Average Georgia: This is a post-Mean Girls world
I’m in La Union! Farthest I’ve ever been from home. Also my longest bus ride ever.
So this is technically my second travel writing assignment, but unlike the first one, I actually have time to write in the middle of it because I am holed up in my room. I am avoiding people.
The dynamic on this trip is different, because this resort is quite posh, and there a few more “high profile” people on the guest list. I was surprised when I found out I got this gig, because usually the more senior people get it. Maybe someone higher up the food chain ate bad tahong, and inadvertently changed my fate? I should find out and send a fruit basket.
The good: MY OWN ROOM. Because my designated roommate, the mysterious Miss M, didn’t show up. Or hasn’t shown up. At least, they seem to think she’s still going to, which is why they didn’t bunk me with someone else, but it’s midnight and she’s not here yet. So now I’m enjoying my welcome drink, evening cookies, and rose-petal-adorned bubble bath all to myself.
The bad: I seem to have wandered into a clique war. We’re all writers or covering travel in some way, but earlier tonight I saw that there were two distinct groups, and they seemed to hate each other. Group A’s leader (I say that because she’s never alone, everyone seems to want to be around her) is a face I actually recognize. I think she’s a minor celeb.
Group B is a smaller group of very articulate people who seem intent on NOT hanging out with Group A, because of minor celeb. I know one of them from my last assignment, so I kind of started the day hanging out with them, but wow. They really hate her. They keep talking about her.
I learned from my internship mentor that these clique wars at work won’t help anyone, and that’s why I’m spending the evening in the bubble bath.
The interesting: Another sign that I’ve leveled up? There’s another minor celeb here. (I will call him Andy from this point on, because I think he Googles his name.) He’s a sports/travel show host on the same network at my sister’s show. He saw my name, and asked if I was related to her. That, by the way, is the opening line of half of all intros I’m part of. “Are you related to Kat?”
When one day someone asks her if SHE’S related to me, I will buy everyone pancit. I swear.
On the agenda for tomorrow is surfing (yeah right, please pray for me). Ken (travel photographer from last time) said he will take video of my inevitable wipeout.
Tags: Average Georgia