Dreams are a funny thing. Sometimes we remember them; sometimes we don’t; sometimes we dream in black and white; sometimes we dream in color. Sometimes they are pleasant; sometimes they are scary. Sometimes they repeat. People say that reoccurring dreams have some underlying meaning that perhaps our subconscious is trying to tell us something. My cousin dreams repeatedly that her teeth fallout in public (weird, I know). I have a reoccurring dream, too, and I often wake up going, huh, well that’s interesting…I’m up in front of a classroom of about 20 or more students; the seats are arranged in an L, and it’s the first day of classes. I’m dressed in dark denim and killer black boots chewing pink Bubblegum. Half-way through my introduction of the course something goes awry and the students go crazy—jumping on top of the desks, yelling and screaming horrible insults at one another—I try to yell above the noise only I can’t because the Bubblegum is caught in my teeth and almost choking me. I try and spit it out only it’s stuck, so I try using my fingers to pull it out but it’s not working because there is so much Bubblegum I can’t get it all out. I wake up every time in the middle of me trying to pull the gum out of my mouth. I’ve had the dream like 8 times. Now I don’t have a degree in psychology but if I had to venture a guess I’d say my subconscious is trying to say “don’t chew Bubblegum while teaching”—good thing I don’t chew Bubblegum only sugar free gum for me (doesn’t stick to the teeth!). Dreams are crazy beasts, and who knows what they really mean. I’ve been California dreamin’ for the last several nights in the heart of California: LA.
Hello, MLA. How do you do?
Ah, MLA that exclusive conference that we believe holds the key to our real-life dreams (I know I’m hoping and praying it does for me!). Real-life dreams seem to be a beast even more wicked and deathly alluring than the ones that only happen in our sleep. We all have dreams even if we can’t admit that we do—my mom has always said “dream big” and I have, so I have never once wanted to believe during this roller coaster process that I wouldn’t walk away with a job. I’ve wanted to be a professor since I was 15 (true story my sophomore English teacher asked me to write a research paper on what we wanted to be, so for me it was either a professor or a psychologist and obviously with my above nickel-and-dime diagnosis it’s a real good thing that didn’t work out!). So MLA was another step towards me attempting to make that dream come true.
Lists are a passion of mine—I make lists to make lists—so I thought the best way to describe MLA/LA is in an enumerated list-like fashion.
2 interviews: both of which went really well.
Face-2-face is great because of the obvious reasons, but honestly it really boils down to they are just more personal. I felt like the two schools knew me, and they alluded to this by specifically referring to things in my letter, vitae, writing sample, etc (which didn’t necessarily happen in my phone interviews). I knew my first interview was going to go well when I walked into the hotel room, and my interviewer was wearing brown, furry ankle boots that were at least 4 inches. Hello, woman after my own heart. We had coffee and wonderfully delicious blueberry muffins, and it felt more like an engaging conversation than an interview. The second interview was at the MLA hotel, and it too went well, but the feeling wasn’t as intimate because of the room it was conducted in. The majority of MLA interviews happen here in this huge room where there are row-upon-row of tables and chairs arranged for the different schools.
An interviewee must go sign in, get the number of their school’s table then wait until the interview time and go up. It looks very much like herding cattle, and although, it looks this way it didn’t feel this way--at least to me--probably because the school I interviewed with didn’t make me feel that way.5 airports: Due to a slight hiccup on the way to LA, I was re-routed from Atlanta to Memphis then to LA. It extended my trip by many (!) hours, but hey I was able to enjoy a bit of Memphis BBQ and walk into an Elvis shop.
Award for the best airport goes hands down to Detroit. So clean and open and just easy to maneuver (and I had a very tight connection only 30 minutes in which I was able to run to my concourse, grab a magazine and lunch). Ironically I was on five airplanes, but only sat next to one person. I don’t know how that happened, but it was awesome. Best trivia question on the Delta trivia pursuit game: Tallahassee is the capitol of which lower 48 state? No joke. 
15 (or more) ups-and-downs in the window elevator: Perhaps one of the best parts of the trip was the elevator in my hotel, and apparently an attraction for even those native to LA or so this random woman told me when we rode up and down three times just to go to the top and come back down again to watch LA from the view. It was a window elevator, and the woman told me she comes to just ride it at different points of the day (yah she was a bit unusual—she also asked if she could go to the MLA conference and said she wanted to because she had free parking that day so she needed to take advantage of all she could—ok not just unusual plain different). 1 near panic attack: Yes, only one, and it seriously almost happened right before my first interview. Here's what happened: I go to the hotel for my first interview really early to prep and get myself together. Plenty of time to get up to the hotel room on time. I go to the desk, call up and go to the elevators. I have ten minutes or so to get up there—no problem, right? Wrong. I get onto the elevator with woman, and she hits the button for the 14th floor. We go up the 14th floor the elevator stops…nothing happens. The doors do not open then without warning the elevator goes down to the 8th floor, back up to the 14th floor back, down to the 2nd floor, back up to the 14th floor. You get the picture. We rode the elevator up and down for almost eight minutes without the doors opening (and this elevator did NOT have windows). The woman at one point looked at me and giggled, “you know this is most people’s worst fears getting stuck in an elevator.” I almost slapped her. All I could think was I going to miss my interview because the elevator developed a split personality. Luckily, we eventually made it to the ground floor and the doors opened, and I ran (literally—thankgoodness for kitten heels!) so that I wouldn’t be late.
Things I did by myself—too many to count: Those that know me really well, know this is a huge deal for me. I am not someone that enjoys doings things by myself, and it’s much like a fear or phobia. I blame this on the fact that I was born a twin—growing up and for many years after I never (and I mean never) had to do things by myself because the twin was always with me (if you are not a twin or a multiple you probably don’t understand this. Even having a very close sibling is not the same. When I was in elementary school my mom wanted to separate us in school because she was afraid we would become too dependant on one another but the school district wouldn’t allow it and look what happened! Hello dependency.). Moving to Florida was one of the best things I could have done to overcome this, but it’s been a slow process. The first semester at FSU I had a conference in Springfield, IL. I flew to Ohio, so I could then drive eight hours with people I was presenting with just so I didn’t have to do things like check into a hotel by myself.
Oh the difference three years can make. I not only checked myself into the hotel, but I had lunch and dinner by myself; I did a walking tour of downtown by myself; I stayed in a giant hotel room by myself; and I actually had a great time in LA by myself. I walked to the Macy’s Plaza (I have a thing for Macy's) then I went to the downtown public library (huge!!!) then I walked to the Walt Disney Concert Hall, and I only got lost once and my handy dandy map on my DROID saved me. 
Needless to say I’m pretty darn proud of myself, and I realize those of you reading probably do not have this same phobia and probably are shaking your heads in disbelief that someone could have it, but all I can say is most people have a fear or phobia, so I wish you well getting over yours, just know I won’t make fun of whatever it is. ;-)All-in-all LA was a great success and not only because of my interviews. Dreams are funny beasts, and they have a funny way of being resolved/shaped in unexpected places and in unexpected ways. As my mom said to me even if I don’t get campus interviews (though I really hope I do!) LA was a personal accomplishment. Slightly sentimental, yes, but true.
And so, I have to conclude my MLA post with another singer/songwriter words about dreams—“You may say that I'm a dreamer/But I'm not the only one/I hope someday you'll join us.” Lennon always had such a way with words, and had such way of exposing the meaning of dreams.
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