Avanti
After spending one (1) day entirely vegetating with a hand-me-down copy of STAR WARS: Knights of the Old Republic (I managed to get my very own light saber before going to bed, but I think I'll make a terrible Jedi), I am ready to move forward again. The tasks aren't insurmountable, just manifold. And most of them just feel like wastes of time. For example, instead of putting my bill on my credit card, the hotel in DC put it on my bank card not once but twice. So even once they refund one of those, my checks will be bouncing until I get paid again on January 27th. Stuff like that. Not a disaster, just a time-wasting problem.
But today I have lots of incentive to work on various bits of the book, because I've got to cut them down to 20-minute presentations for my campus visits, of which, praise the All Thing, there are now two! My two absolutely worst interviews were apparently the most impressive ones, and they might be my last choices, but I have two campus visits. Maybe this means there'll be more, and maybe not, but at least I've made the second-to-last cut at Cowpoke State and New Amsterdam. The former wants me there for four days, the latter is going to scoop me off to JFK for half a day of informal howdies.
The fact that these were really my worst interviews gives me pause. The New Amsterdam interviewers alternated between bullying me about my writing sample, gushing about productions of Merchant of Venice, and staring at me stonily. The hotel room door was scarcely shut before I muttered "that sucked ASS." But apparently they found me very impressive both on paper and in person. What the hell? I'm not complaining, but how can we ever gauge the effectiveness of our interviewing techniques if the horrific ones bear fruit? I've come more and more to think that a good (or bad) interview has less to do with the interviewee's performance than on the interviewers' preparation and mood. These two were interviewing their replacements, which is not a good idea. It just makes everyone grumpy. Still, it got me a campus visit, so maybe grumpiness and ill-preparedness are good things. I still haven't heard from the interviews that I thought I rocked.
But today I have lots of incentive to work on various bits of the book, because I've got to cut them down to 20-minute presentations for my campus visits, of which, praise the All Thing, there are now two! My two absolutely worst interviews were apparently the most impressive ones, and they might be my last choices, but I have two campus visits. Maybe this means there'll be more, and maybe not, but at least I've made the second-to-last cut at Cowpoke State and New Amsterdam. The former wants me there for four days, the latter is going to scoop me off to JFK for half a day of informal howdies.
The fact that these were really my worst interviews gives me pause. The New Amsterdam interviewers alternated between bullying me about my writing sample, gushing about productions of Merchant of Venice, and staring at me stonily. The hotel room door was scarcely shut before I muttered "that sucked ASS." But apparently they found me very impressive both on paper and in person. What the hell? I'm not complaining, but how can we ever gauge the effectiveness of our interviewing techniques if the horrific ones bear fruit? I've come more and more to think that a good (or bad) interview has less to do with the interviewee's performance than on the interviewers' preparation and mood. These two were interviewing their replacements, which is not a good idea. It just makes everyone grumpy. Still, it got me a campus visit, so maybe grumpiness and ill-preparedness are good things. I still haven't heard from the interviews that I thought I rocked.
posted by James at 6:38 AM
1 Comments:
I can just hear the post-interview exchange between the interviewers from the ones that you thought you rocked:
"Wow . . . that guy's smart, funny, and a triple-threat-asset to our faculty . . . but he did kind of have that 'I think I rock' attitude going . . . did you catch that?"
"Yeah. Shame, too, because I felt that his young-male-haircut so perfectly counter-balanced what would otherwise have been a theoretically queer polish. Future department chair, to be sure. He just kind of thinks he rocks, doesn't he . . . "
"Yeah."
You know, James, this reminds me of university theater performances. Every time I thought I had really nailed it (which, incidentally, were the times where it was going so well that I came completely out of the moment in my head just long enough to think, "Wow this is going really well!"), the stage manager would lovingly ask, "What the hell is wrong with you tonight?"
When I was miserable about my performance, she loved it. Apparently, it forced me to be "real."
Screw real.
Anyway, I am entirely certain that such is NOT the case here. That is, the most prestigious and fabulous univ's that haven't contacted you yet had more applications. So there you sit in the "Definitely Call for a Campus Visit" pile while they sift through the rest to see who barely makes the cut.
Certain of it, am I. Because you don't just think you rock. You F'in Rock. (I hope it's not too regressionary <--(is that a word?) to use "F'in" in a sentence . . . I do it rather frequently these days . . . is it too "rock star" from the Greek days? hadn't even occurred to me, until I use it around you . . . oh, the self-consciousness!! I'm going to stop being so parenthetical now.)
Talk to you soon, Jaime.
Keep up the good work.
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