There was a cryptic line in that last post (“…more than just my vacation at stake…”) – well, cryptic if you haven’t spoken to me lately, at any rate. But I was trying to keep things under wraps so as not to jinx myself before I went. Apparently that worked, because I can now make the following announcement:
I got a job with the BBC.
It all happened lighting-quick: got a call from an old acquaintance during the last week of August. Was I interested in being considered for a position with the BBC? Um, yes. Yes I was. A few weeks later, a phone interview was scheduled. A few days after that, I got a call inviting me to London for a second interview. I spent most of the following week in a semi-daze. Partly, I just didn’t want to jinx myself by imagining all sorts of scenarios (largely revolving around me walking out onto a London street from my flat, getting on a train to White City to go to my job at the motherfucking BBC) – it just seemed like a fairy tale whenever I thought about it. It’s a huge cliché, but when and where could I ever have another chance to work with this level of content – both quantity and quality – and this kind of reach? It’s a real opportunity to make a difference for the public good, to use media to connect people with ideas. That’s what I wanted to do when I started out in the theatre all those years ago. I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine it as a reality.
And now it is.
So what are the details, I can hear you asking (talk louder, I can barely hear you over the crickets)? I’ll probably start work the 6th of December, which means I’ll be out of here at the end of November. I may or may not be back for Christmas and/or New Year’s. I’m planning trips to NYC/Boston and Memphis to say goodbye to some people and see some others get married. I’m doing a lot of celebrating, which could also be seen as training for my London lifestyle – I don’t know many people over there anymore, but all the people I know drink.
[People who are inclined to be irritated/sickened by sappy shit, you would do well to stop reading right about here. I take no responsibility for nausea or seizure caused by the uncharacteristically high sugar content of the following paragraph(s).]
So that’s the good news, and the bad news as well. I’m so thrilled this is happening that it still doesn’t seem quite real to me, but it’s going to be hard to leave Chicago. I’ve been here longer than I’ve ever been anywhere (10 years!), and my friends, at the risk of sounding all saccharine and kick-worthy, are truly some of the best people in the whole entire world. Who else would call me at 8 a.m. London time (2 a.m. in Chicago) to tell me they were doing shots at the bar to wish me luck? Who else would send texts every 6 hours or so, offering encouragement and support? Who else would offer me such award-worthy UK-specific interviewing tips? How can I leave the place where my life is chock full of these people? I’ll have to figure it out as I go. And bully y’all into coming to visit. Tickets are cheap in January and February, you know…
Thanks so much to all you fabulous folk. I owe you, big.