Leg one of this two legged rollicking, frolicking adventure is complete. Check. The flight to LAX was a pleasant one, as I sat next to a woman from Texas who was the sort you want to talk to. She didn't ask too many questions and she didn't give too many answers. I even got to talk with her about what makes a good job candidate. She does a lot of interviews for different positions in the company she works for and she said that problem solving skills are key, as is the ability to recount situations in which you've been successful or unsuccessful efforts that you were able to learn from and use to improve later performance. Maybe I'll start making a list of situations because I manage to forget all of them during interviews.
I feel like I'm at the Gate of Top Secret Destinations. The thing is so remote! I took two buses and one long, serpentine hallway to get here. I sure hope I'm at the right place! I have a couple more hours to wait.
As Lance, my summer boss would tell the students every week, the best way to fail at something is to not tell anyone you're going to try. If there's no accountability, there's no pressure! I love to succeed, so I thought I'd declare some of my lofty goals to you,dear reader.
Goal #1. Read A Tale of Two Cities in its entirety. I've never done a complete dickens, and I fell like that's an ingredient to being a well-rounded, well-read human. I started it a couple weeks ago and made it through the first chapter. I was slow going, as I haven't read anything that old in a while and it takes me a chapter or two to get back in the rhythm of reading words that aren't in common use anymore... like blunderbuss, sinister, and turnkey. Zanna gave this book her personal endorsement, so that coupled with a 14 hour flight lend themselves to some motivation. I'll keep you updated. Right now, a man in a stagecoach has received a message and sent one back. I know, gripping. With Dickens, though, you can taste the mud flying up in the messenger's face and feel the wet of the British fog.
Goal #2. Become a "dog person". I know, I know, it's like saying I don't like hot chocolate (which I don't - except Spence's homemade stuff), or apple pie or baseball. I was raised with dogs and have a friendly toleration for them. There is, however, a distinct difference between someone who will pet dogs when socially appropriate and someone who often finds themselves rolling on the floor playing with a dog, making time in the schedule to play catch with a dog, and knows the price of dog bones at the grocery store.
I will have an opportunity to practice becoming a dog person because the family who we are house-sitting for when we first arrive in Australia has a dog. now, I am allowing room for the discovery that one can't "become" a dog person. I should re-articulate the goal like this: figure out if i have the ability to become a dog person, and if I do, become one. I come from a long line of "dog people" and I do like the idea of a dog. Maybe that will help. Some long-developing, pre-birth kinship with man's best friend will suddenly come to fruition and I'll be puppy shopping when I get back to the States. (Dane or Dalmatian or something else big and lanky, I'm not into purse dogs.)
Side note, guys with puppies - super cute, just like guys playing with kids. Sub-sidenote, guys with puppies who are using aforementioned puppies to get attention from girls - low, despicable (though smart), tools. Yes, this happened to me this week. Vitamin store guy, if you are reading this, you were a lot cuter with the puppy than when you rang up my vitamins, until I realized that any guy who would bring his puppy to work is probably irresponsible and immature.
I just keep grinning like a goof thinking that I'm about to step on a huge mechanical bird, and when I get off, I will be in Australia, of all places.
Much love,
Little Miss Sunshine
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