As I slide into a religiously tucked hotel bed, I had my morning planned out: a traditional breakfast at 8am, then meeting with Dr. C at 9. I'd even taken care of the billing arrangements by meandering back downstairs, catching the attention of the sort of fetching college woman that made the concierge desk welcoming--though distant.

Sleep was decent. Breakfast was decent. Listening to Dr. C chuckle about this and that was very cool. On the way ahead was an entire day of interviews, straight to 4pm. I assumed they'd be intensive and uncomfortable, maybe like a Bud Lite version of that shitty trip to San Francisco and the 4 hour interview.

I would be pleasantly and extremely wrong.

The primate center was a huge three story slab of concrete right by the railroad tracks, skirted like a slit cocktail dress with parking lots and horny ducks undertoe. The mallards were macking as we approached. The interior was professional, large, robust. They had a conference room..and it was made of deep mahogany with whorls of depth.

At first we talked for a small while about various aspects of the lab and whom I'd be going off to see. That was pleasant, and we went slightly over time.

My first interview was with one of the older staff, a woman who'd received her degree in Anthropology and was interested in biology and the interaction between the two. I think she was slightly thrown off by my questions; then again, that seemed to be a trend that day. She was quite pleasant, tired, and had a sortof Jane Goodall quality to her.

So I talked about my research interests, joked some, and we went slightly over time.

I then got passed off to Sora, Dr. C's graduate student. The young woman was stunning, with the kind of beauty that left all uncertainty about what beauty truly was behind. I could tell she had heavy Irish ancestry by the sculpted oval face, but it was the eyes that made me stumble on my words at first, those piercingly soft green eyes. And she was very kind to boot. She had an engagement ring, of course, but that didn't make her any less pleasant to look at.

I mostly asked her questions about what it was like being in the lab, what it was like being a graduate student at Madison, where'd she'd done her undergrad work, research experience, etc. She printed me out a course list she had of recommended and not so recommended classes, as well as some other stuff.

She asked me about my research interests, joked some, and we went slightly over time.

Next up was Dr. Foreign Guy. Dr. Foreign Guy was the only person who genuinely intimidated me, with that sort of crisp no-nonsense intelligence and bearing that demanded perfection of thought. I don't think it helped my cause when I awkwardly laughed and asked what position he held, and if he was a post-doc..even if 5 minutes before he'd told me he'd already done a post-doc. Can't say why I asked that, but it was the only hitch. I did figure out some questions I could ask about his 'systems neuroscience' course, which basically focuses on, well, systems like vision, hearing, etc. Since Sora had ties to Madison and didn't have to hunt for an apartment, I also asked him about housing. We also meandered into his research, which focused on an aspect of vision I wasn't too interested in.

So he asked me about my research interests, we didn't joke at all, and were on-time.

Sora came by and snagged me. It was near 11:30, so we were off to walk down to the psychology building. There was a Biopsychology seminar at 12:00, but first--another interview, and this time with only 15 minutes on the clock.

I was handed off Dr. C's two post-doctoral people, who worked on the human side of his research. One was a (I think) Ukranian woman in her 50's, the other a bright bulb of a young late 20 to early 30-something woman with frazzled curly hair and a nice smile. They seemed quite interested in picking my brain, asking me if I had interests in doing human research, but then going off to ask how I felt about ethics and testing on animals. I gave your generic "Well, it sucks and I don't like it, but I'm used to it and it's gotta be done for progress" spiel. I mean, I don't mind it, but it's important to explain how you came to that mindset.

So they also asked me about my research interests, we joked alot, and went slightly over time. There was one awkward moment where I hadn't phrased something clearly, but we skated past that.

In fact, they walked with me to the elevator and mentioned where the seminar room was. I got the impression curly-haired post-doc liked me.

Up next was the Biopsychology seminar. The doors on the 6th floor were all closed. I wandered right and left to a dead-end, then back-paced and wandered left and right. Sora saw me through the door and waved for me to come in. She'd saved me a seat--and thankfully the talk was just beginning. The speaker was having technical issues with getting Powerpoint to work. Finally, she abandoned it to someone else fiddling with it while she got underway.

