Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want...

My interview in NYC went well. Really well. Extremely well. I have never felt so immediately comfortable and confident in an interview before. I really liked the people, I'm a perfect match for this place, I think I got it across quite adeptly, and I think they really liked me and were impressed.

Which means, of course, that I probably won't get a callback. Seems to be my general track record so far. They will be asking a few people to come back in a week or so, and would like to make an offer to someone by Christmas. Holy Mary Mother of God, talk about the perfect present. (Again, screw God, this would be all me.) I'm going to try not to get my hopes up, but everything was just so perfect. The building and offices were beautiful, the location is awesome, and when I get rejected I am simply going to have to jump off a cliff.

Sigh.

In a totally unrelated aside, I'm watching Dirty Dancing for the 1,406,395th time right now because when certain movies are on TV, no matter what time of the day or night, and you can watch them, you must watch them, even if you own the DVD. (Others must-watch flicks include: Bring It On, Speed, The Shawshank Redemption, and The Notebook.)

Anyway, I remember when I used to watch Dirty Dancing when I was young (my parents never gave a shit about what we watched, bless their hearts) I didn't really understand that Penny needed an abortion. I knew there was something wrong with her, that some bad doctor hurt her and she was sick, but I never got this central portion of the movie. Maybe because they never use the word "abortion." Or, maybe because even at 8 years old I was focused solely on how hot Patrick Swayze is in this movie.

Oh no, it's the dancing in the bedroom scene. I must give it my full attention.