andamu

After a very inauspicious beginning, the day did not turn out too badly.
[ the society ]
Despite the fact that we started half-an-hour late, we got a tremendous amount of work done. Most of the key officers were present, and the entire E-Board were there; all of us seem committed and full of ideas.
On a personal note, most of my suggestions were well received, and seemed to spark fresh perspectives. As expected, raising diversity issues were rather more cautiously received, although a lot of constructive suggestions were made, including undergoing diversity training as a Board so that none of us inadvertently blunder and worsen matters in sincere attempts at outreach and inclusion.
The budget was surprisingly well received, with an appreciation for the reasons changes were made, and only one piece of "lively discussion" ensued toward the end, which we managed to resolve in an adult fashion.
Drawing up the budget and fielding requests for funds will remain tough; where I can see merit I would be inclined to grant reasonable requests for funds, had it not been for my predecessor's eloquent and impassioned exhortations to see the money as something entrusted to the future of the society, raised by extremely hard work by our predecessors for that purpose, and impressing on me that we have a duty to ensure that we have funds to continue operations ahead.
It was heartening to see the sincerity with which everyone tackled the issue of fund raising - without a concerted effort our Scholarship Fund would be in severe trouble, unable to fund a full set in three years.
::
[ grind ]
But back to the start - or almost non-start. Previous trips to that part of town had demonstrated that I could make the twenty-odd mile journey in around half-an-hour; so allowing roughly forty minutes for the journey seemed fair enough. Until of course I hit the summer roadworks.
Crossing the second river, the Interstate was cut down to a crawling single lane, to join another choking single lane spurring off I-84, and forced to an utter standstill by a final reduction to (you guessed it) a single lane where there would normally be four - everyone of which would be well-used. This continued until the exit three miles before mine, when finally the road opened up, too late to do anything about the time.
Sitting on the bridge, with no idea what was going on ahead, but seeing the lanes move by inches per minute, I started getting more and more distressed as my carefully timed scheduled was choked off by traffic jams. Until I finally made peace with the fact that there was nothing that I could do, I was going to be solidly late no matter what I try, and that at this stage there were no alternatives.
::
[ meandering ]
I guess part of the reason I get so tense about punctuality goes back to primary school days. Pappa used to drop me at school, but as school started at 7.40 a.m. and he did not have to be at work (fewer than five minutes drive from there), before 8 a.m. he had no incentive to make it on time for me; in his eyes getting there within the general vicinity of 7.40 was good enough.
Unfortunately the same was not true for the little jobsworths at school. Give 30 7th graders each a title (school prefect) and some authority to ensure the compliance of the student body with the rules, and you will have created at least a handful of tyrannical monsters. It seemed to me that the majority of my school days started with my frantic running, school case bouncing in my hand, the skirt of my uniform jumper flapping around my pumping legs, praying desperately that the shrill bell would still be trilling when I joined my class ranks at Assembly on the Quad.
If it had stopped, I would be pulled out of the ranks, given a stern talking-to for being late (generally in a humiliating fashion) or even, if I was late enough, be made to wait anxiously with other tardy students to see the teacher in charge of these kind of disciplinary matters.
And what could I say when asked why I was late? "My father dropped me off a little late." Which would get the reply that I should ask/tell him to be sure to drop me off sooner. Which at home would result basic incomprehension and head-shaking at the pettiness of little school officials - which was quite correct, but was hardly the kind of response I could carry back to school! And how could I make them understand that I would be ready well in advance, would try to complete little chores my father usually performed to help him get done earlier, would get into the car and wait - and wait and wait - or stand hopping on one leg, school case banging against my leg, begging and whining at my dad to get going.
It is not that he was cruel or uncaring; it was just something he had never experienced, and could not conceive of the anxiety and desperation brought on by a situation outside of my control met by continuous negative reinforcement.
::
[ restaurant ]
We went to India House for dinner, even made reservations! I was starving after the meeting, despite the sandwich lunch. (Nice try at being "gourmet deli" but ended up just being weird and unusual.)
We were surprised by the fact that while they were busy, they were not as absolutely jam-packed with several parties waiting as they had been that Monday evening that SR and RK had just arrived in the States, and TK was about to leave. So the table with the little "Reserved" sign was one of maybe four empty tables, where last time we had to wait more than half an hour to get seated.
The service tonight had also been much improved and the food arrived quite timeously. And it was still excellent, although a little short on salt tonight (easily enough rectifiable). The thalis were very mild, and would be the only real criticism that I would have of the meal. All in all this place serves the nicest North Indian meals I have encountered here; none of the overpowering cloves-cinnamon-bay leaf combination that so dominates the standard Indian-for-Western-palates here in America.
::
[ family ]
Tomorrow we'll lunch with mpo's son & co. I am so looking forward to seeing my granddaughter again. She'll be 2.5 months tomorrow, and I'm still getting a kick out of people's reactions when I mention her. The double-take and drastic reassessment of my age is classic, before I explain that she is actually "step," and that her father is closer to my age!
And of course, she is gorgeous, and has the most wonderful parents in the world (and the universe's sexiest Thathayya (grampa))