I’m going to a writer’s conference. Have not been to one is so long, well, except the one I worked on for DWW. Just as I like being a student more than a teacher, I like attending conferences more than planning them. So I am greatly looking forward to this. In fact, I’m packing a mini-bar because the hotel doesn’t have one.
Here’s a nice basic mini-bar menu: ice, martini shaker, martini glasses, toothpicks and blue cheese olives, vodka, teeny bottle of vermouth, wine, water, and espresso pocket coffee. When I pack a mini-bar, it’s not for drinking and driving. It is for arrival at destination when you just want to relax.
Al and I took a road trip last year and I got so sick we unexpectedly had to stop for the night in Kentucky. I could not eat or drink; I couldn’t even read. So Al went out for food and a beer, and came back to the news that we were in a dry county. When I pack a mini-bar for Al and myself, I always throw in a couple of those cute Crown Royal shots. He was cheered.
Today, my friend is driving, which takes the pressure off me. The weather is not cooperating at all, and it feels like the kind of day I’d rather stay home. We’re not leaving until late afternoon, so I’m hoping the sun peeks out at some point. The conference is a couple hours away, and right now there’s a powdering dusting of new snow plus a kind of hazy fog. The drive, for her, might be a white-knuckle adventure. She will surely appreciate a martini when we arrive safely at our destination.