I've booked the travel for my late Nov, early Dec trip to the U.S. 
(No details, as I don't want to jinx my reason for going.)
I will be in:
Any bloggers out there in those areas, aside from Homer (I'll be shacking up with him a couple of nights), who might want to say hello in person?
I have been preparing many job applications over the past week. It's that time of year when the world falls in love...er, excuse me (it's an occupational hazard of being a former singer...there's always a song in one's head). Anyway, it's that time of year when most academic positions at American universities are announced. This seems to be an okay year, opportunity-wise, so I'm busy as a bee writing cover letters, putting together demo CDs and DVDs, ordering transcripts, requesting letters of recommendation, and spending hard-earned dollars on the printing, binding and mailing of application packets. With any luck, I will get some interviews.
I am ready to begin working earnestly in my field again, and having permanent residency now means I could ostensibly split my time between the two hemispheres. It wouldn't be an even split, but as there's nothing substantial at all in Australia for me job-wise (unless I change careers completely...a daunting prospect for someone who can see the light of 45 on the horizon), I have no alternative than to run for the gold in them thar' hills. Four months in Australia with professional fulfillment and a decent income is better than twelve months here sitting in this townhouse, eking out a living by working part-time over the Internet in a field completely unrelated to my education and training.
During this process of job hunting, I have naturally begun to daydream about where I might end up teaching and living. Currently, there are jobs open in areas of the US that I wouldn't mind checking out, eg, Chicago, Minneapolis, Pacific NW, and Southern California. There are also openings in central Missouri, Alabama, and North Carolina.
I grew up in Arkansas, so it's not like I have never lived in less-populated areas. I do worry, however, about the culture shock of moving from Sydney to the middle of the US and living in a town of about 30K people, miles and miles from any larger city. I try to take comfort in knowing that there's probably a regional airport within reach of most any city where there's a college or university.
I wonder if the fulfillment I would (hopefully) get from my work would be enough to quell the distress of being removed from my family and friends, and from the way of life to which I have grown accustomed over the past few years. It would no doubt be tremendously challenging, but after putting in so much work for the doctorate and the credentials it affords, it seems silly not to go for the jobs and at least give it a try.
So, I wonder what it will be...
Midwest Sandy
California Sandy
Country Sandy
Urban Sandy
[too scary to post]
Southern Sandy
Or shall I remain...
Sydney Sandy?
Time will tell...
"It turns out that the straight-male fear of reciprocal anal play is a potent mix of sexism and homophobia; a straight man can do it to someone else, but having it done to him isn’t okay."
Well, thank you Captain Obvious.
So a government-sanctioned report reveals that straight men love to ream the lemon. Big woo. Dig out the beer and
confetti. It also seems that these men are unwilling to admit they also like their lemons juiced, although the rocketing sales figures of the, um [clearing throat] ...lemme get this correct, "doctor-created, FDA-approved prostate stimulator" belie their silence. We're on to you and your papinani love, fellas.
Oh, by the way, you can see the above excerpt in its full context here. And, should you find yourself with some time and No-Doz at hand, you can read the report of the 2002 CDC Survey here. I was led to the article by the awesome Durbango. Read his poem. It's durbalicious. (Sorry, no permalink available
I guess one could look at this from two ends [giggle]. As DB points out, this penchant for booty encroaches on sacred territory where we homasessuals firmly planted our flagpoles [double giggle] centuries ago.
You could also see it as further Maple-Streeting of elements within gay culture. Not that there haven't been MonF (or dare I say it...FonM!) backdoor barbeques all along. I'm sure there were, but talk about your taboo topics. One by one, however, the bricks are getting knocked from the top of the wall. We can see you peekin' over, you molls!
The upshot: no, we're not going to share our stuff with y'all right now. Come back to us once you've earned that privilege.
Oh, another interesting tidbit I culled during my quick perusal of the CDC report: 90% of the men surveyed, aged from 15 to 44, identified as "heterosexual." That's not to say that all others answered "homosexual," because "bisexual" and "something else" [shiver] were also possible answers. Nearly 2% didn't answer the question at all. Regardless, there's that pesky 10% lifting its head again [pseudo-giggle], driving the conservatives mad. Pedal to the metal, baby.
