a short phone call from california.

It was supposed to be the next big step. It was supposed to be the bridge to somewhere else. It was supposed to be one of the grand adventures of my youth.

It is none of those things.

I am an "alternate"--meaning that at some point, if someone breaks a leg or just drops out, and if another alternate isn't called in first, I might get an invitation. At which point I'm supposed to drop everything, order all my gear on a moment's notice, and show up? I guess it's possible.

But really, it's just a way of saying, we liked you, we sort of wanted you, but we wanted other applicants more.

So now, of course, come the mental gymnastics, in which I try to figure out where my application was weak, what unimpressive thing I said or experience I didn't have. And of course, I don't know.

I'm just disappointed.