Holiday Greetings Dear Readers! No, this doesn't mean you're not getting a card. It means my public has been clamoring for another edition of the Deborah Chronicles and it's time to do something about it.
And welcome to my new readers. Periodically I write these Deborah Chronicles to amuse my friends. Let me know if you want back issues or would like to unsubscribe.
Remember -- I don't make this stuff up!
In this Issue:
*Deborah doesn't do Michigan and other Job News*
I am still in the market for a new job, but have been selective about the jobs to which I apply. The University of Michigan passed on me because I was too ambiguous about whether or not I wanted the job. Just as well, I just heard that the man I would have worked for -- and liked -- left for a job in Colorado.
In the meantime, I get calls from recruiters looking to fill similar positions at other universities. The only one I am considering seriously is Yale, although Johns Hopkins is a possibility, too. Other pending positions: Director of the Foundation Center in DC (interviewed for the position -- remarkably, nothing remarkable happened on the way -- but discover that I'm not really interested); Kellogg Foundation in Battle Creek, Michigan; Pew Charitable Trusts in Philly; the National Council of Nonprofit Associations in DC; the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy in DC; and the Peace Development Fund, a national grantmaking organization in -- of all places -- Amherst.
*She's Hot Stuff - Part 1*
And, as of Wednesday, my stock at the University has skyrocketed because I was successful in securing an $850,000 grant from the Kresge Foundation!! For foundation fundraisers in higher education, this is the pinnacle of success; Kresge is one of the most difficult foundations to please. I am floating. With good fortune, I had my Annual Performance Review the next day and another unit of the University has tried to interest me in a different position. I may be able to design what I want to do should I decide to stay at the University.
*Making the Most Out of One's Life - Part 1*
I was in North Carolina for a conference at Duke University. The schedule was tight and we were sequestered in a too-posh hotel. I was yearning to get out and hear blues and eat barbeque. On the way to the airport I tell the shuttle driver how sorry I am that I didn't get to eat barbeque and, especially hush puppies. When I told him that people where I live don't even know what hush puppies are, he was appropriately empathetic. We discussed various barbeque places and he told me which one was the best. I sighed, mourning the loss. He paused for a moment and then said, "You know, we're going right by there on the way to the airport." "Really?" I asked, feeling more pained. "Yeah," says he, "and we've got time to stop." I started to say no and then I thought, "why the hell not?!" So we did! I ran inside while the engine was running and ordered a pulled pork barbeque sandwich with coleslaw and a DOZEN hush puppies. I was giddy. The man in front of me let me go ahead of him when he heard I had stopped in on the way to the airport. Grab pleasure whenever you can.
*Olympic Tryouts*
Speaking of grabbing pleasure, here's an amusing story about Deborah's love life. It was a pleasant day in September. A suitor (when was the last time you heard THAT term?!) invited me to lunch. Fine time. Later that afternoon someone at work gave me two tickets they couldn't use to go see Lucinda Williams that night. I called around, but couldn't find anyone interested or able (said suitor works nights). I considered another suitor -- let's call him #2 -- that I enjoyed, but whom I had not heard from in awhile and because of that thought, "Hmmmph, he doesn't deserve it if he can't manage a call." I get home -- still haven't found a playmate to go with me -- and there on my answering machine is a messge from wayward suitor #2 asking me if I could be spontaneous that evening. So I called and offered the ticket and despite being 2 hours away (of course 2 hours away -- you *know* I can't manage local romances!!), he said yes. We agreed to meet in front of the theater.
I go to the theater. As I drive there I think I see a man on the street who I met through a personal ad online; he had sent me his picture, but we hadn't met yet because, frankly, I was juggling enough. So, as I'm standing out in front of the theater awaiting the arrival of suitor #2, Personal Ad -- let's call him, say, suitor #3 -- walks by. I call to him. Now understand this man has just moved to town (a sports medicine doctor), knows no one really, has a very unusual name, doesn't have a clue what I look like AND doesn't know my real name. He looks both startled and confused. I quickly explain, giving my online "handle." We start to chat and he asks if I am waiting for someone. I say yes and he says then maybe I shouldn't be seen talking with him, to which I say, "nah, it'll be good for him!" at which point #2 drives up, I say good bye to #3 and hop into #2's car to help him go park and he, of course because I wanted him to, noticed nothing about me talking with #3.
At this point I have an image in my head of a baton relay.
I enjoy the show with #2 and we part after the show because he has a long drive in front of him.
Then I drive to a nightclub where a man (#4!) I had promised that I would come hear his band is playing. A full day indeed.
I'm going to try out for the marathon team next.
*Where the Boys Are*
I was just going to tell you that Rest Stop Man has been deposed by Nude Beach Guy in terms of odd places to meet men. Then, since the last six months has been particularly productive, I thought I would make a list and see just where the boys are. Single friends, pay attention!
Oh, but first you say you want to know more about Nude Beach Guy? Not much to tell, we went out a few times, I wasn't that interested. (I don't recommend this venue particularly -- it's impossible to flirt naked, and frankly, it's too much information!) I'm not really into the whole nude bathing scene, but I do like swimming naked and it just seems rude to put clothes on when you come out of the water.
So, here's my accounting of where the boys are:
And 10 Lords A Leapin'!
*World Tour*
Some of you may recall that the last major beau, John, was from South Africa. The current, Tommy, (this one met on an airplane) is from Germany. But no, he doesn't live there! I'm actually operating in the same time zone -- not the same state, mind you -- but close enough -- Connecticut. The difference in our native tongues is making for some hilarious conversation. I told him that I liked his company. He sat puzzled, trying to figure out why I liked his place of work. We have a lot of fun together hiking, exploring, going to hear music, and yes, talking (often about language! if anybody can explain when you use "while" and when you use "during" we'd both be appreciative).
*Making the Most Out of One's Life - Part 2*
I decided to start a book club in the hopes of finding compatiable women and making friends. But I wanted to make sure that it wasn't stuffy like one I had been to, so I told folks when they expressed interest that I like to be baudy and raucous and that was going to be the tone of the group. I told this to my cousin Lynn, who said, "Oh, the Baudy Book Club? The BBC -- sounds classy, but it's not!" That has become our name and our motto.
*She's Hot Stuff - Part 2*
I was on the phone with a friend who was having a tough week. I was cooking as we spoke, listening closely, allowing her to spill. At one point, I smelled something burning. I looked down and I see that the sweatshirt I am wearing has been resting against the burner and is now on fire!! I considered my options quickly. My friend was expressing a very emotional thought -- it didn't seem like the time to interrupt. So I held onto the phone with one hand and patted my sweatshirt with the other. The fire went out, so I just carried on the conversation -- didn't mention it.
*Making the Most Out of One's Life - Part 3*
This story proves that it's not me -- I still know how to make friends. I was in Los Angeles for a conference. Part of the conference included an event at the new Getty Museum. I had agreed to meet a friend there. I got to the appointed place and he was not there yet. I see another woman sitting on a bench. I say hello and ask her if she also is waiting for a friend. She says yes. I say, well if they don't show up, we'll hang out together. So Maxine and I have a lot of fun chatting. Eventually our friends show up and we go our separate ways. Later as I am taking a group up to my room (party in Deborah's room!), I see Maxine and her friend in the hotel bar. She motions to me, but since I have everyone in the elevator waiting to go to my room, I just wave. Once upstairs, I decide that that was rude, I go back downstairs and invite Maxine and her friend up to the party. So they come up and now I have a new friend in LA!
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