Jet Lagged

Well, it finally happened. I officially lost my sense of humor and my patience with all of my interview traveling adventures.

I'm toast.

Last week I went on two job interviews: one in North Carolina and one in Maryland, near my beloved DC.

En route to North Carolina, I was OF COURSE delayed in Atlanta and called my parents to joke about it. It was still funny then.

My interview there was . . . weird . . . and from the moment I stepped off the plane, felt like a waste of time. Seriously. It just didn't seem like they were honestly interested in me for the position. Oh, I know that if you're a final candidate (1 of 4) then they MUST be somewhat interested. I mean, they didn't ask the other 96 applicants, right? But it just appeared to me that the candidate they really wanted was coming after me and I was only there "just in case." I don't think I really had the attention of the search committee chair until I taught my class. Ugh.

Of course, at dinner the first night I committed a MAJOR faux pas, which I'm sure didn't help me. I think I was brain dead. Honestly. I had spent the bulk of the dinner being ignored by two faculty members and finally dessert was served. I hadn't ordered any, but the soon-to-be-interim-chair didn't like the sorbet he was sharing and suggested I taste it. Well, my silverware had been cleared so I . . . hold onto your hats, folks . . . reach for his dirty spoon like he's my good friend. Wait, it gets better. The two faculty members look at me like I'm from Emily Post's worst nightmare (and to be fair, in this moment I was) and I say in response . . . drum roll please . . . "you don't have cooties do you?" I SWEAR. OMG. My brain FINALLY kicked in before I licked the stupid thing and dove into the sorbet. As the server passed, I asked for a new spoon. But the damage had been done. I clearly had cooties.

The trip home was pretty good . . . there was a short delay in North Carolina, but whatever - I'm used to it, right? I called my folks and joked some more.

I managed pretty well again on Thursday when the universe conspired to send me the break down of American Airlines AND a major storm in the Midwest at the same time. Ugh. I spent 7 hours in the tiny airport near my home. Yes, 7 hours. I begged the Fight Guy to play hooky and join me at the bar, but he resisted. So I graded some papers and laughed with PhD and my folks about my karma. Of course, I had to reschedule a bunch of interview stuff 'cause I didn't get into my hotel in Maryland until 12:30 AM Friday.

The interview there went well - certainly better than the one earlier in the week! The program is completely different so seeing myself there requires thinking about my teaching in an entirely new way, but that's okay. I would still get back HOME and there is a lot to like about that. I managed to see a few friends while in DC: stayed with the Actor-Who-Always-Works-Out-of-Town and her husband, the Scientist. We got to Granville Moore on H Street for mussels, frites, and a super-yummy beet salad. Oh yeah, and of course some wine! We spent the rest of the evening hanging out as AWAWOOT prepped packed for yet another gig in Pittsburgh. But I missed many others due to the stupid airline delay and that bummed me out.

Sunday morning, AWAWOOT drove me to BWI so I wouldn't have to take the bus (how GREAT of her). I checked in, grabbed a coffee and bagel, and hung out. A few minutes before the scheduled boarding time, the agent asked for volunteers to give up their seats for a free round-trip ticket. YIPPEE! For MONTHS the airlines have been asking for volunteers only on my flights TO my interviews. I could never volunteer until now! Well, I jumped up and headed for the podium . . . and then stood in a line that I swear hardly moved. I took nearly 20 minutes to get to the agent and I told her I would volunteer. She looked at my final destination and said the only other flight I could get home wouldn't be until 9:30pm and wondered if that would be okay. I asked if I could have a food voucher and BAM! the conversation was over. She said she didn't need me to volunteer, thanks anyway. Excuse me? Because I asked to be fed at the airport? I didn't even get a chance to tell her I didn't NEED the voucher, that I would be happy with just the ticket! SIGH. And so my day had begun.

