For about the last 4 days, we'd agreed to go over to her boyfriend's place in Palos Verdes and celebrate. Today she tells me that I apparently "don't have to go over there after all," since a few local friends of hers wanted her company. At the time I thought this meant her coming by later and picking me up for festivities since they were more local. In actuality, it meant that I had no place in the plans we'd made, a fact she hadn't bothered communicating to me and only becomes apparent since it's 11:00pm and she isn't here.

But Gran is here. After having been gone for hours (to what I thought was a New Years celebration), she came back an hour ago. The same insipid questions, the same insipid comments about whatever I was watching or doing, the same insipid her. Without alcohol, without food, but with Gran to utterly kill any festive mood I previously had before she came home. Thank you for ruining my New Years, Mother. In fact, fuck you for ruining my New Years. I could have gone to Charlie's or a decent pub at least.

The immediate present out of the way, I've been spending more time looking for more 'real job' prospects the last few days. Most of the positions for market analysts, researchers or the like are very limited for people with only a few years of experience. On the higher end of the spectrum, it's never been a better time to have a doctorate or even a master's degree in psychology or neuroscience. Great for 'senior' professionals, but grant money or private funding for people like me is small and far between. Even so, I applied to one place doing mice and rat studies and I'm looking into a contact that the Tennessee doctor guy gave me.

The whole reason for my renewed interest in job-hunting came on the heels of my interview with Dr. Tennessee. I was supposed to meet him at 10am in a Lawyer-oriented coffee shop down in Santa Monica. I hadn't slept at all the night before: I'd been waiting for this hour for months. All the meditations and relaxation techniques couldn't make a god damned bit of difference. True to my college form, though, I was stable; with caffeine I was even eloquent.

As 9:45 rolled around and Gran had ceased making random observations of things outside the car, I got out and waited. The place was closed 'til Jan 21st. I was confused but waited awhile. Up comes this bright red sports car, a middle-aged man with a conservative beard and ear-ring stud sliding out. He didn't bother shaking my hand or saying hello, just apologized for the shop being closed and directing me to a local diner. I don't take stock with most stereotypes, but you can count on one or two things with WASP men that have advanced degrees: they either like red cars/fast cars or have the social grace of a New York subway car.

The diner was dull inside, some Mid-West motif except brimming with minorities. He asked me the standard questions: why did I go to the college I did, what experience did I have, why was I working and not going to grad school immediately, etc. His body language and facial expressions conveyed interest and openness generally; good signs. I only screwed up two or three times, mostly because I didn't stroke enough ego. For example, when he asked me how I came to know about his lab, I honestly told him his interests were right and he replied back, rather than hearing about him like some mystical Aztec god that I'd traversed sharp rocks barefoot just to scatter offerings to. Even so, he mused that IF his grant came through, then I'd have "top priority". An hour and 15 minutes just to hear the subtle equivalent of "you're first choice or close to it". Only one catch: while someone had told him his grant would "probably" go through, it had to be resubmitted and decided on sometime around May or June.

May or fucking June. Here I've been sitting on my hands for the last three months listening to "yeah, it'll come through soon" and he rolls over when some grant review board suggests he changes the SUB-CATEGORY of his proposal! Driving back in Gran's car I thought fuck it, I've wasted enough time waiting for one guy. I hated searching for jobs, but I'm starting to hate the wait and living in this house even more.

And with getting a car soon (and my fashionably late license), I can get a semi-serious job in the meanwhile. I want to be financially productive again.

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