When it rains, it pours.

Considering how much I whine about the weather in Portland, the beginning of this entry is oddly completely unrelated to weather.  While I was out-of-state interviewing, the local non-profit called me for a second interview, so I had to speed back to Portland for what ended up being an unsuccessful mission.  Well, unsuccessful in the sense that they didn’t offer the job to me, but not a categorical failure: it was a second interview and not being offered the job does save me from facing the unpleasant dilemma of choosing between doing what’s smart and what’s in more direct service of my long-term goals (and what I’d rather do anyways).

So, my interview out-of-state seemed like it went really well.  Which is to say: I left the building and felt good about how the interview went.  My friend was one of the people interviewing me, and though she certainly didn’t softball anything, it was reassuring to know there was someone in the room who already thought I was neat enough to be there.  And, I just finished rereading Northanger Abbey, (I love Jane Austen so much) which has a protracted section about the misuse of the word “neat” so I like that, in this case, it works for both the old-school and modern meanings.

In any case, that interview lead to a informational interview that’s in line with what I (at least at this point in my life) want to do.  I feel like I can’t get too far into the details of the situation because it is so tenuous and contingent, but it was flattering.  In that other interview, the staff person mentioned a position open at another college which I had seen, but didn’t think I was quite ready for.  In fact, I have been looking at other positions to develop the skills I thought I’d need to put together an effective application for that kind of job in a few years.

Another friend, who works in that office at that particular college, encouraged me to apply for it (I think I’ll get further into this when I write about LinkedIn), as well as a few other loosely associated people, and so I did.  What I find particularly funny about this situation is that I didn’t realize until a few days ago that the person for whom I’d be working in that position is someone I met this past spring when I reported the license plate of the car that hit theirs and stuck around for the police to interview.  Small world, no?

When I called her office, I mentioned both the person from the other interview had mentioned the position, and my friend who works at the college, and someone I’d worked with at Scripps who has an analogous position (the last two know me well enough to offer positive work and personal references).  It seemed to change the tone of the conversation, I think because it created context for me, changing me from a random prospective applicant to a person in an extended social network.

I did not, however, bring up the hit-and-run, because I could definitely not think of a way to make that conversation not awkward.  “Hi, my name’s Karyn, and I’m interested in the open position in your department.  You might remember meeting me this past spring, when someone hit your car and I reported it” doesn’t seem like the kind of coincidence I’m capable of bringing up sans awkwardness.