Forty-ninth posting - holiday

Friends and fans, it has been a whirlwind of a few weeks since I last updated you on my life. For those of you I haven't seen or spoken with directly, here's the scoop: I interviewed (phone) at a Berekely-based nutrition and energy bar company at the end of November. It was my first in 6 years, and it didn't go particularly well. BUT it was also probably a blessing in disguise in that 2 days later I interviewed (also phone) with a Portland, OR- based fitness equipment company. This one went well, and I talked to 2 more people the next week (again phone). For those of you who haven't done much interviewing lately, one trick is to stand and smile. Really. I was told it makes people think more positively and actively, and all of that nervous energy has a place to go.

So the same company called me on Thu Dec 8 and asked if I could be flown out there on Sun for a day of interviews on Mon. Heck yeah! The day went well, I liked the people a lot, and the job is developing/managing a brand of indoor cycling products, so it's right up my alley. Plus the company's fitness center would make your jaw drop. Unfortunately, I didn't meet one VP who was out of town, so after I returned I was asked to talk to him for what hopefully would be one final phone interview. It was, and on Fri night, I got a call from my future manager with the offer and most of the details! Whoo-hoo!

I am still waiting for the offer letter, but unles there is anything surprising in the letter, I will be headed out West sometime in January. (I won't go in to how sad I will be for leaving so many friends here just yet...although it is much of what I think about now.)

Yes, this has been a very big deal, but a few other things that I wanted to tell you about. First, I missed the Condo Board's Holiday party. They (not me) had decorated the lobby festively, although I don't think a purple candle represents Kwanzaa appropriately. Signs were put up on every floor, and I could hear rumblings and murmers about the potency of Steven's punch. Truth be told, wild horses couldn't drag me to this, although at some point I could simply use my "special key" to access the digital recordings of the evening...

The second tidbit to report was an interesting occurance on my flight out West. Sitting on my right was an Allanis Morrisette-attractive woman, slightly older than me, reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting." To my left was a squeaky-voiced 13 year old kid, who was fidgety, had what seemed like 6 coats with him, and nothing or do for a 3 hour flight. That was, until I learned that this kid was in the midst of a budding romance at 30,000 feet. Between talking with the woman (who was adopting a Guatemalan boy) and trying to read, I tried to ignore the boy's constant popping up and down to look at someone in a row ahead. Soon after we took off, an older boy walked down the aisle and tossed a crumpled note to the kid beside me. With the seats so close, and my curiosity peaked, with a sideways glance I read the note: "Hi, my name's Brennan. I normally am pretty shy about this kindof thing, but I think you are cute. I am 17 and I am going to Steamboat. My number is ___ , maybe you can text me."

Holy crap, I thought. Kids these days certainly move fast - a gay romance unfolding right next to me. The 13 year old, whose father was a couple rows back, then spends the next 2 hours in and out of his seat, scribbling a note, then tearing it up, then scribbling a new one. Finally he writes one with his name, age, school name, compliments about the other boy's scarf and hat (I think they are both future dungeon masters), and phone number. After the 17 yr old walks toward the back, the 13 year old waits until he returns and passes the note to him. When the flight lands, the boy couldn't wait to open his phone and immediately gets a call from the older one. What I heard was: "Hi, I'm Chris. Yeah, me too. Hey, my dad is going to Vail, so wait until he leaves. Un-huh."

After getting off the flight, I forgot about the boys until I saw first one and then the other head into a men's room. Fortunately that's the end of my story of the little gay airport romance. At 13, I barely knew how to slow dance with girls in my grade to Lionel Ritchie, never mind meeting a 17 year old girl at an airport with my parents. Ah, kids these days...

That's it for now. Enjoy your week, and enjoy what remains of your civil liberties, too. NATHAN