Monday, December 29, 2008

Conference Report from Schenectady Skeptinautika.

Skeptinautika here, reporting from The Onanistic Thinkers Association's annual flesh fest... um, job market conference? Well, *I* plan on making extensive use of the hot tub, anyway ;-) Can we say last-minute bikini purchase to combat the pre-interview jitters? I wonder if alcohol's allowed in the pool area...

Yep, three interviews. Count 'em: uno, dos, TRES, fuckers, all on the same day. I have friends with nine and twelve, so I'm under no illusions that I am *not* Elle Superstar this year, but I'm pretty pleased with the yield. And here's the deal, bitches: I ACTUALLY love teaching. I would be perfectly blissful at a reasonably liberal SLAC in any major metropolitan area (or any SLAC, really, were it not for El Partner). So how do I convey that effectively in an interview without sounding like I'm trying to plant my lips on the committee's collective hind parts?

Enough navel-gazing; I know what you came for. Backstabbing! Angst! Bitchiness! Skin skin skin! Well, the registration line was (as usual) out the door. People, is it REALLY that hard to register online ahead of time? You can figure out Turnitin.com, but not the professional organization's website? Asswipes. And similarly for the placement line. Dudes, if you read the conference program, you already know everything that the nice lady in the front of the line is going to tell you. Promise. She will not be impressed if you throw a tantrum because of the "inefficiency" of the system, and you *really* don't want to get on her bad side. Promise. Rushed a Greek house in college? You already know how this works, then, so don't be a dumbass.

And yes, I'm going to play the on-site interview game. I already submitted two requests, in fact, though I'll wet myself if I actually get one. I got all kinds of hairy eyeballs from the other people in the placement line for making small talk with the (shockingly friendly) guys next to me in line. People, I know that we have a reputation for being arrogant bastards, but can we at least pretend like we don't hate each others' guts? Cuz that would be AWESOME. This goddamn conference is about the only place where even *I* feel like a Pollyanna. Just because some of us will walk away and never get a call for a flyout does NOT mean that we have to treat each other like assholes.

And now for the obligatory hating on the hotel: I have to *pay* for wifi?!? SERIOUSLY?!? (I'm stealing a signal now.) You mean my $400 wasn't enough to get me access to a weak-ass Internet signal? Lame, Marriott. LAME, forcing me to go off in search of unprotected signals to poach. Fuckers.

Off in search of sustenance...