For those just tuning in, read the entry directly below this one first for the sake of clarity.

So, earlier today, D. calls and asks if I’ve had a chance to check my e-mail. (Again, unexpected; we had talked for almost three hours last night.) Umm, no; so I pulled out my trusty little iBook and logged into the house network.

University of Colorado Health Sciences Center sent him a “we want you to come look at our PhD program!” invitation.

Again, more background is needed: a well-known university back east whose name I will not mention (but which rhymes with Rons Bopkins) sent a very similar “let us wine and dine you so we can see if we’re mutually compatible” invitation to him two years ago. After wining, dining, and forming what seemed to be a mutually good impression, they said “thanks, but no thanks”. I had a front-row seat for that particular emotional roller coaster; he had many reasons for wanting to go there, starting with the fact that it’s a damned good school, and he would have been entering directly in to their PhD program. The other reasons were equally valid, but intensely personal, so I won’t mention them here; just take it as given that the rejection letter was equal to a well-aimed gut punch, and leave it at that.

Two years and a really traumatic move later (did I mention that he had a broken leg at the time?), he gets this invitation from a school that he could have applied to two years ago, and saved a whole lot of heartache.

For the record, that’s essentially a transcription of him being Gloomy and Russian; the views expressed by the Grad Student do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this blogger, et cetera. The bioinformatics program at University of Colorado was in its infancy two years ago; he could not have gotten the education that he felt he needed from the program at that point, and I supported his decision to go somewhere that would best serve his needs. Whether that was Baltimore or Minneapolis, it didn’t matter; the CU-HSC was not where he needed to be, and that was that.

The program really appears to have gotten its collective act together in the intervening span; they’ve got a good balance of faculty, and the curriculum seems to be reasonably sound. And again, he has reasons to find the idea of a PhD bearing the name University of Colorado rather appealing -- personal ones, but very real.

There are several things to consider, though, that have nothing to do with wants and wishes; hard, cold, practical matters that won’t allow themselves to be ignored. Moving is expensive, to start with; moving up there was costly, moving back would be no less so, and make it borderline impossible to buy property. (Of course, this would probably apply to anywhere other than Minneapolis or Chicago; Columbus is just far enough away to make U-Haul look like a nightmare.) CU’s program has come along way, but it’s still not as well established as the other schools to which he has applied. There’s the issue of how much of a stipend they’re willing to free up, and what they would require as far as TA and RA duties.

On the other hand, Denver is Home, and this place has been calling him back ever since he left. He has never stopped being homesick for the place where the streets know his name. When he got out of the Air Force, he moved back and was determined to never leave again, but life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. He has contacts in both the math and computer science departments who could probably be counted on to put in a good word for him. And there’s the obvious appeal of spending a two or three more years in the rodina before taking up the life of the academic gypsy.

On the third hand (he commented that he needs as many hands as Kali for this discussion, at which I told him to get out of my brain, because I was thinking the same thing) ...he really doesn’t want to leave Minneapolis. It’s a good school, and even when he’s whining about the work load, he admits that he is getting the education that he wanted from it. He loves the city -- not in the same way as Denver; Denver is Home, but Minneapolis could become a home -- and he knows that I have come to love it as well. Financially, Minneapolis makes the most sense; moving expenses would largely be limited to a small truck, beer and other beverages, and pizza for those who were helping out. The housing market is starting to come down a bit, we have a good support network, and did I mention the fact that we both really like the city?

Plus, there’s the uncomfortable feeling that he’s backtracking. He could have applied to CU two years ago and avoided a lot of grief, or so those insidious little voices that make introspective people’s lives uncomfortable keep telling him. He wasted time. He’s backtracking. Things like that. I, of course, could not allow that to go unaddressed, and said “if you go to the grocery and buy a piece of fruit that you like, but it’s not ripe yet, it isn’t backtracking to put it on the counter for a couple of days until it’s ready.” He liked that analogy, and countered “And, in the meantime, you still have to eat something.” I don’t expect the ugly little voice to shut up quite this quickly, but at least I could get to to pipe down for a while.

All in all, though ...Minneapolis. It’s a good place, and one where we both feel very at home. Of course, it isn’t up to him; it’s up to the Admissions Committee, and the fact that the professor for whom he works is on the committee doesn’t make a difference. His professor is not That Kind of Guy. D's application will be given no more favorable consideration than anyone else's -- laudable in principle, but kind of annoying in practice. And since I'm not the sort of person to send off e-mails saying things like "do you know how many hours he spent coding on that ^$ project of yours yesterday?", we're pretty much stuck with crossing our fingers and gritting our teeth.

However, all of this falls under the heading of “long term planning”; today’s issue was far more immediate. Logistics for the CU-HSC recruitment thing.

His proposal was that I fly up just before he had to come down for the interview weekend, take care of Maggie Waggy, stay until Spring Break, and the two of us (three, if you count the pup) drive back down to Denver -- which translates to him driving and me handling Maggie, as well as food and beverage distribution. Map wrangling isn't necessary; he's made the trip many times before, and it's impossible to get lost in Nebraska. There's nowhere to go.

It sounds like a wonderful idea; however, my id and superego are about to come to blows over it, while my ego stands there going “I am so not getting in the middle of that.” The reason for this emotional donnybrook is that there are a couple of craft shows that look like good prospects for me, and they fall right smack in the middle of this timeframe.

I managed to make a decent amount last year, despite the fractured nature of my schedule. I only did two shows that weren’t my usual Friday “set up at the Cafe and see what happens”. This tells me that I’m building some necessary momentum, and now is the time to get more aggressive about booking as many events as I can. I want to get my trademark, and my website, and be able to take my act on the road in a much broader sense. All of that requires money, though, and that means getting myself out to more events where people are going to be interested in spending it. Preferrably on me.

I know that I won’t be letting him down by telling him no, and he has already told me that I shouldn’t feel guilty about doing so if that’s what I feel is necessary. He knows me well enough to know that it's not going to work that way, but form requires us to say it to the other. It’s just that I dislike being pinned between desire and necessity. I want to spend the time with him. I always want to spend time with him; we’ve known one another for almost 20 years and have never tired of one another’s company. I just can’t be in two places at once, though, and it hurts that I have to choose between fulfilling an immediate want and doing what is best for my business, myself, and Us in the long run.

I know what I’m going to have to say, and I’m already disliking the saying of it.

Either way, we will see each other before the end of February, and either I’ll be flying up for break, or he’ll drive down. Or possibly, I’ll end up driving up, as I have not had the best of luck flying out of DIA lately.

Why can’t we just get to a point where the biggest decision that we have to make is whose turn it is to do the dishes?