when I'm out walking, I strut my stuff, yeah I'm so strung out

The interview went about 1000x better than I expected.

I walked in about 15 minutes early and was met by the nicest guy ever. We shook hands and he led me to the brief editing test. He gave me some time alone and really, I think I did fine. There was a typing test, too, and he commented that my 90wpm beat his 70.

So that made me feel nice and relaxed. Then we chatted about my job history and he asked the fair question of whether my career move was conscious or out of necessity. I felt I confidently (and honestly) explained my career changes over the past few years. I did not, happily, throw myself at his feet and beg him to believe me that in spite of what my resume looks like, I don't want to continue my technical career.

God he was nice. So I relaxed and felt much more confident about my answers.

The only thing I question is the stupid application I had to fill out. There was a damn "Why do you want to work here and why should we hire you" essay. Bleh 100 words on the spot. In my serial-killer penmanship, no less. I would have felt much better typing it out and having half an hour to fine tune it, but I scrawled out the best that I could.

I know it's a competitive position. Has fantastic benefits and great room to grow. Please can I just have this? Please? I've worked fucking hard this past year and been very good.

In some ways a good interview is scarier and much more emotionally crushing--because now if I don't get it, I don't know why. At least with Monday's interview I can imagine that there are people with demonstrated design backgrounds out there. I'm over qualified for this job. And I realize that might hurt me. Argh.

so don't delay, act now, supplies are running out

Decided to make some Pakistani food, tonight. I haven't cooked in ages.

Mushroom curry and some keema mutter (ground meat and peas--I'm varying from my mother's recipe by using very little oil, olive instead of vegetable, and ground turkey instead of ground beef). I can't find my written copies of the recipes, so going by memory. It's not that hard. Everything starts with onions, garlic, ginger and generally the same five spices (ground cumin, ground coriander, turmeric, red chili powder, whole cumin). Meat. And then tomatoes. And whatever else.

I got an email from my first quarter prof, Emma. She's agreed to meet me for coffee/resume review tomorrow or Thursday, which I think is incredibly nice. She's a lot of fun, so even if this weren't a meeting with a mission, I'd be excited.

I can't believe how warm my apartment gets. All the windows are open and the fan is on so it's finally cooled off a bit. Bleh.

Hobbes doesn't understand why there's so much activity in the kitchen this late at night. And particularly why none of it involves him getting more wet food.

pa rum pum pum pum

It doesn't matter how many times I watch it. In Excelsis Deo always renders me to a puddle of sniffles.

Between Mrs. Laninghan's story about her dead twins, and Toby and the Dead Vet, and the gay high school student stoned to death by 13 year old boys... Josh and Sam desperately, wrongly, scrambling to save Leo via Sam's friend. Danny making a list of reasons CJ should go out with him. CJ making a list of why she can't. Dammit, she should have gone out with him. Awww, CJ offering to cook Leo dinner. Gah.

And all the sadness tempered perfectly with just the right touches of humor.

Josh: Where are you going?
Bartlett: To a place called Rare Books. Know what they sell?
Josh: Fishing tackle?
Bartlett: Funny boy.

[some Mandy blather]

Bartlett: Wanna come?
Josh: An hour with you in a rare bookstore? Couldn't you just drop me off the top of the Washington Monument instead.
Bartlett: It's Christmas, Josh! No reason we can't do both!

And of course the sentimental ending where they all line up to Drummer Boy. *sob* With Toby and Mrs. Laningham at the funeral of the dead vet *sniffle* I can't help it. *waauuugh!*

God, I love Toby. Love him. He's so cranky and sad, but amazing.

Ok. Time to check me into the Home for the Emotionally Unstable.