Wednesday, January 14, 2009

In an airport

So titled because that is, in fact, where I'm writing this. A tiny little airport and the most vigilant security force I have ever met. The enemies of freedom will do little to advance their cause flying through here. The TSA agents were ready to take my carry-on bag to an undisclosed location and blow it up when an observant supervisor suggested that what they were so concerned about on x-ray may in fact just be the HANDLE OF THE BAG. That crisis narrowly averted, we moved on to other potential weapons of mass destruction, namely my shoes.

Now, I'm monopolizing the only outlet in the whole airport and playing music without using my ear buds. If you don't want to listen to Melissa Ferrick, you and your crappy taste can sit over there. (If you say it with a smile, it's almost like being courteous.)

Okay, back to where I left off...


I interviewed at a phenomenal program in New York. Phenomenal. (Wait, I said that already, didn't I?) Dead sexy. My interviewer said, "You know, I never say this, but if you want to come here, I'm sure we have a spot for you." I think I've heard something like that before. I was standing next to a used Chevy and the guy said, "I never do this, but for you, I'm going to give up my commission."

Sure you are, dude.

I'm cynical with good reason. Programs are known for lying to applicants to ensure that when it comes time to match their rank list with our own, they get everyone they wanted (and have several talented back-ups just in case). While I appreciate his apparent enthusiasm about me, I'm keeping it in perspective, matting it in a frame carved with the words, This may be total bullshit.

Friday night, after much debate about whether or not it was worth it to trek out in the cold weather again, I finally decided to head to Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas tree. It looked shorter in person. The star on top was almost too big. Like a friendly, stout old man wearing an over-sized hat. In fact, it looked like the guy sitting across from me...except that he isn't actually strung up with lights.

Three minutes after I got there, they turned the lights off and began taking down the tree. I actually felt like my timing was perfect. Frankly, it was too cold to stand around and stare at the lights, and I got to see the tree say goodbye. (Damn, that sounds lame. Screw it. I'm leaving it.)

Time to board my flight. More later.


.j.william. said...

"matting it in a frame carved with the words, This may be total bullshit"

brilliant. I'll take a dozen of those frames. Not that I find myself particularly gullible; rather, just overly optimistic.

Eric said...

Wow, sounds like TSA in New Orleans. I got picked for "additional screening" and as I'm getting patted down I almost wanted to stop the guy doing it and teach him how. It was ridiculous I could have had a car bomb under my clothes and he never would have found it.
I know I feel safer.

☆Susan☆ said...

I HATE TSA. It's ALWAYS worse at small airports, because they have time to harass every single passenger, not like JFK where they have 18 million people to get through. Where are you going now?

Shan said...

Well, I'm all caught up T. And I for one am pulling for the NYC "dead sexy" gig because they have that guaranteed position and all...But, either way, put it first on your list! I WILL be living vicariously through your experience and dang it that's what matters here. You did some good catch up reporting there, btw. :)

Anonymous said...

WHat a whirlwind. When will you know?

Terroni said...

I just re-read this post.

Hello, grammar?
Where the hell were you eleven hours ago?

MmeBenaut said...

Terroni dear, there are a couple of quotes in here that I could use right now to apply to my own life. Perhaps "this may be total bullshit" is one of them.

Maria said...

I always feel sorry for Christmas trees when they are taken down. They always look like little naked old men. And they are treated so shabbily! When they are brought in, we puff up their egos by running around shouting things like, "BE CAREFUL! Don't break any of those branches! Look at what a big guy this is! Isn't he gorgeous?!"

And then we drap lights and doodads all over them and pretty them up.

On Christmas, we practically worship that tree.

And then two days later, someone walks through the living room (or parlor, in my case) and says in a disgusted voice, "WHEN is that that thing coming down anyway?"

Finally, everything is yanked off that tree and it is hauled rudely either to the curb to be laid out, all trussed up, or slammed into the back of the truck to be taken to the dump or put into a box and practically thrown into a dark basement.

They must be pretty fucked up by that time, don't you think? Now, imagine that tree in Rockefeller buddy.

deboo said...

Wow, your life is so full of travel and adventure! Cherish these times, even as they seem like a trial.

When's the next interview? When will you know who likes you - likes you!?!