How to conference like a Katie

Ten Easy Steps!

1. Get a room to yourself.
   
1. It might seem lonely and expensive, but think of the quiet.
   
2. Getting up or sleeping in, of napping without wondering if someone is going to wake you mid-dream.
   
3. Consider spreading out face wash and moisturizer and eye cream, contacts and 3 make-up brushes and tubs of powders to make your face pretty.
   
4. All the complimentary toiletries are just for you!
   
5. I used every single hanger and felt not a moment's guilt.
   
6. Oh, and yes, I do require all four pillows. I could actually use a couple more.
7. Does my room need to be 65 degrees? It doesn't matter - I'm the only one who needs to snuggle under blankets to sleep.
   
2. Attend the talks that should be good.
1. When you think of how to spend an hour or two, weigh the advantages of 3 invited speakers who have carefully rehearsed their remarks and focus sharply on their topics against 15-20 peer-reviewed abstracts from a generally younger crowd who are visibly nervous and somewhat unclear.
   
2. Check the program for sessions that sound fascinating. It's a bad sign if reading the titles alone makes you want to nap.
3. Take breaks. Pacing is very important.
   
3. Find that food court you think you might have seen once several years ago.
   
1. Wander with wide-eyed delight while noting that they have Chinese and Thai and Greek and Italian and all sorts of soups and sandwiches.
   
2. Decide on a burrito and mull over future lunch schedules.
   
4. Get a massage.
   
1. Are you not stiff and sore from the plane? Of course you are. Poor thing.
   
2. Decide to do the aromatherapy massage.
1. Reject smelling like a bar of chocolate.
2. Or a cookie.
3. Or a orange or pink grapefruit.
4. Dither between lavender and some other herb you can't recall.
   
5. Pick the herb you can't recall.
   
3. Sigh as the muscles are lulled into relaxation with smooth strokes of strong fingers. Neck and back and legs and feet. Ankles and knees and hands and shoulders.
   
4. Fill out the comment card while sipping lemon water in the complimentary robe.
   
5. Shuffle in borrowed slippers to dress again.
6. Assure your therapist that you'll get right on it when she recommends a hot bath.
7. Tip well.
   
5. Take hot bath - it's massage therapist recommended.
   
1. Coo over depth of the tub in your room.
   
2. Pour some shower gel under the stream of water and sit on the floor, resting your arms on the edge of the tub and watching the water level rise and the bubbles catch the light.
3. Ease into hot water, realize you covet the depth of this tub and relax.
4. Wonder vaguely if the water can reach your skin since you're coated liberally with oil that smells like some herb you can't remember.
   
5. Pick up thick, square bar of soap and begin to lather.
   
6. Upon realizing you remain slippery with oil, continue to scrub with a bit more attention.
   
7. Frown when it's not doing much good and settle into the water again.
   
8. Plan attack against residual oil.
   
9. Pounce on soap and lather and scrub, trying to take the oil by surprise.
   
10. Sigh with failure and resign yourself to being slippery forever and ever.
    
11. Wonder if you'll receive some oil-based nickname. Or have to change the title of your blog to reflect this new facet of your being.
12. Dry off and put on pajamas again.
    
6. Pick up the schedule, try to decide between two moderately interesting sessions.
   
1. Read abstracts and yawn.
   
2. Decide to lie down while you think.
   
3. Read more abstracts and blink sleepily.
4. Decide to rest your eyes while you think some more.
5. Wake after sessions are over having enjoyed a nice nap.
   
7. Think yourself weak, but buy internet anyway.
1. Check email in all accounts, refresh bloglines and google reader.
2. Feel giddy that you can read about what you've missed!
3. Find out all is well with Friend - experiments going well, no mention of feeling terribly ill and news that she at least slept a bit with Chienne under the covers next to her, Sprout on patrol and Prettiest Cat in my master bathroom.
1. Smile when told that Prettiest Cat is lonely and decided to nudge her mouth under the door to make sure the outside inhabitants knew of her displeasure.
2. Giggle when told that Chienne was distracted by a pouch of Mighty Dog while Prettiest Cat moved in.
   
3. Feel badly when Sprout claws Friend's leg while playing tag with Chienne.
   
8. Order room service.
   
1. A delightful sandwich with chicken and mushrooms and cheese.
   
2. And chocolate cake. With a chocolate straw. And caramel sauce. And berries.
   
3. Stare at chocolate cake, trying to decide if it or that movie guy last night is prettier.
   
4. Decide the question is too hard.
   
9. Shower.
1. Finally succeed in shampooing and lathering and scrubbing the oil from your body.
2. Feel ridiculously proud.
   
3. Snuggle into fresh pajamas and drink a bit more water before bed.
   
10. Write a blog post you can publish immediately.
    

It's probably best if you do not --

1. Skip the morning coffee you alway have and feel terribly sluggish all day.
2. Decide since it's warm several hours to the south, you only need a couple of sweaters for a week in lovely-but-slightly-chilly conference city.
3. Stare at job boards and realize there's not anything that says, "Katie! Pick me!" Begin to Freak Out and wonder what the hell you're going to do in a few months. Today was good. July - as my fellowship time runs out - might not be. Tomorrow I'll try to figure out what to do about that while I'm here. Luxury does come at a price.