Face Facts With Dignity
Thursday, May. 19, 2005, 6:17 p.m.

QUESTION: Chocolates, for me?

WHAT I LEARNED: Argyle is distinctive.

Golfwidow decreed that my fortune cookie fortune must be the title of my entry and so I have happily complied. Face facts with dignity � was the fortune. What happened to the good fortunes? I think the other people at the table at the Royal Palace Restaurant in New Haven got them: the argyle-wearing spritopias, the beautiful jyram, the bubbly summer-gale, the knows-exactly-who-she-is cosmicrayola, the librarian par excellance purple-chai, the regal l-empress, the saucy Bard�s Bitch (was tattooed nanny on Diaryland), the exceptionally clever Golf Widow, and that man of hers (Gold Widow�s man that is) who got drafted into being picture-taker for all during the grand lunch event.

Yes, I got to take a trip to Connecticut and meet up with some great Diaryland diarists this past weekend. I especially thank Spritopias who made sure that I stopped whining about how busy I was at work and instead got me focused on finding a flight into Hartford late enough on Friday night and out of Hartford early enough on Sunday afternoon so that I would not feel guilty for taking some time for myself in the midst of overwhelming stress at work. I was so glad that Jyram and Spritopias were able to meet me at the airport on Friday night � I recognized them immediately by the argyle vest that Spritopias was wearing. Also, they had signage just in case there was too big a crowd at 10:45 PM at the Hartford airport.

And they brought chocolate. Godiva chocolate. That�s what I got handed by the great and wonderful Spritopias and his driving accomplice Jyram. We also had to stop for food at Friendly�s before heading to the hotel because the chocolate seemed to make us feel like a late-night snack. Friendly�s wasn�t really that friendly because when they saw us walk through the door the first thing they said was � �the grill is closed�. Like that mattered when they still had ice-cream creations available. We lost no time in ordering one small Reese�s Peanut Butter Cup Friendz � kind of like a Blizzard at Dairy Queen, one malted vanilla milkshake, and a 3-scoop Reeses Pieces Sundae. Can you guess who ordered what? I see no reason to tell. Let us just say that we were all happy with our respective ice-cream choices.

Armed with ice cream and burdened down with luggage (too much of it mine) we arrived at the hotel. I knew we had picked an interesting place to stay when I spied the bikers standing at the front desk. While they were checking in (a process that seemed to require a small eternity to accomplish), a group of slightly bedraggled air flight attendants side-stepped the line and signed a book that triggered the desk clerk to slip them some keys. They grabbed them and dragging their impossibly tiny luggage on wheels towards the elevator and a few hours on the ground in New Haven while we still stood in the same place hoping not to draw any undue attention to ourselves from the biker people and thanking God in heaven for our ice-cream concoctions.

We all got our non-smoking rooms - eventually. I was assigned the one last used by a person with a malfunctioning nicotine patch. The room reeked of smoke. They had to move me. Then we went upstairs to meet with Cosmic, Purple Chai, and Summer-Gale. Summer-Gale answered the door � she�s like a blast of sunshine. I had met her and Cosmic at JournalCon last year and so it felt like seeing old friends. I hadn�t met Purple Chai before but she was exactly how I imagined her to be - just a kind and thoughtful person. Cosmic was the ultimate hostess. While we chatted, the rum and coke was liberally poured out into little styrofoam cups that were probably supposed to hold cups of morning coffee. Life was good and vaguely reminiscent of college days. We probably could have talked all night, but showing better sense then in younger days, we all headed off to rest up for a fun-filled Saturday instead.

I'm not done with this story yet. Stay tuned...

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