There’s always something to howl about.

Thanks a lot, Glenn Kelman.

Dear Industry Professional:

Kris Berg will be on vacation the week of April 2nd. Accordingly, any industry news of interest or import should be released during this time. We also advise that, where appropriate, you notify her in advance of any press releases (preferably while she is enroute to the airport for a four-hour flight) to ensure that she is fully informed yet unable to do a damn thing about it.

So it was that I knew about the Refin Consumer’s Bill of Rights and didn’t know about the Zillow changes. Either way, I spent the entire discussion somewhere between baggage claim and rental car hell. A week is a long time at the Bloodhound (about four pages) and, while I have so much I would like to say on both fronts, it has all been said. As my journalist-wannabe-daughter would put it, I’ve been scooped. Even Russell Shaw made sure he shared his secrets to getting the listing with everyone… but me. I was otherwise indisposed, discussing the fine art of cow tipping with my children in the middle of Missouri.

Don’t get me wrong; I am a trained professional. I schlepped my laptop through three airports and three hotels with the best of intentions. I foolishly envisioned quiet mornings reporting from the field (and I do mean “field”), but found myself lacking the necessary inspiration when seated in the Marriott Courtyard Business Center next to an eight-year-old playing “Dress Barbie” on her Internet connection.

Ah, Spring Break! Next year, it’s Cancun. This year, it was the frozen Tundra. Did you know that a professional baseball game can be canceled due to “cold”? It happened in Chicago. Did you know that it can be sunny, with not a cloud in the sky, and yet snow? Yep. The average Kris Berg Vacation Temperature was 200 degrees below zero. It was closer to 250 degrees below (not counting wind chill) when we found ourselves waiting on the street for what seemed like three months to gain admittance to the Art Institute of Chicago Museum. I saw American Gothic, but most importantly, it was WARM inside. I would have gladly paid twice the price ($1,387.50) to see the 20th Century Stick Figure exhibit just to enjoy their forced air heating.

And here is the funny thing, the thing to which every serious real estate agent can relate. Even when I am not working, I am working. You can take a girl out of her farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl. In Columbia, Missouri, a woman was telling me how a Remax agent “gave a very nice” presentation to her office on the town’s growth areas. My reaction? Competitive angst. I should have been the one getting that marketing exposure. I overheard another woman at the Wi-Fi station at O’Hare (I just never give up!) telling someone on the phone that she was about to accept an offer on her home and was off to purchase a new property. My logical instinct was to beat her senseless. At a minimum, I was extremely annoyed. Forgetting for a moment that she probably hailed from rural Kansas, I should have gotten that listing! But maybe, I thought, it wasn’t too late to offer to represent her on the buy-side.

Real estate is not a career as much as it is a lifestyle. Driving to Evanston, Steve and I would point out every yard sign on the route and wonder what market times were like. It’s a sickness.

When we flew into San Diego, it was overcast and cool. Sixty degrees never felt so balmy. It’s good to be back to the farm. Oh, and while I was away, Teri even got her Blog on. Nice puppy!