We finally boarded the plane and were off for O'Hare. The flight was packed but at least I was by the window. I napped a little and just before we started to land I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me. I asked her if she was coming or going and she said, with no self-pity or bitterness, she was off for her second round of chemo to deal with her final stage cancer. Well, that certainly puts my problems into perspective, doesn't it? We chatted pleasantly until we landed and as we de-planed I wished her luck.

I then found my way to my new gate and was determined to be grateful for my day.

That lasted until we boarded (late, of course).

As we were walking to our plane (a very small commuter jet), I see ahead of me a very obese woman struggling to climb the stairs to the plane. And in that moment I knew I was seated beside her.

Sure enough, I had the window seat next to her (did I mention it was a very small commuter jet?). As every flight I'd been on thus far had been oversold, I sat down. When she sat down beside me, she took up at least half of MY seat too. Now, forgive me, I am not judging her for her health issues, but COME ON! Wasn't there a time when airlines were making obese people pay for two seats because they USE two seats? I was MISERABLE. I am not a claustrophobic, but I was rapidly becoming one.

As the plane filled up, I noticed nobody was sitting in the row in front of me (an exit row at that!) so I asked the flight attendant if I could move. She said yes (praise God!) and I leaped up and practically over the seats. When I sat down, there was a suitcase stashed below the seats in front of me taking up nearly ALL the legroom. HUH? But nobody else was sitting there! So I asked the attendant and a young man in the row AHEAD of me said it was his. The flight attendant suddenly vanished in thin air as I asked him if he could store it overhead. He said it didn't fit. Okay then, store it in front of YOU. Again, it didn't fit! EXCUSE ME????? He then offers to switch places with me. HELL NO. I moved his damn bag and told him in the future he should get it tagged and placed in baggage 'cause that's how you carry on your oversize bags on a commuter flight.

Yes, it was clear I starting to lose it.

So we wait and wait and wait and FINALLY we leave the gate for take off. The captain announces we are third in line - yippee! We start moving and I think, "thank heavens," until we don't pick up speed or take off at all. I look out the window and, voila!, we are back at the damn gate.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. This is NOT happening to me. This is NOT possible.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we have returned to the gate for some BAGS that did not get placed on board."

Now, I nearly shouted a stream of obscenities when it dawned on me one of those bags could be MINE. So I just keep SIGHING audibly until we, nearly 45 minutes later, were taxiing to the runway again.

We finally take off when the large woman behind me shifts positions and suddenly her knee is in my back. Just get me home . . . just get me home before I KILL somebody with my bare hands.

Fortunately, it's a short flight and we were on the ground before my back was bruised.

Now, my local airport is TINY. So, you wouldn't think getting your baggage would take long, would you? Ho ho ho . . . how wrong you are. I had to wait freakin' 45 minutes for my damn bag! And guess who I ran into at baggage claim? Mr. I Need to Carry On this Bag to Make Your Life Miserable was WAITING for another bag! What? You couldn't check TWO? It's still free idiot!

When I finally got my bag, I booked it out of that damn airport, into the STILL freakin' freezing cold, got into my car, and drove off. I just needed to get home.

And walking into my door to my fabulous critters was just what the doctor ordered. I took care of them, fixed my dinner, and was beginning to find my patience and humor again in a glass of wine when there was a knock on my door.

I opened the door to three strangers who identified themselves as my back neighbors. Okay. They then asked me, none too nicely, if I had a yellow cat. Yes. Well, apparently they feed the squirrels and bunnies and my cat has been killing them. Um, yes, okay, I believe that, he's a CAT. Well, what was I going to do about that? I told them I was leaving in about a month - for GOOD. It clearly wasn't good enough and they harped on me claiming all sorts of ridiculous things (like the man of the family has cat allergies and gardens outside - if you keep a garden, why are you feeding the bunnies? AND my cat isn't the ONLY loose cat in the neighborhood so take your stupid Zyrtec and call it even) and now I need to CONTAIN naughty Henry in my house for the next 7 weeks. I can tell you this right now, it's not going to happen. But their visit was the final straw.

