If only I could report on something other than the mundane! I would so like to share some deep personal insight. Some profound philosophical thought. Some meaningful analysis of current affairs. Some evidence of critical thinking. Perhaps even something bizarrely irreverent and/or outrageously funny.
Ah, but I’m sorry: my life is mostly focused on an ambitious to-do list that seems to govern my existence.
Foremost on my mind is making this next major transition happen.
It was exactly a year ago that I posted an entry entitled The Cardboard Jungle. I was living in Portland and about to make a move from the house I’d inhabited for two years. My dwelling was a maze of moving boxes as I was preparing to depart the city. Even though it was mid-June, and I needed to be out of the house by the end of the month, I was still unsure, at the time, where I was going. As it turned out, I interviewed for and accepted a temporary position here in Roseburg , and this is where I’ve been for about 11 months now.
However, it’s time to move on. Again.
I’m needing to entirely change my life. Yet again.
As you know, I’m headed to the Bay Area of California. I’ve accepted a new job down there and given notice on my Roseburg place. I’ll be packing up the truck on June 29. However, it’s total déjà vu as I’m living, once more, in a sea of cardboard. I started the packing process this weekend by retrieving my healthy stockpile of flattened boxes from storage and distributing them strategically around my current abode. I know I’ll basically be living out of boxes and suitcases for a couple of months now. Which I really, really hate.
There’s just something about walking into an apartment that is in total disarray and smells of musty cardboard that is quite off-putting to me. Once the boxes appear, the living space ceases to offer any kind of sense of comfort. I feel like I’m homeless and camping out in a garage. Which I sorta am.
This whole situation creates a familiar sense of anxiety because even though I’ve made my moving plans, I really don’t know where I’m going: I don’t have a destination address yet! And I won’t be able to start apartment hunting until next week. My plans are to drive down to San Rafael this weekend and start looking around on Monday morning. Well, they physical part of looking anyway. I’ve made daily visits to Craigslist and, by now, am quite familiar with the virtual apartment-hunt. I’m very eager, though, to check out these places in person and put my money down on something. I want to be able to have a picture in my head of where, exactly, I’m next going to call home.
Now, speaking of driving there…
One of the things on my totally unmanageable to-do list, associated with accepting a new job and anticipating a move, was to get a new car. My trusty 1999 Subaru Forester, my entirely-reliable vehicle for the last 8 years, was showing, at 110,000 miles, some signs of aging. And I wanted a new one. Well, not necessarily a new Forester, but a new vehicle. (More than likely a new, small SUV.)
So, nine days ago, right after I finalized the job offer, I went car shopping. (Only after I took some time to do a little research, though: I signed up for access to the new- and used-car reports at ConsumerReports.org.) I had discovered that the Toyota RAV4 is currently the most highly-rated small SUV. The Honda CRV is also right up there. The Forester, my old and trusted friend, is still satisfactorily rated, but no longer quite at the top.
So I went shopping thinking that I might end up with a RAV4 this time. I wanted to drive one of the more-gutsy V6 models (with the same gas mileage as a four cylinder) but the Eugene dealership did not have one available when I was there. (I did drive a Prius for the first time and learned a little bit about hybrids, though.) Then I went down the street to drive a fairly-snazzy CRV. Finally, I took a spin in a 2007 L. L. Bean Edition Subaru Forester. And I was hooked all over again. I loved the leather interior, the power seats with lumbar support, and the familiar feel. So, I ended up making a deal for a new one. There wasn’t a red-colored one at my dealership, however, so I had to wait a couple of days while they had one shipped down from Olympia , WA . This particular car had a Sirius satellite radio already installed, and it only took me another day to decide to activate a subscription for myself. And, while thinking about navigating the unfamiliar territory of the North Bay region, it took just a couple more days after that to decide that I wanted a GPS as well. So, this last weekend, I went to Circuit City and purchased a Garmin nüvi 350 for the new vehicle, a portable “personal travel assistant” that tells me where I am, plots out my route, and tells me where to go. Literally. Constantly.
