It turns out that it was actually a shindig for a bunch of LIS programs, and that each program was allocated a table. I did a swift search of the tables, and didn't see "Wayne State University", so, disheartened, I bought myself a beer, and helped myself to the cheese cubes, raw vegetables, and ranch dressing that was offered at the "buffet". I assumed I would be leaving immediately afterwards, to spend the night alone in my room, probably filling out job applications, when suddenly, who should I see standing across from me at the buffet as I went up for seconds? Karen B., WSU librarian! If anybody could have heard me over the dull roar of librarians slowly getting drunk, they would have heard a sigh of relief. It turns out that the WSU table was shoved off next to the wall, and had so many alumni crowded around it that I hadn't been able to see the sign. I saw Dean Yee, Carrie, Whitney, and Dr. Mika, and then Veronica rushed by, and suddenly, as if by magic, I was networking! People were asking me questions, and being shepherded over to me and introduced. I had much encouragement as to finding a job, although sadly nobody offered much in the way of opportunities.
Veronica essentially took responsibility for me for the remainder of the night, and as was the case during my practicum, I simply trailed after her and shook people's hands when they offered. We headed over to another party, this time with much better food and free champagne, so you can tell I hit paydirt. I think it was run by Germans, although I have no idea who the vendor was. They had deep-dish pizza, onion rings, curly fries, quesadillas, a pretzel stand (!!!), as well as some mystery dumplings that I ate because they were free. See, after routinely spending about $20 per meal in my hotel, any free food was welcome. They also had a sort of white chocolate tiramisu cake, which was really, really good. I also drank the champagne, which came in novelty flutes with the vendor's name etched into them. I now like champagne, although I still don't know who the vendor was.
After chatting with a medical librarian from D.C., Veronica, Carrie, a woman named Fran, and myself took a cab to the Art Institute. You see, another vendor was holding a reception there at 8:00 on a Sunday night. Which is totally cool, and more than a little weird, seeing a bunch of librarians carrying around free drinks and schmoozing in front of the Monets. Not all the galleries were open, but a significant number of them were, and I took the opportunity to work my way through them. Veronica's husband is an artist, so she did likewise, and we occasionally would talk about Duchamp or Rauschenberg. I had hoped to go there this weekend, but I certainly hadn't expected to get in that way.
Afterwards, the four of us made our way to a bar down the street to get more drinks and some food. Evidently the vendor that rented the art museum usually has extremely good desserts at its receptions, but they were all gone by the time we got there, so some of our party were still hungry. We talked for a while, sitting at the outside tables, until one of the employees came out to tell us that they were closing momentarily. We bid each other adieu, and they all wished me good luck, and I took a cab back to the hotel, satisfied in the knowledge that, in spite of my genetics, I had networked.
I never did make it to the library blogging shindig, although honestly, who would notice? It worked out fine, anyways.
Cut to: This Morning
After all the build-up of the San Diego interview, it ended up being very short. It wasn't a bad interview, it's just that the woman doing it said it was just meant as an informal thing, and that makes sense, given that they don't even have my application yet. She was actually rather encouraging, which was pleasant. She also told me real estate prices in San Diego, which was less so. But she told me that since we met at the conference, that if I got far enough to have a final interview, that it could be conducted over the phone, since we have met. So, like, bonus!
I made a pass around the exhibitions again, managing to snag three more galleys, including a Harlequin Romance (I mean, why the hell not? At least it's genre), but noticed that people were reticent to give them to me, since my badge indicated no affiliation with a library at all. I kept getting really suspicious looks from people. So eventually I packed up my swag and headed out.
But not before stopping by Quimby's, where I picked up:
- Ice Haven by Daniel Clowes
- Paul Moves Out by Michel Rabagliati
- Flaming Carrot #3
- Or Else #2 by Kevin Huizenga
- The Jackson 500 Volume 1 by Tim Biskup
And then I came home. Turns out while I was gone, my mom ended up on crutches due to her bum knee, my dad's eye pressure had been acting up, and it turns out they discovered my dad's stomach had become blocked, so he couldn't eat any solids. Apparently happens in 10% of gastric bypass patients. They had some sort of procedure for that today. I try to avoid asking too many questions.
Tomorrow: back to work. Which, y'know, sucks a bit. And then next weekend, a family reunion in Indiana. Me and my go-go life...
2 comments:
If you do have to come out to San Diego for an interview, let me know. And she wasn't exaggerating about the real estate prices. Absurd amounts are being paid for tiny houses.
I had no doubt about the real estate prices, especially when I saw what the starting salary was. It was a similar thing with the salaries at the San Fransisco Public Library. I actually suspected that the interviewer might be understating it, especially when she admitted that she hadn't been as conscious of, say, the cost of renting a one-room apartment since she bought a house with her husband a few years ago. But one tries to remain optimistic.
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