As soon as the door closed on them, I burst out crying. I HATE THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE.

SIGH.

Yes, I am jet lagged. I never found my sense of humor or patience last night and it spilled over into my day today. But the Fight Guy and I are meeting for Martini Monday downtown and I'm hoping I find them in a drink there.

If not, I can console myself with the following:

I'm DRIVING to my next interview. :)

Guilty Pleasures

This morning I had pop-tart after some cereal. And as I took each consecutive bite, I began to feel guilty about my morning indulgence. Extra sugar, extra calories.

So I got to thinking about life's guilty pleasures. We all have them. And some of us are able to resist them more readily than others. As I have stated before in this blog, I have absolutely no will-power so resistance is futile in my case.

I enjoy lifestudent's blog a lot and apparently some of her guilty pleasures are Easter candy, cake, and pastries.

I guess I have to ask why the guilt? I mean, supposedly you only go around once, so why do we feel badly when we ENJOY life's abundances? That's nuts!

So let's celebrate our guilty pleasures. Here are some of my top indulgences and, no doubt, I will add to the list in future posts:

Cheese (pretty much any kind, and in any form)

Bread (with the cheese is especially yummy)

Wine (mostly red, but I enjoy white and sparkling as well)

Margaritas (duh)

Queso (see cheese, above)

Eating out

Sex with a certain kind of man (ah, who am I kidding? - I never feel guilty about THAT)

Avoiding work

I think we've come to the crux of the conversation. I've been avoiding work, in the form of grading, a lot this past month. Last night PhD was a busy bee grading overdue midterms and even her excellent example couldn't motivate me to get going on a pile of papers that really must be done this week.

I say I don't care, after all I'm outta here in just two months, but obviously the guilt attached to NOT doing the work proves the opposite.

So what's a girl to do?

Hmmm . . . pop tart anyone?

Zen and the Art of Animal Maintenance

The first of April is just around the corner and rather than wait until Tuesday when I have to teach and a bunch of other stuff, I figured today I would take care of the monthly animal protection ritual.

Flea and tick season is nearly upon us and all sorts of other parasites pose a threat to my indoor/outdoor pets. So once a month, I need to wrangle them down to treat them with SpotOn and Frontline.

The ritual is imperative but the critters aren't exactly cooperative.

This morning was made even more interesting because Zoe and I finally got back to Tipton Park where I let her off leash and she promptly rolled in something stinky. Ah yes, the joys of spring time!

Fortunately, I have a second bathroom with a tub in the basement (which also serves as my laundry room). So once I got all the towels lining the floor, the shampoo opened on the edge of the tub, the Frontline next to scissors, and ear cleaner and cotton balls prepared, I sought out Zoe who was napping on her bed.

I am convinced Zoe can read my mind. I arrived at her bed and tried to get her up off it and with her ears down and tail tucked, she suddenly became a dead weight. Have you ever tried to move 75 pounds of chocolate lab that doesn't want to be moved? Not easy.

I finally convinced her to move by gently tucking my slippered foot under her butt and she stood up looking for a place to hide. As she's getting older and slowing down a little, I managed to catch her collar before she crawled under the kitchen table or behind the bedroom chair (two places that are hard for a human to pull her out from). So stayed pliable long enough to get her downstairs and into the bathroom - I shut the door promptly to prevent escape - but she instantly became a dead weight again when I tried to put her in the tub. SIGH. Taking a deep breath, I got my arms underneath her front legs and managed to get half of her in the tub. After repeating the process, Zoe was finally in the tub and the bathing commenced.

Labs are supposed to like the water and under almost every other circumstance, I can't keep her OUT of the water. But no, a bath is punishment apparently and she endures it only slightly better than going to see the vet.

