ontinuing the saga
of Ho-Ho-Ho's and presents to pretty girls....
Saturday, December 25
I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much American food (so-called “comfort
food”, which is so called because after you eat it you have to get comfortable
by loosening your belt, unbuttoning your pants, and taking a three-hour
nap) in a two-week period. Huge meal at my aunt’s house. Huge
meal at my mother-in-law’s – twice. Huge meals at Chick-Fil-A and
a great little coffee-shop-style restaurant known as Eat ‘N Park.
Of course, I don’t mind any of it. My upbringing definitely had
a bearing on my personal tastes. You could offer me the most gourmet
meal of caviar or sushi or whatever exotic things you could find, and I’d
rather have a good hamburger. Case in point – when we finally got
home from vacation, we decided to go out for some Mexican food, something
not so readily available in Pittsburgh. But the two restaurants we
tried were so crowded that they had lines going out the door. So
where did we end up, after a vacation full of American food?
Denny’s.
Other than that, Christmas went wonderfully. My wife’s family
was most gracious to say that we didn’t need to visit on Christmas, though
we did end up at her mom’s house Christmas night. So we alleviated
most of the stress we usually have from running around to six different
houses (“from Atlantic to Pacific, gee, the traffic is terrific!”).
We went to my aunt’s house, and spent most of our time hanging out with
my two cousins. I can remember writing in a journal (of the paper
sort, not electronic), when the older of the two girls was just a babbling
baby, how weird it would seem to me when she got older.
She’s fourteen now.
Those visits always make me feel very old.
Christmas, as most Americans know, is primarily about getting presents.
I’m pleased to say, though, that I didn’t really get much this year – my
parents actually stuck to their promise of cutting down. We got cash
from pretty much everyone else we came in contact with, so now we have
all this money with which we are supposed to do “something nice” – but
we have no idea what to buy. We’ll probably end up saving it for
baby stuff, not that we’ll have any lack of presents rolling in when that
time comes.
Tuesday, December 28
Thus starts two of the most surreal days of my life.
At 5:30 or so, I got on a plane to what hopefully would have been my
new place of residence (although I’m going to decline to say exactly where).
That morning, I finally got the hotel and rental car arrangements from
the clueless H.R. rep who handled that stuff, and I was on my way.
I was impressed with the city. I had been checking it out on the
internet, and found some really nice houses for very cheap. I even
found a church we could go to. The drive from the airport to the
hotel was pleasant, and I had a great dinner. I was feeling really
good about things – the karma was right. But somehow I got a huge
headache from all of the travel (and the stress, probably). That
night, I filled out some paperwork for the inteview, took a nice, hot bath,
and went to bed.
And I lay there.
And I lay there.
I usually have problems sleeping when I’m traveling, especially when
I’m alone. But there I was, at 3:30 in the morning, unable to fall
asleep, with quite probably the most important meeting of my life at 8:30.
No wonder I sometimes feel like my life is one big practical joke.
Wednesday, December 29
I finally fell asleep around 4, and got up at 6:30. I ate breakfast
out of a vending machine, a great thing to do when your stomach is already
turned in knots from nervousness. (To tell you how nervous I was,
I’m getting nervous now just writing about it, and it’s been over for two
weeks.)
For my sanity, I won’t go into the interview much, but there were no
real problems. I was nervous, of course, and it showed, but I thought,
at least once I got started, that I handled myself pretty well with the
five (count ‘em, 1-2-3-4-5) people I talked to. It seemed like I
actually fit into their group. I was impressed by their workplace,
and what my job responsibilities would be, and the people I met.
They even took me out to lunch. Still, I was never more relieved
in my life than I was at 2:00, when I left the building and drove back
to the airport. I picked up a few postcards for my wife, the collector,
and even bought a T-shirt of the town’s baseball team, something I did
once before, in 1994, when interviewing in San Diego (and look how that
turned out).
I think I slept for the next three days straight after my experience.
Friday, December 31
We went to my high school friend’s house again for New Years’.
Nothing has changed over there; they are trying for a child, but nothing
yet. Everyone they know is still attached to the fire department,
because there is nothing else to do there. My other high school friend,
the one who was even more adamant than I about never having a drop to drink,
was downing champagne and beer and something I’ve only seen in Pittsburgh,
called Lemon Pucker. Of course, in the latest in a series of tragic
comedies that make up his life, he just broke up with his girlfriend –
who then slapped him with a restraining order. Now this is probably
the most mild-mannered, kindest guy I know. I kind of wish he would
start his own web journal – it would definitely be more interesting than
mine.
To celebrate the new millennium, we watched the ball drop, went outside
and screamed a little, and watched the fireworks from a nearby town (not
minding that it was about 30ºF outside). We then watched “The
Matrix” – a pretty cool movie, but not really my idea of party festivities,
which, actually, was a good thing – until nearly 3:00, when we rang in
the new year, Pacific Time.