The image in my crystal ball this morning
Rain, rain; here to stay,
We need it badly, so it's okay.
(Okay, Ezra Pound it ain't. I never professed to poetry.)
It's a 3-day weekend here in Australia. Monday is the Queen's Birthday, a public holiday. It's an interesting holiday, especially to a republican (that's small-r republican!) like me. Although Australia is still a Commonwealth country, they're fiercely independent people and often outspoken on the issue of ties to the monarchy. But they love the Queen's Birthday holiday, which unofficially marks the beginning of winter, much like Memorial Day signifies the beginning of summer in the U.S. I suppose we have one or two arguably meaningless holidays in the U.S., too. BUT, a holiday is a holiday, and we don't get enough of them full stop. At any rate, on Monday (which isn't really her birthday), we shall all raise a glass to:
Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, Queen of Australia and Her other Realms and Territories, Head of the Commonwealth.
We were supposed to go camping with Brad, Dean, Gabe, Cristian, and who knows whom else. But rain has finally come to New South Wales, and I mean a lot of rain...for days and days. Now I love these guys dearly, but I'm not keen to sit stranded in a muddy tent for two days. Uhn-uh. Not enough Ketel One in the Southern Hemisphere.
So Mark and I will ship Zane off to his mum's in Canberra and enjoy the warmth of our townhouse. It will be the first time we've had a couple of days to ourselves in a long time. Whatever will we do? Practice our signatures, watch White Chicks, trim each other's necklines. But no toenail painting. That's so yesterday. Feel free to submit ideas.
One of the first books I remember owning was Robert A. Heinlein's Orphans of the Sky. Not yet even a
teenager, I saw the book while trolling garage sales in suburban Wichita with my grandpa (the undisputed king of garage-saling). To be honest, I wasn't that into science fiction, but I was transfixed by the image on the dust jacket. I convinced Grandpa to cough up the requisite 10 cents. Unfortunately, it was over my head and I couldn't really find my way through it. Too bad it wasn't one of his juvenile novels. He wrote quite a few, including Red Planet and Starship Troopers.
Overall, Heinlein's works are remarkably forward thinking in some ways,
but in others they are scary in their social commentary. Heinlein was
certainly an interesting man, deeply interested in politics and social
philosophy. His works comprised what was, at the time, fairly
revolutionary and provocative concepts, such as eugenics,
libertarianism, freedom from gender stereotypes and free love.
A number of Heinlein's stories written between the 1940s and 60s are part of a series that deals with the concept of Future History...hence this topic's inclusion, albeit loose, in the Flashforward Friday series. Impressive in scope as Heinlein imagined it, Future History is the way Heinlein fictionalized humankind's existence from the 20th to the 23rd centuries. According to the chronology, it's a bumpy ride, and many suffered along the way. In the end, mankind and mutants begin to work together to achieve goals. Charles Xavier would have been proud.
And Heinlein had a couple of pretty cool houses that he and his wife, Virginia, designed themselves. 
Ever been to one of those job interviews where they ask you the world's most annoying interview question?
"Okay. Thanks for that remarkable display of self-absorption. We can tell you really want the job. Now let me ask you, where do you see yourself in five years?"
Interviewers should be punched in the neck for asking that.
I, on the other hand, feel it's completely justified in the arena of the blogosphere. So friendly readers, where do you see yourself in [nn] years? (I won't define the number. You can do that. Makes answering become more imaginative.)
I'll start:
Like the image? Check out Palmercash Tees.
It had been a while since I last visited this site. I thought it a fitting theme for Flashforward Friday, so I paid another visit and projected myself forward in time, as well as into another dimension or two.
Be afraid.
As I am currently
As I might be in an unspecified number of years (probably only 2 or 3, if I were still living in the Arizona desert.)
Wait, I think I am that blue-eyed missing link.
Meet Sandémon, Trainer-in-Waiting.