Once scrubbed down and rinsed, I have to block her escape long enough to get a towel. I get the towel and she leaps out of the tub dodging the towel as best she can. I manage to tackle her long enough to get some of the water soaked up but she escapes and shakes water over the ENTIRE bathroom: all over the toilet, the washer, the dryer, the sink. Oh well, I can get that later. I pounce on her again with a fresh towel and get more of her dried off. After the third towel, she's at least no longer dripping wet or trying shake herself dry.

Time to clean her ears.

If you thought Zoe hated baths, it's nothing compared to her loathing of getting her ears cleaned. But she suffers chronic yeast infections and the best way to stay on top of the yeast buildup is to clean her ears regularly. Fortunately, her "new" diet of grain-free food is helping reduce the number and severity of her infections. But it doesn't make the cleaning process any more fun. She tries to hide in the bathroom which is actually comical because there's nowhere for her to go . . . and I corner her next to the sink with the cleaner and cotton balls. Six yucky cotton balls and several minutes later and her ears are pink and pretty inside.

Now it's time for the Frontline application. This easy by comparison! I head to the door where she stands tail wagging vigorously, thinking she's going to be set free. Ha! This is one moment I actually feel smarter than my dog. As she's standing there, I find the spot between her shoulder blades and squeeze the tube. DONE!

THEN I set her free. She races up the stairs and I meet her at the treat jar where I give her the cookie she has earned for enduring yet another monthly ritual.

Uh - oh. Now it's time for the CATS.

Fortunately, Henry heard the treat jar and jumps up on the counter to get his. Fortunately the upstairs bathroom is set up for the kitties with the SpotOn and scissors already in place. I snag Henry off the counter and lock us up in the bathroom. I place him on my lap as I try to cut the plastic applicator, and Henry slips off my lap by digging his claws into my legs (nice kitty) and stands by the door crying and pawing. Since he's upright, I manage to clip the applicator and squeeze it on him in a deft, sweeping motion I'm surprised I have in me. Before I know it, I'm finished with Henry!

Now for Beatrice the Bitch. I'm sorry to call her that, but since Henry joined our little family of girls, Beatrice has been a growling, hissing, spitting bitch of a cat most of the time. Poor thing.

I find her hiding in the study under my desk chair. I move the chair off of her and go to pick her up, but the growl and hiss that follows is an indication she's about to let my blood so I back off. She flies out of the room and under my bed, growling all the while.

She's still there.

Because if I've learned one thing, it's how to be Zen when dealing with my animals. I wasn't always and bear the scars as proof. But as I've mentioned before, I can be taught (experiential wisdom) and I am happy to be mindful of the present moment with them. After all, that's where the live all the time.

I have let go of being judgemental and controlling when it comes to taking care of them.

That's Zen and the Art of Animal Maintenance.

8 Miles and the Shortest Phone "Interview" Ever

It's been a productive morning!

I ran 8 miles with TNT and joined them for breakfast (which for me meant a hot chocolate - I'm saving money) at the local Coffee House. It was a good run, but COLD. May I just go on the record saying I am SICK AND TIRED OF THE COLD! It was 25 degrees with a 14 degree wind chill. UGH. Will Spring ever arrive?

Anyway, I left the group around 9:30, got home and cooked an omelet and toast, and took care of a couple of e-mails. I spoke briefly with my nephews - they called to thank me for their birthday Game Stop gift cards. They finally used them today and were excited to let me know what games they got.

After breakfast I prepped a bit for a phone interview I've been trying to have with a school in North Carolina. I looked over the school and department website, checked out the city website, and reviewed some questions and answers. Feeling somewhat prepared, I made the phone call and once again got voice mail. UGH!

Fortunately, a very short time later, the search chair called me back. He thanked me for my patience and then said he wanted to bring me to campus.

WHAT?

No probing questions? No academic babble? No intellectual banter? No commiserating artists? I get to just visit your campus?

Huh.

Now, I'm not complaining, but I must admit it gives me pause. He certainly had valid reasons for the delay in the position search: a department splitting into two separate departments, a new spring break time, and an illness. Yet it seems strange he didn't bother to ask me ANYTHING except my availability to travel.

