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...

Friday

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.