I'm in Orlando, attending a big conference on distance education. This is my first time attending this particular conference, and it's supposed to be the biggest one on the subject. But the problem is, I'm not the typical distance educator. I don't have a Master's degree, let alone a PhD. I don't enjoy discussing the philosphy of education, and I don't give a shit about the history of education at all.

In other words, I'm kind of their worst nightmare.

While I was in a particularly boring session where every sentence the speaker uttered ended in a mumble, I wrote up these Conference Attendance Rules:

1. Don't turn your phone off.  You look more important when your mom calls in the middle of a session.

2. The best way to network? Mill in the hallways, especially if you have the opportunity to block the restroom door, the line for coffee, and/or a major exit.

3. Never start on time.

4. Never end on time.

5. Every PowerPoint slide must include a reference to obscure educational theory; bonus points for the most uses of any form of the word "pedagogy."

6. Sign up for hands-on technical workshops, but don't bring your laptop. Complain, loudly, that it wasn't explained to anyone.

7. And finally, there are extremely important dress codes:
 - Male faculty: balding, grey-bearded, slightly rumpled oxford shirt and tweed jacket. Bonus points for ugly shoes.
- Female faculty: the smaller your school, the more floral you must wear. If you are presenting, you can wear a just-so-slightly mismatched suit jacket and skirt, but comfortable shoes in some earth tone are a must. And a rule about color: the darker your clothes, the lighter your shoes.  
- Female instructional designers: Wear suit pants or khakis with an untucked, nipped-at- the-waist blouse. No jackets, no sweaters. May have unusually colored streaks in hair and/or multiple earrings.
- Male instructional designers: Poorly fitting Dockers or jeans and a shirt with a logo, topped with a fleece or jacket with a logo.
- Consultants: A traditional suit. No major variance allowed.
- Exhibitors: Polo shirt with company's name embroidered on it. Should smell of Rogaine and desperation.

I'm wasting time waiting for the night's event, which is a Casino Night. I have no idea who's going. I haven't really met anyone here; at the last conference, I befriended a really cool woman about my age and we hung out. This time, I haven't really met anyone. It's very odd to spend almost no time alone and then to be alone for several days. It's kind of freeing, but it's also weird to be in a place like Orlando without my family. I haven't been here in over 20 years, so the Disney Explosion hadn't yet taken place. It was all about the Mouse then, but now it's just insane.

Down the street from the hotel is the Nick Hotel, which is a special Holiday Inn done in a Nickelodeon theme. I called over there, thinking they might have a store where I could pick up some rare Blues Clues thing for Benjamin, but they don't allow visitors on the property -- you can only go there if you're a registered guest. Which makes sense -- they're protecting the kids on the property. But in checking out their web site, I started fantasizing about taking a real family vacation. It would be just like the commercials -- everyone would get along and have fun, we wouldn't be panicking about how much every little thing would cost (because I'm sure the add-ons are insane), and nobody would get injured, sick, or sunburned.

Of course, I'm being kind of silly since we haven't yet had one of those mythic family vacations, so we can't have had a vacation that went AAAALLLL WRONG! And I'm not sure we're ready yet -- Benjamin is still such a babe in the woods and so unmanageable in public. And it's not like we're planning anything. But I can see into the future I'd like to have... maybe down the road, I'll be speaking at a conference, and DH and the boys can come with me. After I speak (on the first day, natch), we go explore some family-friendly area or adventure together.

The only other woman I kind of bonded with here was with the company who makes the presentation software we use. She has two girls -- ages 9 and 18 months, and the baby had a liver transplant when she was only four months old. She said how she wishes so much that her husband and girls were here... he works from home, so technically they could have done it. But the first year after the liver transplant is the most dangerous, so traveling is just inviting germs to attack her daughter. I guess there are more things to worry about in the world than whether your kids will get along when you travel, eh?

DH is home alone with the boys, and he sounds like he's a little inundated. Granted, it's an ugly job, that temporary single parenthood. The last time I went away, I was 10 minutes from home when I talked to him and he sounded like he was three seconds from complete meltdown. I could picture the three kids dancing in warpaint around his trussed, bruised body. Again, I'm exaggerating -- in many ways, I think the boys behave much better for their Daddy. Jacob even asks me to go away because he likes when it's just Daddy at home (uh, thanks, sweetie pie). That doesn't make it easier. I can't say I'd look forward to DH running off to conferences, myself. But I get so stressed in response to him sounding stressed. I think it compounds my guilt -- just getting away for a couple of days is so refreshing. I don't have to worry about anybody else for three whole days!

I'm not so sure the conference has been that useful, but while I've been gone, I've written the framework for my own case study, a full book review, and the school newsletter. Oh, and the SLEEP! I didn't sleep that well the first night (the hotel I was in was nearly deserted, and I didn't have hot water); but when I moved to the conference site, I got a much better room. Not fancy, but with a really comfortable bed. And oh, so very quiet. I don't remember waking up ONCE. I can't even remember remembering how long it's been since I've gone a whole night without waking up.

On the other hand, I can't sneak into the boys' room and ruffle their hair while they sleep. So I guess nothing's all that bad, and nothing's perfect, either.