I'd detail the work, but it got complicated and it doesn't make for entertaining material. I mostly listened to others offer their opinions, since long ago I'd learned that silence suggests everything, while words can nail down opinions about you.

After the talk I was scheduled next to talk to the speaker, a very pleasant young professor in her 30's. It was a very collegial, open discussion, with me asking questions about some aspects of the department, her background, making some comments about the weather, my trip, and other academia related stuff. At one point I mentioned with a laugh that I was having trouble asking more questions, because I wanted to be thorough. She assured me several times that I was and had been "very thorough"..and I think she meant it in a good way with that sortof half nervous/half assured laugh.

So she asked me about my research, we joked alot, and went slightly over time.

After that, the good doctor lead me to the library where Sora was studying (and where she mentioned she'd be). She smiled a genuine smile and asked me how the interviews were going, if there was anyone else I wanted to speak with, if I wanted to get something to eat--stuff like that.

I told her, trying my best to be polite, that I wanted to speak with another graduate student who was farther along--who could speak about more of the classes. She thought that was reasonable and we looked around for some. We ended up coming across two guys at the tail end of their Madison stint. I asked them questions; Sora did too since she hadn't taken many classes. The answers weren't terribly useful: mostly that I was free to take classes that I thought were useful. See, the requirements at Madison are 3 core classes, 3 statistics/methods classes and several seminar classes. And all you needed to keep was a B average. I figured that'd be a cake walk. Sora just sorta shrugged and had a "Well that was an amusing waste of time" grin on her face when we walked out. Had to agree, but it was kinda useful in cementing the general feel among graduate students.

So, onto the food part. We breezed through the primate center to tell Dr. C. He mentioned I had another interview at 3, and it was 2:30pm, so there was no way we could make it. Sora and I decided to try anyway.

I wanted to try mexican on a whim, to see if Madison had anything decent and authetmic. Sora was a little surprised but then liked the idea. While we were eating she thanked me for the suggestion; she mentioned she'd have just snacked throughuot the day otherwise. We generally talked about the town, more graduate student stuff, and a little about her dog and bits about one another. We finished in record time, she dropped me off at the psych. building (with a friendly yell from her car about where it was), and I went to see Dr. Kobayashi.

Dr. Kobayashi was incredibly awesome. He's a clinical/developmental guy who got his training in child psychiatry. Most clinicians are really friendly, warm, open people and he was no exception. He spoke glowingly of Madison, Dr. C, the collaborations people could do and this Independent Major program, which he said seemed to fit in with my interests. Along the collaboration deal, he mentioned that he and Dr. C were doing alot of collaborations, since Dr. Kob had alot of kids on-file that were high anxiety/had lots of maladjustive upbringing. I'm all about studying clinical disorders, so Dr. Kob seemed like he'd be a great person to have on my dissertation committee. He gave me his card, mentioned I could email him anytime.

Of course, he asked me about my research interests, we joked around alot, and went really over time.

----

And so, after all that, I walked back to the primate center. It was now time for Dr. C to show me the monkeys.

Now, I'm guessing all of you have never been inside a monkey facility. It's a whole other world. Japanese music filters along the walls in soft, dulcet tones, cracked and deafened by a high pitched squeal down the haul or some oddly pleasant trill elsewhere. When you enter into a room of monkeys, they go, well, ape shit--and more so when you're about to leave. I made eye contact with some of the monkeys and they opened their mouths wide, looking at me, starring while they sat there or came closer. They were all in cages, but the sudden bangs and jars as I moved through the narrow strip between them was frightening. I get startled very easily, and this was absolutely nothing like a room full of rats. It was exhilirating. Dr. C would occasionally talk to me about this point or that experiment...and I listened well, but at the same time I was captivated, afraid--exhilirated.

