The final day of the ACES conference was busy. I went to three class sessions and then had to catch a flight. After the plane backed up, and then started rolling forward, it just completely stalled. I mean, all the power went off and the engine died. It was complete silence. I've never been on a plane and had dead silence like that. I don't mean the people, I mean the sound of the plane. The plane is always running when you get on.
Well, a few minutes later, it all started up again. And the pilots don't mention it. They just take off. All I can think is, what if that happens in the air in five minutes? Shouldn't they explain what it was so that we know that isn't an issue? I tried to reassure myself that the pilots are on this plane, too, and they probably aren't much more in the mood for dive bombing into the earth than I am, so surely they must be sure it's OK.
Nevertheless, I had what may be considered an anxiety attack. I'm not one for drama. I don't like to call attention to myself. I don't scream and carry on when I am afraid. I just sit there and slowly have a heart attack or stroke or aneurysm. I believe I had all three. My heart palpitated for hours after that, but at the beginning, my blood was just pumping so hard that I knew I'd get a migraine if I didn't calm down. My stomach felt kind of sick.
It didn't help that the man across the aisle, one row up, apparently was terrified of flying. Usually, when something scares me on a flight (say, turbulence) I look around at other faces and feel better that they look perfectly normal. Well, every time I got scared, this guy would look petrified. So then I would feel worse. The guy, by the way, was the tannest man I've ever seen. He makes Bob Barker look like Nicole Kidman. I couldn't stop staring at him, which was freaking me out for multiple reasons.
I already had only 45 minutes to get off the plane and get to another terminal to catch my connecting flight. Then we were 10 minutes late. I figured I'd never make it, but this is cool:
Knowing some people couldn't make their next flights, they took aside all the ABQ and Portland passengers just as we stepped off the plane and were in the tunnel thing. Then they opened a secret door there and we went down some stairs to the Tarmac (AP used to require this to be capped and I can't let go). There was a bus waiting and they drove us straight over the tarmac (trying to let go -- that wasn't so bad!) and we climbed the stairs and got right on our plane!
I figured there was no way they could get our luggage over to our next plane that quickly, but they did. I have to give kudos to American Airlines, aside from the stalling planes.
Showing posts with label ACES. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ACES. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I am not making this up
Day 3 in Miami was OK. I was too wiped out to really feel like trying to go anywhere on the lunch break or anything, but the one thing that kept me going was the chance to see the keynote speaker at the evening banquet. That speaker was Dave Barry, syndicated humor columnist from the Miami Herald. He no longer writes a regular column, so I have been Barry deprived -- get it!! Maybe I should take his place.
I went downstairs at 6:45 and everyone was crammed outside of the ballroom for cocktail hour. I couldn't spot anyone I knew and it felt very uncomfortable, so I fled back to the safety of my room for about 45 minutes. I figured if cocktail hour started at 6:30, the ballroom would open at 7:30. When I came back at 7:30, all the tables were full and everyone was eating their salads. I had to sit at the very back of the room. This is what my view was like:
Luckily, I could hear him, even if I couldn't see him. And he was hilarious. Worth the whole trip, I tell you.
I went downstairs at 6:45 and everyone was crammed outside of the ballroom for cocktail hour. I couldn't spot anyone I knew and it felt very uncomfortable, so I fled back to the safety of my room for about 45 minutes. I figured if cocktail hour started at 6:30, the ballroom would open at 7:30. When I came back at 7:30, all the tables were full and everyone was eating their salads. I had to sit at the very back of the room. This is what my view was like:
Luckily, I could hear him, even if I couldn't see him. And he was hilarious. Worth the whole trip, I tell you.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
When you live at 5,000 feet and then you go to sea level, you can drink A LOT and not get drunk!
Read my title. It's not a good thing, actually. It means you spend too much money on drinks.
Anyway, when I came back with money and a drink, our table had filled. There were lots of interesting people. As I talked about my job, I began to feel a bit embarrassed. It seems that other copy editors read 8-12 stories a night and do a really thorough job, but we read 30-50. They asked how we could possibly be doing a good job. I replied that maybe we weren't, but what choice did we have if they didn't let us hire someone? They also made fun of the fact that we still use Xyrite, an ancient DOS-based program that uses "coding." Coding means that instead of clicking on a headline box with your mouse and typing, you have to type all these weird keystroke combinations to tell the computer what font and size and width. It's rather time-consuming, so add that to the fact that we read way too many stories, and you see the difficulties. I am not complaining about my job, I was just surprised at how different it is other places.
Anyway, three of the women at the table invited me to Miami Beach that night. I thought that meant, you know, a beach. I was ready for sand and surf. What it meant was an area with lots of revelers. It was really fun, though, and I bought a really cute dress. My dress comes just past my knees, which was about 3 feet longer than most of the dresses people were wearing in Miami Beach.
We had a drink and some snacks and went back to the hotel to prepare for the next day.
Anyway, when I came back with money and a drink, our table had filled. There were lots of interesting people. As I talked about my job, I began to feel a bit embarrassed. It seems that other copy editors read 8-12 stories a night and do a really thorough job, but we read 30-50. They asked how we could possibly be doing a good job. I replied that maybe we weren't, but what choice did we have if they didn't let us hire someone? They also made fun of the fact that we still use Xyrite, an ancient DOS-based program that uses "coding." Coding means that instead of clicking on a headline box with your mouse and typing, you have to type all these weird keystroke combinations to tell the computer what font and size and width. It's rather time-consuming, so add that to the fact that we read way too many stories, and you see the difficulties. I am not complaining about my job, I was just surprised at how different it is other places.
