target to buy more clothes for Thursday. I declare Target as being the funnest place on earth. I want my stuff and miss home. I cannot look children directly in the face because they all look like Simon. Reports of Simon misbehaving at daycare start coming in and don't stop for the rest of the week. He suffers through a strict punishment of no TV or toys in the evening for the entire week. Every day Rich picks him up, his teachers say he has not been listening and is 'acting out'. Guilt settles in and doesn't allow my stomach to digest food properly.

DAY 3 - THURSDAY
Bright and early again. My feet are ravished by yesterday's new shoes. They were sensible but they were brand new and I was on my feet walking huge distances for 12 hours. The 3 hour time difference won't settle in. I'm bummed and distracted. I'm already tired of only being around men for three days.

I have a busy program today. Morning lectures and meetings, more exhibit hall schmoozing, afternoon symposium. The hotel calls me and tells me that my luggage is in. I take off to my room and change. For the first time since I've landed in California, I smile.

After another full day of sessions, it's now time to pimp up for the reception we're hosting which was one of the main reasons why I was asked to attend this convention. Chocolate brown cocktail dress and 3 1/2 inch heels to match. My feet are falling to pieces. I tape them back together with bandaids and blister pads. I figure if I drink enough tonight, I will forget about the pain.

The cocktail is in a courtyard of an old historic hotel. The set up is beautiful. I'm already proud of myself. We're expecting a flow of 150 people. One hour into the reception and there are 250 and no flow. Everyone is staying. It's a hit. I get rave reviews and I'm pleased but hungry. I get an offer for Mexican from some of my University of Western Ontario (UWO) residents and my older graduates. I used to consider them all snobs because they never socialized outside of their circle at our meetings. I end up spending the rest of the week with them. I want food but need to hang back until every one's gone so I can close the bar. I call last call. The hangerons head to the bar for what I think is one last drink - instead they walk back with five Heineken's in each hand. I'm not impressed and take it personally. This party had my name all over it and some of these guys I considered my friends. They drink two of their 1000 beers and leave the rest behind. I find the Mexican restaurant as everyone is leaving. No dinner again.

Go to a club called 'belo'. Order three rum and cokes but the bartender never asks for any money. I figure one of my surgeons put their credit card on the bar for a tab which I'll settle at the end of the night. An hour later, I notice a giant ice sculpture that's carved with the word "OSSUR" and realize that I'm at a private industry party. As staff I'm not permitted to attend industry parties due to the whole conflict of interest and privacy crap that we sign. Lovely. Thankfully, it's all US reps who don't know me and Ossur doesn't sponsor my organization.

I find out that two of the UWO residents rented a condo by the beach. Make plans to meet there the next day. I'm bored and head back to the Days Inn. My cab arrives at the exact time as another taxi filled with five drunk men. They cat call and start walking towards me. I walk faster and fumble with my phone trying to think of someone to call until I'm in my room. Thankfully the elevator comes before they do they don't see which room I go in to. Go to bed with heart pounding.

DAY 4 - FRIDAY
Meeting from 9-11:30. Toss the business clothes and head to the beach. 23 degrees and I'm smiling the whole way there. Meet up with the UWO boys. Another day where I get to spend time with at least 7 men that talk science all day long.

Beach condo is better than I expected but has been inhabited by males for the past four days. Beds unmade, dishes unwashed, smells like beer and wet towels. I don't sit on the toilet seat when I pee. Text everyone that I know to tell them that I'm on the beach. Eat street tacos for lunch. The first meal that hasn't made me ill all week. One of the surgeons stops buy with a girl named Joanne who is an industry rep here on the conference. I am thrilled to finally spend some time with another female. I gush over her "I like your hair and your shoes and your necklace" and explain that I haven't been with another person who has breasts all week. She understands and feels it too. We become best friends for 2 hours. I watch the sunset on the perfect San Diego day and return to my hotel to pack and prep for my departure the next day.

DAY 5 - SATURDAY
Arrive at a very busy airport. Line ups and chaos I've never seen in any Canadian airport. It takes me an hour to get from the curb into the doors. I'm dressed to set off back to Montreal in February so I'm cooked by the time I walk in to the airport. I tell the attendant I'm on the 12:15 to Toronto. He tells me no dice. Flight is delayed due to mechanical difficulties and won't take off until 4:00pm. They haven't even started the maintenance yet so departure is not guaranteed. I spend an hour on the phone with Air Canada. Even if it takes off at 4:00pm I'll miss the last flight to Montreal from Toronto and will have to sleep there. The thoughts of spending an entire day and night in airports does not appeal to me. I book myself on the 8:30am flight the following day. I break to the news to Rich - another day away from home. I explain how it's not my fault. He's not impressed but understands. The guilt settles in again and turns my stomach into lead.

I make various frantic phone calls. Convention is still on, long weekend in the US and no hotel rooms anywhere. More phone calls to the UWO guys this time. Every one's in session today because they all spent the day before playing hookie on the beach. One of my UWO grads comes to my rescue and presents me with a key to the suite he's sharing downtown. I now feel tremendously guilty for calling them snobs for the past five years.

He tells me that their third roommate is leaving that day. I can stay on the pullout couch in the living room area. The room is nice and cool and I'm knackered from the drama of the morning. I nap, shower and get ready to walk around downtown.

I hear a key in the door and pray that it's one of my two roomies and not the third guy who is leaving today. But it's him. And we've never seen each other before. I already know what he's thinking. I try to explain who I am but he just tells me he doesn't care - as long as I know his friends, that's fine with him. But I want him to know that all is platonic. "I missed my flight and I'm staying on the couch." It's all awkward and fumbling. The more I talk the worse it sounds. I flee the room as he collects his things and walk around the Gaslamp district.

My feet are wounded soldiers and are begging for a rest. I find the Mexican restaurant I was supposed to eat at on Thursday and order a tostada salad with chicken and a fish tank sized Daiquiri.

Later that night I sit down for dinner with 10 men and am treated to the best meal of my entire trip. Cold lobster tail, shrimp, oysters and mussels as an appetizer. Followed by a trio of tartar (salmon, caviar and tuna). I choose seared sea bass on a bed of asparagus risotto as my main course. There is shared chocolate cake and a lemon layered dessert going around the table but I opt for more wine instead. I'm full - this is the most food I've ingested in 5 days combined.

We head to a bar where I'm treated to endless rum and cokes. They just keep appearing. I get two hours of sleep and try not to peer too long at my cute roomies in their underwear while I thank them for their gentleman's hospitality and head home.

DAY 6 - SUNDAY
Meet my boss in a taxi at 6:30am. I'm optimistic. Flights are scheduled on time and I force down 1/2 an egg mcmuffin and coffee. I have the shakes and realize I'm still drunk. Security checks. I'm taken aside when the agent examines my boarding pass and tells me I've been selected by the airline for additional security checks. They empty my two carry on bags and swab every item down for testing. I'm brought behind a curtained cubicle and asked to strip down to my undies. I have 40 minutes to catch my flight. I hold back tears as best I can and don't want to make things worse by asking too many questions. It all goes quickly and is only mildly violating. I'm quickly reminded how horrible it is to fly hungover. I make my flight and all its connections and finally, finally at 7:30pm I'm home. Greeted by two smiling faces, an empty fridge, five loads of laundry, a sink full of dishes and every toy Simon owns strewn about the house. But I'm home with my boys. My boss calls at 9:30pm. The last he saw of me, I was being taken away for the strip search. He tells me to take Monday off. I love my job once again.