I mean, the entire conversation lasted MAYBE five minutes. He gave me the opportunity to ask my own questions, but I was so stunned by the turn of events I couldn't think of one that was so pressing I had to know it before I visited.

So sometime this week I'll be scheduled to visit North Carolina. Okay then! Off I go!

WHEW.

Remember the flood of which I spoke last entry? I take it back! I take it BACK!!! Naw . . . not really. I'd rather be in the game than a spectator.

Still . . . this job search has been a marathon of its own. It makes running Nashville in four weeks seem EASY.

Trickling In

Yesterday I got an email from a school in North Carolina asking to arrange a phone call.

Another possibility trickles in.

I'm so-so about this one but can't really know until I talk with some folks and possibly visit the campus. To be honest, I'm really surprised it has taken them this long to get in touch with me. Their deadline was way back in January! But I suppose I should have some inkling of academic red-tape by now so I won't hold it against them.

Anyway, I wrote back saying Monday morning would be good and THIS morning got a call requesting it be before then - TODAY preferably. Well why the hell didn't you say so in your email? SHEESH!

So I called back and left a message on both numbers and will try again at the end of my day. Not ideal timing, but what the hell?

It's funny how the opportunities keep trickling in. Not only am I still hearing from schools to which I've already applied, but new postings are slowly finding their way to me; mostly because PhD sends along the ones closer to DC. Thank heavens for PhD (who, by the way, is now gainfully employed - woot)!

Last week I sent out an application for a school in Maryland and have, as of this a few minutes ago, been invited on-campus for an interview there! Trickle, trickle. I'm thrilled as that would get me 45 minutes from DC and working half-time so I could pursue other work or possibly continue my Alexander Technique training in DC. And this morning I sent out one for a school in Pennsylvania. I'm pretty excited about this morning's position. It's NTT (which means little to no University service required and that I like - besides, I've been NTT here and I can live with a few more years of that until I decide if I really want to be a full-time teacher), renewable, and close to DC, Philly, and NYC! HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BE??

Of course, in the meantime, other schools will soon be making some decisions that may or may not mean I'm still on the market. SIGH. Should I get an offer, am I prepared to take it? Am I really in a position of luxury to REFUSE it? How do I deal with being a finalist elsewhere IF an offer comes in?

AND, just to mix things up, World Traveler has finally gotten her Peace Corps assignment and leaves DC late this summer. I'm THRILLED for her (and will MISS her)! But it means her job, at my old workplace, is coming available and though I wouldn't want it forever, would mean an easy transition back to my hometown until I find what fits.

More trickling. And though I'm very happy to have so many possibilities out there, I just wish somebody would turn the tap all the way up and I'd have a quick flood with which to deal. Then again, I could drown in that and it might be a lot messier!

The Tax Man

I spent my weekend avoiding grading by doing my taxes. Hey - at least I was doing SOMETHING productive!

Anyway, I'm expecting a decent federal return and enough of a state return to pay to do my taxes through H&R Block online. Yeah . . . when my ex-boyfriend of 10 years finally stopped doing my taxes last year I turned to H&R Block.

My taxes tend to be very complicated. As a "qualified performing artist" I've had to file schedule Cs and long form 1040s and I've almost always had to file in multiple states. I usually have a combination of W-2s and 1099s and sometimes unemployment. So doing my own taxes was generally out of the question. And to make matters worse, I'm a LAZY "qualified performing artist" and don't keep the best of records. My poor ex! I don't know how he managed all those years.

So last year I entered the fray on my own and somehow managed to get them done. So after such a positive experience I returned to H&R Block to file again. Now, if you filed with Block the previous year, the computer asks you if you want to "import" last years file and then make changes as you go along. Well, I figured that would be far more laborious than just starting out fresh so I chose NOT to "import" last year's information. In hindsight I think I can say that was a big mistake.

