Crushing on the Captain

Three-TRINKETS TRINKETS TRINKETS!

        Walking into the convention center, I was trying to wear as much confidence as possible. I was dressed smart, wearing my favorite blazer and my pair of beige heels. I'd eaten a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and a banana, along with a cup of coffee. I'd showered and done my hair, resetting my body from travel mode to work mode.

        The hall was packed by the time I got in. On my wrist was a rubber pink bracelet, saying that I'd paid to get in. Except I hadn't paid; it was another part of the award. Pulling my map out of my pocket, I realized that I could spend weeks in here and never visit some tables.

        Making my way around the room, I stopped at various booths to see what they were selling. Some weren't education related at all, selling face creams, homemade jewelry, and pretty much anything else you could think of. However, most of the booths were selling either textbooks or school supplies.

        My first purchase was one I could never regret: a pack of pencil toppers that included sharks, flamingoes, and toucans. My kids would love them, especially the four boys who had recently formed a discussion group about the different kinds of sharks. The pack of toppers went into my bag, the weight already making me smile. 

       Next, I found something more practical. Math textbooks that had already passed review through the school board. They ate up a lot of my budget, but it was the only big purchase I had planned on. Everything else would be less expensive, like school supplies and decorations. 

       Shopping became more risky when I couldn't find a price tag on something. "Excuse me? How much for this planner?" I asked the woman behind the table.

        "Well, it's a bundle where you can choose what things you want," she said, pulling out a couple of packets. "The planner alone is thirty. But there are stickers, like with tasks or you can get flowers, those are five dollars a packet."

        I was a sucker for a good pack of stickers. "I'll take the planner and both packets, please," I said, already imagining the to-do lists and lesson plans I would stuff in there.

        Another decent hole in my wallet. Adding the planner to my bag, I checked the time. The first seminar I was going to, about struggling readers, was about to start in five minutes. Making my way across the hall, I found the exit to the ballrooms. Unfortunately, I was sidetracked.

       "No, Eve," I scolded gently. "You have an entire water bottle covered in stickers. And you don't need more keychains."

        Probably my greatest weakness when traveling was my tendency to spend a ridiculous amount of money on souvenirs. My house and car was full of stickers, keychains, hats, posters, postcards, bottle openers, national parks jewelry, and other various knickknacks. My wardrobe was full of sweatshirts and t-shirts from various locations across the country. Even Logan, who had travelled internationally a handful of times, was always sure to bring me back something small. My favorite trinkets were the snow globes, even though they were the most useless and took up the most space. Not to mention they were dangerous to pack.

         Now I stood in front of a table that advertised snow globes, journals, and everything else, all branded with little images of the Seattle skyline. Others simply said "Seattle" in fancy script, and there were even things that had little images of Mount Rainier. 

        It didn't seem right, to go on my first solo trip and not bring home some sort of trinket. Perhaps not a snow globe (which wouldn't pack well), but maybe a shirt? Flipping through the stacks, I found one that I loved: a soft turquoise with the skyline and "SEATTLE" printed on the front. Forking over the outrageous twenty-five dollars, I bought one in a size too big so that I could wear it on days I wanted to relax. 

        "Okay, now I'm really late," I said, hustling down the concourse. It felt rude to be late, although by the looks of it, I wasn't the only one. The door shut behind me as I slid into a seat in the back row. 

        Taking my notepad out of my purse, I scrawled down the notes that were on the slideshow. Thankfully, it seemed as if I hadn't missed much. My handwriting was absolutely awful and I probably wouldn't be able to read it later, but I didn't have the time to slow down. I had two handwritings: one for my students and one for me. In school, I was flawless, with perfectly straight letters and a firm hand. Any other time or place, it looked like chicken scratch.

          I spent the rest of the morning dashing from room to room, absorbing as much information as possible. Bonus: I also collected quite a few free goodie bags. One even had a t-shirt in it that was luckily my size. 

          For lunch, I made my way to the main hall and sat by the window. Outside, the storm had somehow gotten even worse. I couldn't see across the street, the one that was two lanes wide. Throughout the day, I'd already overheard several snippets of various conversations that all revolved around one factor: when would the snow stop, and who would be able to get home?

          After lunch, I went to one more talk, this one about teaching handwriting (ironic, I know), before going back to the main hall where all the different booths were. I bought some spinning fidget toys as a gift for my students before it caught my eye.

          "Not until tomorrow," I whispered. And yes, I successfully walked by the fiction books booth. I was so proud of myself.

          Later that night, in my hotel room surrounded by bags and books and a distressed notebook, I felt like I'd accomplished something. Maybe it wasn't much, but so far, this trip had been everything I'd expected. And I hadn't had any major slip-ups!

          Crawling into bed, I checked my list. I had two more seminars tomorrow afternoon, then I still wanted to buy smocks for my class. But that was all. Leaving just enough money for a book. Maybe two, if I didn't buy a snack from the vending machines.

          "This is perfect," I whispered to myself. "Best trip ever."

          A/n: Yes, shorter chapter, I'm sorry! The next one should be slightly (or a lot) longer.