Anyway, three of the women at the table invited me to Miami Beach that night. I thought that meant, you know, a beach. I was ready for sand and surf. What it meant was an area with lots of revelers. It was really fun, though, and I bought a really cute dress. My dress comes just past my knees, which was about 3 feet longer than most of the dresses people were wearing in Miami Beach.
We had a drink and some snacks and went back to the hotel to prepare for the next day.
There's only one place on earth where a seminar on diagramming sentences would be standing room only
Day 2, Miami
- Marched downstairs and demanded a new room. Was told there aren't any.
Me: "Nobody's checking out today?"
Her: "Well, other people are coming in."
((Thinking: Uh, I'm already here. Give me a good room and give them my room.))
Her: "Come back around noon and see if there's anything."
Me: "Are you going to put me on a list?"
Her: "No."
Me: "I can't go through another 2 nights of not sleeping."
Her: "Hold on."
((holding on))
Her: "Here you go, room 1126."
((How hard was that?!?))
Then I registered for the conference. This day was probably the hardest because I was so sleepy. Also, I took a class about polls. Sorry, but that's boring. I know it was useful, but it was boring. I took a few great classes, and I was actually most excited about the diagramming sentences class because I just couldn't remember how to do it. The class was packed with enthusiastic grammar freaks. I felt a little inferior when people were talking about predicate transitive nominative gerund modifiers. I mean, seriously, their names for things would go on for that long. And I had no idea what they were talking about. I guess I need to do some grammar studying. It's not too much to expect a copy editor to know these things.
That evening was the cocktail event. I walked in and felt uncomfortable because I didn't know anybody. The last time I went to one of these, I think they didn't have tables, so you had to stand alone or awkwardly force your way into someone's circle. I was relieved to see they had large tables, and it's much easier to join in that way. I saw that most tables were half full. But at one there was a guy all alone. I felt very sorry for him, because as a shy person, I know that easily could have been me. So I joined him and we chatted for a few minutes before I went to go get some money for a drink.
This leads to my next post.
- Marched downstairs and demanded a new room. Was told there aren't any.
Me: "Nobody's checking out today?"
Her: "Well, other people are coming in."
((Thinking: Uh, I'm already here. Give me a good room and give them my room.))
Her: "Come back around noon and see if there's anything."
Me: "Are you going to put me on a list?"
Her: "No."
Me: "I can't go through another 2 nights of not sleeping."
Her: "Hold on."
((holding on))
Her: "Here you go, room 1126."
((How hard was that?!?))
Then I registered for the conference. This day was probably the hardest because I was so sleepy. Also, I took a class about polls. Sorry, but that's boring. I know it was useful, but it was boring. I took a few great classes, and I was actually most excited about the diagramming sentences class because I just couldn't remember how to do it. The class was packed with enthusiastic grammar freaks. I felt a little inferior when people were talking about predicate transitive nominative gerund modifiers. I mean, seriously, their names for things would go on for that long. And I had no idea what they were talking about. I guess I need to do some grammar studying. It's not too much to expect a copy editor to know these things.
That evening was the cocktail event. I walked in and felt uncomfortable because I didn't know anybody. The last time I went to one of these, I think they didn't have tables, so you had to stand alone or awkwardly force your way into someone's circle. I was relieved to see they had large tables, and it's much easier to join in that way. I saw that most tables were half full. But at one there was a guy all alone. I felt very sorry for him, because as a shy person, I know that easily could have been me. So I joined him and we chatted for a few minutes before I went to go get some money for a drink.
This leads to my next post.
Went to Miami, didn't see no stinkin' sun
I had the privilege of being sent to Miami for the ACES (American Copy Editors Society) conference. This is primarily a group of newspaper copy editors, but also copy editors for private companies and government.
In the interest of not scaring you away with an endlessly long post, I will break it up into several.
This is Day 1:
- Got up way too early. Traveled all day. I left my house at 9 am and got to my hotel almost 12 hours later, although there is a time zone difference.
- Needed to pee, but there was someone else's pee on my toilet seat. I called and asked for someone to clean it and left for dinner. Nobody ever came and I had to call again late at night. I didn't care to sit on someone else's urine -- call me picky.
- Dinner was bad. I had no car, so I had few options. I went to an Italian place at the hotel next door. It seemed pretty authentic, since nobody there spoke English very well. I misunderstood the menu and thought I had ordered a nice filet of tuna with a salad. What I got was a salad with paper think slices of raw-looking cold tuna underneath. The serving was enough for a mouse, but I wasn't that hungry anyway. I hate cold fish or shrimp.
- Went to bed but didn't get to sleep because I was put right next to the elevators and was woken up about 20 times in the night.
In the interest of not scaring you away with an endlessly long post, I will break it up into several.
This is Day 1:
- Got up way too early. Traveled all day. I left my house at 9 am and got to my hotel almost 12 hours later, although there is a time zone difference.
- Needed to pee, but there was someone else's pee on my toilet seat. I called and asked for someone to clean it and left for dinner. Nobody ever came and I had to call again late at night. I didn't care to sit on someone else's urine -- call me picky.
- Dinner was bad. I had no car, so I had few options. I went to an Italian place at the hotel next door. It seemed pretty authentic, since nobody there spoke English very well. I misunderstood the menu and thought I had ordered a nice filet of tuna with a salad. What I got was a salad with paper think slices of raw-looking cold tuna underneath. The serving was enough for a mouse, but I wasn't that hungry anyway. I hate cold fish or shrimp.
- Went to bed but didn't get to sleep because I was put right next to the elevators and was woken up about 20 times in the night.
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