So, as of right now, I have three days left at my current place of employment. I go home to utter chaos every night. I am scheduled to drive down to the Bay Area this weekend. And I will continue, as best I can, to make steady progress on my overwhelming list of tasks as I face this next big transition.
My hope is a better life awaits me in California than the one Oregon has offered me in recent times. With a new job, new car, new car toys, and soon a new place to live…I’m ready!
The short version: The job hunt is over! I have accepted the position of Dean of Math and Sciences at the College of Marin! I will be moving down to the Bay Areavery soon.
The slightly longer version: On April 27th I traveled to the Bay Area to interview for the position of Dean of Math and Sciences at the College of Marin in Kentfield, CA…a short distance from San Francisco, a small town up in Marin County, a little bit north of the Golden Gate Bridge. Given the proximity to San Fran, former home of the Grateful Dead, and feeling extraordinarily good that day, I wore one of my many colorful Jerry Garcia ties for the occasion. During the process, one of my interviewers asked me about my attire and I admitted the neckwear was, indeed, a J. Garcia, adding that “well, you know, I was thinking ‘San Francisco’ when I got dressed this morning…” We all chuckled a little bit over my comment.
The whole time on campus that day had quite a comfortable feel to it, and I spent the afternoon in two long interviews which, at the time, I believed, went quite well. But the days, and then eventually weeks, went by and I heard nothing…so I was starting to put this job possibility out of my mind when, a week ago Friday (May 18th), I received a call from them seeking permission to contact my references. Well, yeah, please do!
So, during the following week, they made their calls until, finally last Friday, Ireceived a call offering me the job. Ohmygod, I thought, this is really happening! The job search is over!
Today we came to agreement on the terms of employment and, so now, having the deal in writing, I will be packing up my stuff here in Oregon (where I’ve spent virtually my entire adult life) very shortly and moving down to the land of earthquakes and extremely (obscenely?) high real-estate prices.
I feel very fortunate that I have been offered this position, one of the most attractive I applied for this (or any other) year, and in a location that, I believe, will suit me just fine. I can’t wait to be a Golden Stater, actually…and to live so close to the city that I’ve been drawn to ever since my first visit there in 1971.
It’s been three long years now since my departure from the Oregon University System and the beginning of my quest to re-make my life as a community college administrator. It’s looking like things have worked out after all!
For those who have been there to support me through the thin and thick of this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
If you’ve been checking in here and wondering what’s up, it’s pretty much the same ol’ same ol’…I’m still spending an incredible amount of time and energy devoted to the job search (…and I don’t have nearly enough of those commodities to devote to photography, writing & blogging!). There is a little time to wander around during my travels, though, and I took this photo (I like the curve) while up in Portland last Monday. Even though Mt. Tabor was not exactly in the neighborhood of my hotel or interview, I still made some space on a balmy Monday evening to take a stroll around one of my favorite Portland parks.
One of the “time-out” activities I did this weekend was to watch the DVD entitled “The Secret.” In case you haven’t heard of this production, it’s one of the latest vehicles for promoting the new-agey kind of belief system (the “law of attraction”) that “like attracts like” or “thoughts become things.”
I’m a big fan of the First Amendment. So finally, after a lifetime of thinking about it, last year I sent in my money to the ACLU and became a card-carrying member. Actually, it wasn’t long after I wrote a blog entry here entitled “Freedom of Speech” that I decided to sign up.
The reason I mention this now is that, quite recently, the topic of free speech entered my life as it pertains to this website. To wit, I have received the feedback that I might want to re-think my decision to discuss my job-search activities on these pages.
Upon hearing this person’s opinion, I admit to feeling mildly embarrassed…and well as somewhat stunned by the unexpected criticism. My initial reaction was to think “ohmygod, I must be f%*#ing up!” I also began wondering if I was, perhaps, unintentionally sabotaging my search for a new position. I immediately reacted to this individual’s viewpoint by un-publishing several recent posts that mentioned my job hunt and some experiences I had had during my travels.
