...Back to it.
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44. AmShack:So, took the Amtrak train from Albany to Chicago overnight this weekend. Interesting experience. My seatmate was awesome, sweet, very curious, and effusively validated me when I immediately (upon learning she is from Korea) trotted out the approximately 8 Korean vocabulary words I know, replete with hand gestures. Things she did that were adorable: Referred to Hugo as "Hogo" for the duration of our trip (as you can imagine, Hugo came up relatively early on in our acquaintance, and Ran proved chattier even than me, despite a language barrier), accompanied me to purchase juice twice after saying "no thank you" when I asked if she'd like to (perhaps this falls more under the category of INEXPLICABLE rather than ADORABLE, but hey, I turned around, that kind of awkward swaying turn where you know you're oriented but the train is still mobile so you're a bit shifty, and there she was right on my heels, both times), and asked me to point out to her "coolest most fun best American cities she must go to now". Obvi, we've emailed already, and she's in San Francisco (by way of Denver-my recommendation over Salt Lake), and her camera contains at least six photos of us touching fingers. <--don't judge. It's what she does when she meets someone with whom she strikes up some sort of an extended conversation or relationship...adds it to her design website. I'd post it but it's ridiculously unflattering of me, and that's just it: it's only me. And her finger. Taken from her perspective, with our index fingers touching. Yeah: the E.T. reference was tooootally lost on her. Not her fault. She grew up in Seoul, not Minneapolis, I suppose.
* * * * *
45. Mark my words. . . 
This isn't about me; it's about Mark. But let's be clear on one thing before I begin what I hope will be a lovely testament to his character and gentle nature. MY STEPFATHER CAN BEAT UP YOUR HONOR STUDENT. The point is that he wouldn't; instead, he'd offer him guidance, patience and perhaps an ice cream cone, on him. In fact he's a licensed counselor and social worker, and is the dean of a school that caters to kids with severe disabilities: emotional, learning & behavior--generally a complicated combination thereof. --But get your own house in order, will you? Mark's a busy guy. But not so busy that he doesn't remember me each and every Valentine's Day. I love me some Mark. 
I love you, Mark!
...aka "Big Cat"
...aka "Manny", short for "Manual de Labor".
...aka "Marcus Aurelius Wallus Pantalones Grandes"
* * * * *
45. Vermont-el Williams:
My most recent trip to Vermont was a few things:
Categorically phenomenal because I was with Job.
Encouraging insofar as that I really not only underwent, completed, survived the job interviews, but actually really enjoyed the primary one, enough so that the downside is I remain apprehensive until they make their final decision. I suppose that's what happens when you're invested in something. Welcome to 3rd grade level psychological analytics: if you care, you're bound to be either rewarded more comprehensively, or more profoundly disappointed. Either way, the meetings were great opportunities to hone the skill (I despise self-help books on principle, not at all because I'm averse to the philosophy of self-help, but because I think for the most part they're penned by opportunists whose concern for others extends only so far, and not beyond, the book sales---so I hate to concede this, but interviewing well really is a skill) of interviewing, of familiarizing oneself with a company and its culture, as much as that can be accomplished in one afternoon. I've told a few friends, my mom and Job that this job though, even if it were in Chicago (previous knowledge of my intent to move to Vermont required here), would be a tremendous fit for me. So, I'm hopeful. And appreciative of anyone who wants to pray that the outcome'll be favorable.
Logistically a bit nightmarish.
Too short.
46. I am my father's......son (?). :-)
Job and I attended a VAAA in Burlington; the meeting is for about 200 professionals (or, wait, 198 and then Job and I?) and its purpose is to foster some communication and sustain relationships between various Vermont companies that are involved in the aviation and aerospace industries, but has some out of town delegates as well, people from any industry that has anything to do with the aviation-based projects underway: fascinating, actually, to see people from so many venues, like hospitality, government, medical companies, etc, stuff you might consider peripheral, but in the instance of building, say, a "flying hospital", there are components that are every bit as important as the actual plane and engine.
I was unaware that Brian (Dubie), by whose invitation Job and I were in attendance to 'network' and meet some folks in the Vermont business community, was planning to call me up to present a token of thanks to my dad. Unaware because a) Brian didn't tell me!; b) I was there as Lisa McNerney, former campaign employee for BD, and not as the daughter of the CEO of Boeing (though that cover was blown when Brian introduced me as just that, though he misspoke and called me "Mr. McNerney's son", which got a laugh); and c) I was NOT PREPARED to be photographed. We're talking sweatshirt, ill-fitting bra, minimal makeup, 'bloated jeans' (I'm sure you can deduce, brilliant readers, when these particular ones are worn--sorry to be explicit, but this is my blog :)...).
Brian is relentlessly kind, thoughtful, always generating ideas and has been immensely helpful as a mentor and very influential man in Vermont who genuinely cares about helping me obtain work out there. The least I could do was shuffle self-consciously up to the stage, accept the books--one for my dad, as it turns out Boeing donated a plane, and one for me, which BD labeled "required reading" (and if you're reading this, Brian, I AM reading my copy!!), and swallow my pride despite looking like garbage.
I do adore Brian; he has been so good to both Job and I, and we had so much fun at dinner with he and some of his family after the event. Net-net, a great day! Who knew it'd end over falafel with some impressive Air Force dude from Northrup Grumman?
47. What Goes Up Must Come Down (but,... this adorably?)
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