June 16, 2006 - 11:19 p.m.
White Wine
It's funny how a bottle of wine that tastes a little odd at first tastes fine by the second-to-last glass when you're the only one drinking.
It's Friday night, and I'm alone in a hotel room in Morrow, Georgia. Why am I alone in Morrow, drinking a bottle of white wine? Because I've come up here to an two-week seminar at the state archives, and it's the end of the first week. Unlike normal hotel rooms, I've got a small kitchen. That lets me keep the white wine well-chilled. I also have two bouquets of red roses and 6 congratulatory balloons. I found out after I left home on Sunday that I've been accepted to graduate school. Rob sent me a bouquet of roses with balloons and candy to congratulate me, but the floral company screwed up and sent two. Lucky me! It's like a little bit of Rob is here with me. I wish he realized that sending less expensive flowers is just as meaningful as roses (hint, hint for the next time he catches up on my diary!) Roses are significant in our relationship, but they're not always necessary, darling! Lilies are lovely, too!
The seminar has been a really good experience. I'm meeting other people in my field, and I'm learning more about archives. I'm wary of driving around Atlanta, though. I'm so over large cities. I guess growing up in Dallas and spending 6 years in LA makes me highly intolerant of traffic. The ridiculous speeds don't bother me much - I can go 75 in a 55 with the best of them - but having it take 1 hour to go 9 miles for no good reason makes me want to kill someone. The irony of that latter situation? I was on my way to a massage, which was supposed to be relaxing! Fortunately, it was relaxing, so I've been pretty happy ever since.
Tomorrow I'm going to drive to Pine Mountain, GA to see the Callaway Gardens. Before my mother died, she came to a Garden Writers Association of America meeting held at Callaway Gardens. My father mentioned it to me when we were on the phone recently, about how much she liked it. I could easily spend my time in the Atlanta area (lots of shopping and eating to do here), but I really feel the need to see something that I know my mother loved. The ties to her are so tenuous these days that I'll take what I can get.
I've taken a circuitous route to graduate school. 10 years after I graduated from high school, I finally graduated from college. While my father was here, he told me how proud my mother would have been. When she was diagnosed with cancer, her one wish was that she'd see me graduate from high school. That didn't happen, but I did eventually graduate from college, and I'll get a master's degree too. That I didn't do it in the timeline that was expected for the over-achieving, intelligent high school student that I once was is merely a testament to my absolute conviction now that I'm on the correct career path. How in the world an 18-year-old is mature enough to decide to spend $30,000 per year on an education is beyond me. I was fortunate that I had that opportunity, but sometimes I think I should have been reined in earlier. Pomona was a learning experience, there's no doubt about it. Was it worth the money that was spent on it? Doubtful, but I will never tally up the amount that was spent for me to be there. I expect it woudl be too depressing.
It's time for my last glass of wine. I think I've been maudlin enough here, plus there's a documentary on porn that's drawing my attention away from Diaryland, and I can't have divided attention, can I?
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