I'm not even sure why I think that because as you file you don't get to see the entire form you're filling out to even know the direction your taxes are going. It's a little frustrating. So I finished my federal and had such a whopping return I figured there was NO WAY IN HELL it was correct. Besides, I didn't fill out a schedule C and I was certain that needed to be done. So I sort of started all over, only the Block computer won't let you start from the VERY beginning (a very good place to start) and import. Oh no! You are STUCK with doing your taxes fresh if you make that choice the first time.

So I went back and made a few changes here and there and finally found the "qualifying performing artist" bit and forged ahead filling out what I assumed were the forms I had always filled out. All was going well and when I finished, my return was more reasonable and I checked the box to have the computer review my return for mistakes. I get a big red notice that says something like "You don't qualify as a qualifying performing artist" or whatever it said and told me to go back and get rid of it!

What?

Yes, according to the Block computer, I am no longer an artist. Now, I've been wondering about that myself recently, but to have a damn computer tell you hurts.

It's true, I only had two outside gigs last year and the amount I made from them was ultimately quite small. But come on! I've spent my entire adult life filing this way and defining myself as such. How did this happen?

I moved to the Wasteland, that's how. Now, I know my friends will argue that my work at the University is artistic and creative and they are right. But there is something about the "outside" work that legitimizes me as an "artist:" to me, to the government, and to most of the world.

Boy oh boy. I have spent this year being an "educator." Not nearly as sexy, is it? SIGH.

So I went back and erased my "qualified performing artist" entries and filed without them. My return didn't really change much and the IRS has already accepted it so I'm not in any danger of an audit, but I'm still bummed out. I erased from my taxes a big part of who I am! How is that good?

Now I know the quote, "In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes" (thank you Ben Franklin). But I didn't think it would mean the death of my artistic life and I had no idea they would be so intricately linked!

Runnin' Down the Bunny Trail

I returned at 9 AM from a 10 mile run.

Before I went to bed last night, I vowed if there was snow on the ground I would go back to sleep. Of course I secretly wished it would snow. Well, the critters were up at 5:30 AM and when I looked out the window the roads were dry. Bummer. I would have to get up and run.

I turned on the Weather Channel to see if I could excuse the run because of the cold - and it was cold! - but tomorrow promised snow so I figured today would be less painful.

I haven't been running with TNT for many weeks. Between the weather and my schedule, I had no desire to be out on the trails at 7 AM on a Saturday morning. But as the half-marathon is a mere 5 weeks away, I knew I had to get back into a routine and today was the day.

When I arrived, I was surprised to be the first one there. Over the next few minutes many others arrived including Coach P and Coach T. They seemed pleased to see me and after announcements were made and running routes set, Coach T told us the Easter Bunny had been on the trail and left some eggs! How fun! An Easter egg hunt during our run! The eggs had numbers in them which corresponded with some prizes. Pretty cool!

So off we went.

It was a fun run in spite of the brutal wind. The wind was blowing in from the North pretty hard and we were fortunately running East/West. Except the last mile or so . . . due North into a cold, strong headwind. Yeah, that's fun.

But there were prizes to get! What isn't fun about that?

I collected four: mostly candy, but I also got a rubber ball (fun) and a Fred Flinstone toy I gave to Zoe. She was very pleased.

And it once again dawned on me how much better I run with company. Though I took Zoe out on Thursday morning, her heart wasn't into it and our run eventually became a walk. She's not a fan on on-leash running apparently. Still, it was better than NO run which is what Thursday would have been without her.

And today is the sort of the same. Without friends and fun along the route, I never would have gotten in ONE mile, much less ten. And though I was dreading going, by the time it was over I felt good and was so happy to have gone.

And I'm still feeling pretty good. Sure, I need to recover - a little coffee and breakfast will help.

Oh yeah, and a little chocolate from the main rabbit as I ran along the bunny trail.