We moved from one floor to another, scoping out all the various different sorts of monkeys, from youngin's and their mothers to juveniles to the huge--and quite mean looking--adult male studs. It was alarming to feel and hear how loud they banged their cages, but I got used to it. Dr. C occasionally mentioned that monkeys were a big commitment and not for everyone. At the time I didn't know whether or not I wanted to work with them--but they did intrigue me.

Eventually, we dropped back down to the conference room, had about an hour of questions and generally wrapped things up. I could tell he was concerned about my wanting to work with monkeys and if my research interests lined up with his. I tried to explain myself and streamline my interests into a tight nugget, but that didn't happen so hot. When I mentioned my interest in nutrition--aside from how social and environmental stress contribute to onset of depressive and anxiety episodes--I sensed I'd said too much.

It was about 5 or 5:30 then, so we decided to go to the airport. My flight left at 7. On the way he mentioned several things to keep in mind about Madison, but then we talked about other things: the new Passion of the Christ movie and how we'd gone on road trips. The airport was only 10 minutes from downtown--with no rush hour--so we got there in no time. I asked him if he had any questions for me. His only one that he wanted to ask was if I could explain which skills I wanted to transfer over. However, as he said, there wasn't enough time for that.

We shook hands, we smiled, he left. I generally had a great feeling about the whole trip.

----

A few days later, he sent me an email about his initial thoughts. He mentioned that I should give serious consideration to Madison and, in particular, his lab. From his perspective, my interests didn't seem to really mesh with his--but he mentioned that was ok. On that note, it was odd that he was the only person not to ask me about my interests. He also emphasized that monkeys were not for everyone, and that I should give alot of thought to if I wanted to work with them. Finally, he had some concerns that some of the other labs I applied to weren't really like his.

At first I felt humilliated and very upset. I thought the two days had gone over excellently well, but somehow all of the problems in my head had materialized in his notes. Too, I felt like I hadn't made myself clear enough. I knew that his interests and mine overlapped quite a bit, I just didn't know how to transfer my experience or research ideas from rats to monkeys. There was one night I was riding back from the valley, after having seen the Passion of the Christ with Daniel, and began to rage with no reason. I was angry--horribly angry. I wondered why everything seemed so wrong now. It upset me. I thought I'd found my niche.

It wasn't until I re-read the letter, though, that I realize he was just making sure I knew exactly what I was getting into before I accepted. I respect that. I wrote back in reply. It was a long letter, trying to cover his reservations. I haven't read the reply yet..but I should. I guess I'm just afraid of his not being totally confident with me, that maybe he'd suddenly decide not to take me--even if the acceptance letter is just a foot from me.

I was afraid my (so it seems) only opportunity to go to grad school was in jeopardy. And what a hurt that was, since it felt so collegial and wonderful and supportive at Madison. It was night and day with Dr. Zivago's lab. There, in Madison, was respect, order, care. When I said goodbye to Sora, she told me twice how genuinely great it was to have met me. The last thing I saw was her eyes, me looking at her, vice-versa, smiling. That meant alot to me, saying as if I was welcome there. That's why Dr. C's email hurt at first.

----

As it is, I'm almost certain I will accept the offer. It seems like an ocean away, but only takes one word: yes. The fact that'd it'd be 4 years doesn't bother me. I've spent over 1 year with Dr. Ziv and it's been sucky mostly, but decent. Having real colleagues and good research would make the time quickly pass.

I'm not sure what's holding me back from accepting. I suppose I want to be absolutely certain. My mom's psychic, Lily--a friend of hers that's gone to spiritual classes with Ma--mentioned that it'd be a very good step for me. She didn't know my situation, you see, but, well, she's allegedly psychic and some of her predictions have been so specific and useful that I think she holds water. And, frankly, I was raised New Age, so I take stock with such things.

The closest thing it comes down to, metaphorically, is seeing the road before you. You know what it looks like, how it wends around, even how it ends. However, you still have to walk down that road to get a feel for what it's really like--and if it's right for you.

I'm almost certain it is, but I need more time. That, thankfully, I still have...

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