However, in the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about my reactivity, and have re-read (several times) the posts I am now hiding from view. And, you know what? I actually think they’re pretty harmless. In these entries, I have talked mostly about myself (which is, after all, what I do here), about the exhausting nature and uncertainty of the job-search process (this is a secret?), and offered up some personal observations of events that have happened while I’ve been on the road.
IMHO, I’ve not harmed any person or organization. And, when I’ve tried to have a little fun by talking about the peculiarity of some things I’ve encountered along the way, I’ve taken care to leave unidentified the person(s) or group(s) involved.
It was quite some time ago now (in “First Do No Harm”) that I addressed the whole area of blogger ethics, examining my own behavior and motivations in publishing this work. At that time I specifically discussed my personal philosophy, including “ …[having] no outright intention of embarrassing, attacking, angering or hurting” anyone. And, really, let me reiterate: I certainly have no agenda to offend, attack or harm anybody here, including myself.
I hope that you, having found your way to this obscure little corner of virtual reality, will remain open-minded enough to allow me this minor self-indulgence (existing wholly apart from my professional existence) called TechnoMonk’s Musings.
Update on June 8, 2007:
After conscientiously re-examining this whole freedom-of-speech issue, I’ve decided to publish again the handful of posts I had hidden in reaction to a reader’s comment. So, if you browse this blog now, you’ll be able to read my rather benign writings on the topic of my job search.
This last week involved two out-of-state interview trips: activity that is extremely exhausting! There’s just so little left of me that my blog-life is suffering tremendously. I apologize.
I appreciate it immensely that you keep checking back to see if there’s another new posting here. Yes, eventually, there always is.
The trip to Kentfield, California, last Friday seemed to unfold quite positively. I have a good feeling about the College of Marin and the possibilities of taking on a position there. Of course, with any job-search activity, the word to the wise is: expect the unexpected. Rarely does the process go entirely smoothly. I anxiously await news from the south.
I must mention: there was a glitch in the travel on Friday. My plan was to fly to San Francisco, take a shuttle up to Kentfield (north of the city, across the Golden Gate Bridge), then do the reverse process following the afternoon of interviewing. It all seemed so easy. (Well, it was to be a long day of travel and stress, but other than that…) The fly in the ointment turned out to be the shuttle service: an outfit called Marin Door to Door. They have a good, and confidence-inspiring, website and telephone-message system. When I called to book the reservation, the person on the phone seemed quite competent, knowledgeable, and accommodating. They called me the night before to confirm my ride from campus to the airport in the evening. (I had been instructed to call them upon my arrival at the airport for pickup.)
Ah, but when I did arrive at SFO, things started to totally unravel. They had typed in the wrong flight number for my flight, and although they had recorded the correct arrival time, they chose to believe their erroneous information regarding flight number and insisted that they weren’t expecting me until two hours later. When I patiently explained that the error was on their part, that I had indeed arrived exactly when I said I would, the gentleman (HA!) became quite agitated. This started a series of several contentious phone calls that lasted until I was finally picked up, almost exactly two hours later than I had requested. The process involved us shouting at each other over the phone at one point, including the flat-out admonition to me that I should be more careful about giving them the correct information when making a reservation!
The experience also involved a driver from the airport to campus that spoke no English. None. Consequently, I had very little confidence that I was going to end up in the right city, much less the specific campus I had requested. He was able to punch the college’s address into his GPS device (I think), but quickly got lost. Somehow, within minutes of us heading north on the freeway, we were off onto surface streets, turned around, and headed south toward San Jose. I know the way to San Jose, and it’s not in the direction of Kentfield! But could I communicate this to my driver? No way. All he could say was, “sorry, no Englais.”
Somehow, we made it. However, the entire scenario was repeated coming home as well, and involved, at this juncture, another company representative hanging up on me as I was calling to inquire about the status of my ride during my evening commute.