Yet Another On-Campus Interview Travel Story

Believe it or not, every on-campus interview I've had thus far has a travel story. This is the most recent from my interview in Colorado.

Okay, so . . . I can be taught. After the luggage fiasco to Wyoming and wearing the same suit for three days, I learned to CARRY ON all luggage for Alabama. However, you can't control the weather and who would have thought ATLANTA would look like Detroit on a snowy day? So, going into my interview at Colorado I was paying close attention to the weather and all things travel related. The weather was looking okay - I was just going to miss two snow storms on either side of my travel days. And the travel arrangements were all made.

Or so I thought.

When I interviewed with the schools in Wyoming and Alabama, they had me book my own tickets. However, the school in Colorado uses their own travel agency so they were in charge of booking me. The day I put in my reservation request, they sent me an e-mail that consisted of the reservation. The reservation included a notice that if the reservation needed to be changed I should contact them 24 hours in advance. Everything looked good so I had no need of getting in touch with them.

Well, 24 hours before my flight out, I go to American Airlines online in order to print my boarding pass. Instead of a boarding pass, I got a notice that said the reservation had been canceled. WHAT?

So I call American to actually speak with somebody about my reservation. Sure enough, the human operator said the same thing: the reservation had been canceled. WHY? Apparently the TICKETS WERE NEVER PURCHASED.

EXCUSE ME????

I was scheduled to fly into Denver in 24 hours for a 2 day interview and I had NO TICKETS.

I began to hyper-ventilate a little then. How the hell did this happen? What the hell was I going to do now?

Well, I figured this emergency was worthy a call to the Search Committee Chairperson so I dialed her up and explained my situation. Of course, she has no financial authority, so a phone chain began on their end to figure out what I was supposed to do. The next person I spoke to was the head of the department and he told me to try to find a reasonable flight (yeah, right) for the next day that copied as close as possible the times of my previous booking.

Well, flying out of the Wasteland was going to be a minimum of $800 so that was a no-go. I began to search flights out of Chicago and sure enough, I found a round-trip on Southwest that wasn't too awful. So, with the department head's credit card I booked my flight.

Aside from the miserable drive to and from Chicago and the cost of gas and parking the rest of my travel was uneventful.

But I have to wonder, WHY do these things keep happening to me? Is the universe really trying to tell me something? Because it sure feels like it.

My travels to and from DC weren't particularly eventful. Okay, so I spent 1.5 hours circling National due to high winds, but that's NOTHING compared to my previous trips. Why am I having so much trouble GETTING to on-campus interviews? Seriously, it's seems only about GETTING there. I get home just fine - more or less. It's all relative.

Are the planets aligned funny or something? Did I do something bad in a previous life? Did I do something bad in THIS life (hmmm . . . let's not go there)? Or maybe the universe is picking up the vibe that I'm not certain I want to be a teacher. I just don't know. Are there any nuggets of wisdom out there for me? Do I follow the old addage "If it's not hard, it's not worth doing"? Or "three strikes you're out"?

Or do I follow what my Dad said after the trip to Alabama, "No more interviews!"

DC Doings

Well, it was one hell of a trip. And I had a BLAST.

I really miss DC and more so, my friends in DC. I pretty much spent the week eating and drinking (and drinking, and drinking) with friends. I visited several favorite haunts: Franklins, Tunnicliff's, Old Siam, Banana Cafe, Old Ebbit, Congressional Cemetery (minus Zoe - WEIRD), and of course the Folger (I even got to see their production of Macbeth - it pays to know people). I also got to a couple of new places: Cafe Asia, Sonoma and Proof (yup, two wine bars with amazing food - both on the same night!) And to each of the places my friends willingly and happily accompanied me.

It was WONDERFUL. And I felt great. I felt HOME and MYSELF for the first time in a long time. I was city mouse again instead of country mouse and it just felt "right."

