Here's something pretty cool: I applied for a new job. I went through all of the steps. I wrote a cover letter, updated my resume, did a fifteen-minute screening call and then a one-hour in-person committee interview. After that, I became a finalist, and I did a full-day candidate visit complete with two demo lessons with real kids. There were also six interviews with real adults.

Isn't that a lot?

I'm lucky because at the end of it all, I got picked for the job. I think you're supposed to play it cool on the offer call and say you need some time to think about it, but I didn't do that. I basically interrupted my new supervisor to yell, "I'M THRILLED, AND I'M TAKING IT!"

The whole thing was for an internal transfer position at my same fantastic independent school, and here's the deal:

Beginning next fall, instead of teaching sixth and seventh grades, I'm going to teach third grade. Third grade! In a self-contained classroom where I can work on empathy and community and global competence all day long while also thinking about all the core subjects plus social and emotional coaching! Further, I'm going to handle walking in lines and distributing snack!

Lucky for me, someone I know and love a lot has expertly taught third grade for years. I called Lee. She totally coached me, you guys. She made me feel like I could do it. When I got the job, she said, "Welcome to Thirdland," and I felt like I was 100% on the team.

I think it might be the best thing ever.

Here's a picture of me practicing for tonight's show. My lip might be curling in an unattractive way. Photo Credit: Ann Marie Photography The lip curl is obviously not her fault.

In a few hours, I'll be reading a story called "Labor and Reunion" in a show called Listen to Your Mother. I wrote the story myself. It's a true one about being an adopted person and having two mothers. It's also about giving birth and being a mother myself.

That sounds like a lot, but my part only runs 4 minutes and 45 seconds, so there's no need to panic about length. And, I included a few marginally funny jokes. If you go to the show, please laugh in the appropriate places. You'll be able to tell, I think, that I tried for humor.

Of course, I'm nervous. Here are some particular fears:

• That I'll trip on the way to the stage, need to catch myself, and shove my butt toward the audience in an awkward way.
• That I'll choke on my spit.
• That my bra strap will fall down.
• That I'll lose my spot on the page and need to tell the large audience to "hold please."
• That the audience will be weirdly silent without any laughter or reaction at all. This has happened to me before at a Back-to-School Night, and it's unpleasant.

I've been super into this podcast called Happier in Hollywood. On it, two tv writers and life-long friends discuss their work, friendship, and "the war of attrition that's life in Los Angeles." I feel like these gals are basically my best friends.

By some miracle, KK and I escaped the winter hellscape of Minneapolis and landed in New Orleans where we're participating in a Global Symposium for independent school professionals.

I have to say, it was sort of surreal taxiing down the ice-encrusted runway on Sunday in Minneapolis. I kept thinking we'd turn back toward the terminal. The snow kept falling. The previous day's flights had been widely canceled. We'd have to bag our talk about global competence and trot it out another time in another venue.

But no! Miraculously we de-iced, we took off, and we landed. We made our way to the French Quarter and checked into the Sheraton. Truth be told, we had a heck of a lot of work to do on our talk, so we haven't seen as many sites as we might have liked. But here's what we have done:

• Had a Pimm's cup in a corner café.
• Walked into the smallest bookstore I've ever seen.
• Enjoyed some street performers, including some sweet electric violinists.
• Strolled down Royal and Chartres and Decatur
• Ate blue crab rolls, barbequed shrimp, pralines, red beans and rice, sweet potato gnocchi, praline bread pudding, and beignets.

Not too long ago, the kids and I went to watch a friend of Shef's play in a high-level, high-stakes hockey game. It was really fun, and I especially liked how they blasted clips of classic songs like 1989's "Move This" by Technotronic before face-offs.

I got to thinking, I should take the kids to more school sporting events. We could wear our colors and root for the teams! Sounds wholesome and screen-free! I shared my epiphany with Shef, who is now fourteen years old.

"Hey," I said, "wouldn't it be fun to go to more school sporting events?"

"No," he said. The answer came swiftly and with zero hesitation.

"No?" I asked, surprised. "You don't want to watch your friends play lacrosse and stuff?"

"No," he clarified, "I just don't want to be seen with you in public."

Just like that! All matter-of-fact!

I think the inclination is probably exacerbated because I'm a teacher at the school, in addition to also being a regularly ignominious parent. Having a teacher mom is literally the worst thing ever for an eighth-grader, Shef says. I can't help that it's my job, though, and I also can't help that I'm so embarrassing. I feel I could be even more embarrassing if I didn't already put so much effort into my behavior. Shef doesn't know how lucky he is. One little slip and he could be the laughing stock of the entire school.

This is Mac, the only snowboarder in the family.

Skiing:

I love the free feeling of whizzing down the mountain, stopping frequently for breaks and 100% controlling my speed. I'd say my ski level is stagnant compared to other years. Why try to get better at a dangerous sport at 40? Seems like not such a great idea, especially when I can just, like, have fun and look sort of like I know what I'm doing. Or at least look like I'm not a danger to others.

Altitude Sickness:

It appears that one person in our party might have some mild to moderate altitude sickness. It's better not to google this, but instead to consult a mountain medical professional. That's on the docket for today. Luckily, in the limited medical research I did do, professionals say that altitude sickness generally resolves in short order. We should be on the other side of this in no time.

Reading:

I've got two perfect vacation titles on the go. One is The Widow by Fiona Barton. I love a good psychological thriller, especially on vacay. In this one, there's this feeble woman named Jean who married a veritable asshole who may also be a criminal. The blurbs all tell me I'm in it with an unreliable narrator, so things could turn any second.

The second book is America's Next Reality Star by Laura Heffernan. It's about Jen. She's suddenly jobless, boyfriendless, and broke. Why not go on a reality television show about puzzles and problem-solving? As you can imagine, the pages are flying by here. Reality television has long been my kryptonite.

That's about it. I'm hoping the second of these three items resolves today. Don't you?