Baby you can drive my ambulance

After weeks of looking for a job in the biotech industry, I decided to take a step back and see the big picture. Sure, it would be great to get a job in R&D or manufacturing, but it seems that the competition for those jobs is ferocious (1000 resumes were submitted for the TGC opening). So I looked into healthcare. I set up an interview over the phone. Next thing I know, I'm an ambulance driver/EMT. Orientation starts Tuesday. The money is not especially attractive, but I will get patient care experience to enhance my applications to PA programs for next fall.
If the title of this post doesn't ring a bell, please check out The Beatles "Rubber Soul" album.

Don't Go to Grad School

A riddle: How can you go from no experience to overqualified without even getting a job? Answer: graduate school. I just got a polite email from the company I interviewed with last week saying how great they thought I was, but that they would be doing me a disservice if they were to hire me because I would be bored with the job in 3 months. Don't most people get bored at their jobs? Whatever. So, if you want to work in the biotech industry, don't follow my example. Don't go to grad school. Just work your way up.

Seattle Underground field trip

I was invited to chaperone a field trip for my sister to the underground Seattle tour. Seattle was built on a sawdust landfill, and there were numerous problems throughout the 1800's with plumbing and sinkholes. So the main level of the city was later built to the level of the second floor. It's still sinking, but the first story is "underground" so it isn't noticeable. After the tour we walked around Pioneer Square and found the birthplace of the United Parcel Service, where there is a monument including a waterfall. The picture shows myself and my sister Penny at said monument.

Broke No Joke

Over the last several weeks I have been looking for a job and worrying about my waning bank account. It didn't help that I forgot to sign my tax return, nor that it costs $50 for a tank of gas. I had a job interview today at a biotech company downtown, and hope with all my heart that it works out. I will find out if I got the job by the end of next week.
I dropped in at a law firm where I used to work to see my old boss before the interview. He gave me a pep talk, and assured me that everyone goes through a rough time looking for a job, but one of these days when I least suspect there will be 8 job offers all at once. It was inspiring, and when I went out the door, I had a renewed confidence. But walking the few blocks to the interview I felt something hit the top of my head. It wasn't raining. In fact, a malicious and diabolical bird had relieved itself just at the wrong moment in the sky above me. I had to use a restroom in a neighboring building to clean it all off before going into the interview.
This done, I was just a couple of minutes early to the interview. I met with 11 people over about 3 hours. Many of the questions were the same, and I was prepared for most of them. I feel like everyone I met had as good an impression as I could have hoped. Now it's back to writing more cover letters, submitting more resumes, reading Charles Dickens novels, waiting, and crossing my fingers.

More Celestun

These are more pictures taken by the Czech sisters at Celestun for which I am most grateful. What superlative photogenicity and photographical skill!

More from Celestun

I received a few new pictures from Celestun which were taken by a couple of lovely Czech sisters, Petra and Sona. In this picture L to R are shown Petra, myself, Samuel (our guide), and Sona. Petra and Sona are both studying archaeology and hope to study Mayan ruins for their graduate work.

Half the man I used to be

I was getting a haircut today, and after the normal routine the barber asked "So, what are we going to do about the moustache?" I had thought it could use a trim because, truthfully, I hadn't trimmed it in a month. She wanted to use a 2. I told her that was out of the question. I was leaning toward performing the important cut myself, but seen as she was an experienced barber I consented that she could take it to the lip. I guess our idea of what that means was a little different. My moustache extended below the bottom of my upper lip and to trim it back to that boundary was what I wanted. Before I knew it, she took about 2 cm off. It can no longer be called a "soupstrainer" and will be several weeks before I am again close to achieving the "handlebar" I was aiming for. I told the barber that although I didn't like it, I took confidence that she was a professional and she thought it looked better. In reality my self-confidence has been reduced proportionally to the length of my moustache.