I also managed to get in a couple of runs while there. The weather was so much warmer than the Wasteland and I ran my old route around Capitol Hill and the Capitol Building. Spring is definitely springing in DC! Daffodils and other flowers are already in bloom and the blossoms on the trees are starting to appear. Springtime is the best time in DC (in my humble opinion). Of course, running without Zoe was STRANGE, but still good.

All the time I was there I kept asking, "Why the hell did I ever leave?" Now, I know the reasons and I'm not sorry for the time I've spent away, but it makes me wonder if I shouldn't run screaming back.

I told my mom and dad that I wouldn't make that decision without some time and distance away from my visit and without hearing about my potential teaching gigs. I know I need to wait and see, but the temptation is GREAT and the pull to DC is strong.

Of course, after today's phone interview with one school I'm not convinced I'll get an invitation to interview (that seems to be the current trend in my phone interviews). And one school I JUST applied to on Monday. I would love to end up at that school though. It's only about 45 minutes away from DC and half-time so I could return to the center of my universe and still pursue some artistic endeavors. Time will tell.

It's very strange living in this "suspended state" of unknowing. I move in about two months and have no idea where the moving truck will be going. I'm okay with it, but there are moments when I just want it to be decided.

In the meantime, I'm searching my heart for what might be best for me . . . the spectre of DC looming large with my recent visit . . . and trying to stay open and positive about all the options. And if what is lies ahead isn't DC, at least I know I can always visit.

I'll just click my heels three times and say, "I want to go home."

0 for 2

Well, today I received official word from school #2 that I did not get hired. I'm not surprised, and to be honest, quite okay with not moving there . . . but it still hurts a little not to be chosen.

Don't get me wrong - I'm THRILLED to be a final candidate and know there are all sorts of reasons I might not get picked, but it would help to know specifically WHAT those reasons might be. Perhaps I could improve my interviewing skills and actually LAND a job.

And of course the timing sucks. I mean, I'm off to job interview #3 in less than a week and already a bit freaked out by it. It's a job I desperately want, but know I shouldn't want it because if I strike out there I'll be REALLY depressed. It's always better if you don't really care, isn't it?

So . . . I'm a little bummed and more than a little worried.

In the meantime, I've sent my stuff off to a school that didn't hire me but there's a new opening in the department and they asked me to apply. It's only a one-year gig . . . which has its pros and cons. Mostly cons 'cause it's not a place I'm dying to go to and I'm getting tired of moving. I know! ME! I'm kind of wanting to put down some roots someplace. The pro would probably be that I wouldn't have to go down to interview and considering my batting average that could be to my advantage.

I'm also waiting on two schools who checked my references (I even had a phone interview with one - of course that didn't go well AT ALL) to see if I've progressed to the next level or not. Man this is EXHAUSTING. And of course I keep looking online for jobs but things have slowed WAY down. I imagine they'll pick up again as people get hired at these places and leave their old jobs. Is this what it's like to be a free agent?

Job hunting this way is insane. I honestly don't completely understand the process.

In the meantime, I deal with the daily grind here. Some days are better than others and just a few moments ago a student of mine from last year popped his head in to say hello. He's a dear and asked if I was definitely leaving. I told him yes and he said he was very sad about it and that he and every student he's talked to will miss me. Well, I don't know about THAT, but it was a nice pick-me-up.

I suppose when I go off to my next interview, I need to hold onto that pick-me-up and know that wherever I land I can make a difference. Even if it's in just ONE life, you know? It's hard . . . I admit I have a big ego and there are those days I long to be a rock star - or maybe for this posting All-Star. It's not an easy dream to abandon . . . so I am often at war with myself about where to go and what to do. Yeah, deep down I still want to lead the glamorous life!

SIGH.

For now though I'd be thrilled to land job #3 in a town that's less glam and more earthy-crunchy. Hell, I'm a vegetarian. I can do organic. And my dog would LOVE it.

So here's to hitting one out of the park on Monday. Everybody say your prayers or Hail Marys or whatever it takes to hit this home run.

Batter up!