Woke up early, grabbed the paper on found these two stories on the front page. One, a freed Arafat calling Israeli's Nazi's upon his release. Nice. Way to help spread that message of peace all the Europeans and Nobel Prize people seem to think you're so good at (umm, if the Israeli's were Nazi's, as he so claims, then wouldn't he be gassed by now instead of walking out in front of hundreds and hundreds of tv cameras?). Then there's the story saying that the Germans are all rallying for the Palestinian cause and protesting Israel, conveniently forgetting, of course, the whole fact that nobody would be in this mess if they didn't try to kill all of us a little while back.

Ugh.

And all of this before a phone interview this morning. Which is why I got up so early, because the guy who was setting it up suggested Nine in the morning and because I'm pretty much everyone's bitch right now, I said sure, I'll do Nine. Don't usually get out of bed till 10, but nine will work fine by me (and no, I didn't say that).

Long time ago, I learned my lessons about phone interviews. That basically whatever they want, whenever they want it, however they want it, you have to do it. If they want to conduct it at 3 o'clock in the morning and you standing naked on the corner of 16th & Mission, you have to. The reason I know this is because I've learned that this is so.

Once, a long time ago, I was trying for a job with an Event Planning group. I sent the resume in and one Saturday morning, just as I was getting out of the shower, I picked up the phone only to find some guy from that company on the phone. He told they were interested in me, loved my cover letter (as a joke, I wrote it as a poem), and that they wanted to do a phone interview with me. Problem was, he wanted to do it at that moment. On a Saturday Morning. At like 10. And me just out of the shower, still in a towel and dripping wet. When I kind of hemmed and hawed about doing it, he told me I didn't have to do it then, but that he could set up an appointment to call me back. Great, I said, not knowing I just made a major faux pas, and we arranged for him to call me back the next day around 4.

The day came and I was all prepared. I even had written out pat responses to questions I was sure he was gonna ask. Friends came over to hang out and tried to get me to go out for drinks at the Kezar, my Achilles heel, but I held fast, saying no. I had to be sober and ready. I wanted this job.

So 4 comes around and no call. Then 4:30 comes. Again, nothing. Five came, then 5:30 and six rolled by and still nothing. For two hours, I sat there at the kitchen table, alone in my apartment, sitting with the phone right next to me, pat response at hand. Couldn't help think about my friends drinking pitchers at the Kezar, having a great time, but afraid to get up for fear that will be the one moment that they'll call, and pissed off to high heaven. Not to mention feeling a little on the pathetic side. Did I blow my chance by not wanting to do the interview then, even though I was dripping wet and in a towel? Was this just a screw-up on their part? Or, was someone just fucking with me because, well, I'm not predisposed to the idea that occasionally people just like to fuck with me. I saw the HR department looking at my cover letter, the one I wrote out as a poem, and saying let's have a gas at my expense so they play me. As the saying goes, just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you.

So Nine o'clock interview, here I come. I'm up. I've had my coffee. I've read the paper. I'm ready to go. First problem arises. At pretty much Nine o'clock, I suddenly realize I have to go to the bathroom. Not a #1, but more like a #2 and it didn't feel like it was going to be one of those quickie trips. More like a bring the paper and have a good read kind. But it's also Nine. What to do, what to do? Can't go to the bathroom because if I miss the call, I could screw it all up. He'd leave a message and I'd try to call him back, but besides not looking good, how could I explain it? I could bring the phone into the bathroom with me, but- ick. So I'm not really going anywhere. I'm just going to sit there and wait and hope that even if he does call soon, I won't have a sudden emergency situation going on.

Nine rolls around and nothing. Then it's ten after and still nothing. Just as I start getting that little "uh-oh' voice, the phone rings. Phew. It's the guy from the company. The interview starts.

In some ways, phone interviews aren't that bad. Kind of easier in a way. Here I am, in my apartment, the Fortress of Solitude, unshaven and still in sweatpants and sweatshirt, pretending to be really professional and hirable. It IS easier to relax in these circumstances. You also get to avoid the person directly, which is something I always hate about interviews, especially when it's with more than one person, the whole sitting around and having people watch you like you’re a lab rat or something. Just another thing to make you feel that much more anxious. But in this case, nobody's watching. I could of scratched my balls or watched "Regis & Kelly" if I wanted to and they would never of known a thing (which I didn't do, but still, I could of).

And how did it go? Like most interviews. Hemming and hawing, starting to say somethng and realizing half-way through that you probably shouldn't say things that way, but another way. Being in the middle of a sentence and realizing that you're like a ship lost at sea and not knowing how to get back to the point you were trying to make. Wondering if you should have said this instead of saying that. And wondering the whole time if when he said '"great" he really meant that or was just saying it because it was written on the question sheet he was so obviously reading from.

Sigh.

I need a job.