Climbing the Tower

Two friends, loyal SJBlog readers, and founding members of Team Taboo have recently crossed my path on their quests for jobs at institutions of higher learning. Happily, they've both secured at least one job, with perhaps more to follow.

This time last year and, for that matter, the year before that, I was making similar marches around the country, thinking about how many coffee shops I would require to live in a small Iowa town, trying to feign enthusiasm driving by Joe Paterno's house, scandalizing seemingly liberal faculty at SF State with Almodóvar movies, marveling at the quaint mounds of snow and sheets of ice in Vermont, and asking myself why Amherst smells like beef bullion.

Despite not really knowing how I landed where I did (and recently being told that my hire was an "agonizing decision"), on a campus that still smells like beef bullion, I'm finding myself doling out advice on negotiating contracts, managing campus visits, playing your cards close to your chest, distracting yourself while waiting for the phone to ring, and surviving in a town with two streets like I'm some kind of expert. I never thought I would be nostalgic for the job search, but having landed happily on the other side of it, I admit that it's kinda fun to watch my friends go through it, remembering the days when I didn't know whether I'd need to invest in a lot of fleece or start paying attention to college football or -- horrors! -- both.

Buena suerte, PJ and Ms. Mattsie! For what it's worth, I own more fleece than I did a year ago, though I'm still cold most of the time. But I still don't care about college football. And I need a minimum of two coffee shops, both of which must have a decent selection of tea and maybe a panini on the menu, for me to feel human.