There's a slug in my tub.

"Home is where your history begins. Home is where they catch you when you fall." ~Where the Heart Is

A couple of weeks ago when I heard about two job openings...one in Wilmington and one in Charlotte...I thought, "Surely this is meant to be." I want to move home. I've been in CA for about 5 years now, I've been almost everywhere there is to go and I've done almost everything there is to do...Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, the Muir Woods, San Francisco, Sausalito, Monterrey, Nappa, Sonoma, Santa Cruz, San Jose, Oakland, L.A., Vegas, San Diego, Mexico and a bunch of places in between. I used to spend my weekends taking off to a new town, a new tourist attraction, in search of discovery in the wild west. After a while, the trips became less and less frequent. The weekend adventures turned into house-cleaning, errand running, domestic duty obligations.

I don't need to live in Northern California to stay home and vacuum my living room. I can do that anywhere.

Anyways, two jobs...both in North Carolina. My parents live in Charlotte. My brother lives in Wilmington. My mom and dad went so far as to say they'd buy me a house if I moved home. That's a pretty enticing offer and it certainly sweetened the deal a little. I think they just really wanted a ready-made house/pet sitter for when they jet off to Europe, or they legitimately want me back in NC that badly...either way, Charlotte was my first choice. Not to mention, three of my really good friends from growing up live there now...two members of the posse and one of my college roommates.

Then there was Wilmington. The sleepy little town that I couldn't wait to move away from. I swore it was too small and restrictive...I needed much more space for my overstated, larger-than-life ideas to roam free. I lived in Wilmington from 3rd-8th grade and then moved about 15 miles north to a little town called Hampstead for highschool. I left that area when I was 18 so it's been 10 years since I've spent any significant amounts of time there. The idea of moving back made me a little apprehensive. It's changed so much Had the town I couldn't wait to escape from years ago forgotten about me as well? Still, I found excitement in the prospect of reconnecting with old friends, and making some new...rediscovering the place I called home once upon a time.

So needless to say, the stage was set. Two jobs in two places I could see myself living...two jobs doing what I know I'm good at doing. It seemed (almost) perfect, like it was divine timing intervening to lead me back east.

Now let me state my disclaimer for the record: I knew I wasn't guaranteed one of the jobs...I'm not owed anything nor do I think that just because I have family in NC, the two potential employers should look more favorably upon me...however...I really felt like at least one of them was going to pan out. Not to toot my own horn, but when it comes to radio I know what I'm doing. I've done mornings, middays, I've been a music director, news/traffic reporter, I know production, Selector, how to write compliance letters, can do PSA's, I get good numbers and as long as you don't make derogatory religious comments, I tend to get along with everyone.

Well, this has all been a lot of build up to letting you know that I didn't get either job. And to add insult to injury, I found out that I had been passed over for both jobs on the same day. Listen, the job in Charlotte went to a girl who is more than qualified to do the job. She's worked in Philadelphia (market #8) and Portland (market #23). Her name is Kelly, she starts November 30th and I'm sure she's great. I don't know these things because I've stalked her, by the way...it was published on All Access (a website for radio people). So the job in Charlotte, the one I really wanted, went to someone else...but at least I lost to someone who's good...scratch that...better than me. I can accept defeat when it comes by way of someone with more experience.

The job in Wilmington is the one that really stung; like a Portuguese Man o' War. The girl they put on the morning show is nothing short of the equivalent of 10,000 nails on a chalkboard plus ten nasal New Jersey crack whores in a verbal smackdown mixed with fog horns and a thousand alley cats in heat. Their show should now come with a warning: Caution, listening to this show will make your ears bleed. I mean, maybe she's not that bad...I just know that when I was home about a month ago for Greta's wedding I heard her do a live break from a club and I thought it was a joke. Now she's on the morning show. But she's 20-years-old and has blonde hair...shocker.

So no moving home for me...at least, not yet. I'm trying to look at the bright side, the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. I mean, I get to go see Twilight New Moon on Wednesday night, which doesn't open in theaters until Friday. That's kind of exciting...I guess.

Other than that, I can't think of much else to tell you besides that it's really cold this morning.

Also, there was a slug in my tub this morning.