Quick Update & Recommendation

Almost in the clear for Memorial Day weekend! I might be getting a visit from my family this weekend, which would be lovely. I'm looking forward to relaxing, maybe getting some sun if these thunderstorms mercifully hold off.
So, I may have some potentially big news next week, but I'm holding off on talking or typing about it just yet. Trust me, if this happens, I will be shouting it from the proverbial rooftops - not my actual rooftop because a) it's locked and b) there's a scary note from my landlord saying if you're found on the roof you have to pay $1000 and have the cops called on you. Not worth it.
In the meantime, if any of you readers have a spare couple of minutes, you should really read the Joan Rivers feature in last week's New York magazine. I am a little biased because she is a Barnard woman, and I've seen her in person (equal parts scary and fabulous), but I think the article is really great and gives humanity to someone most people think of very one dimensionally. Let me know what you think!

Gate 74

Disclaimer: This is in no way a finished product. Just a direction I want to go in. And, yes, I know I shouldn't end sentences in prepositions.

There is a specific sort of full-body shudder I get when I see children lick the floor of the Port Authority, Gate 74 to be exact. Gate 74, service to Wilmington and Baltimore, is on the bottom floor of the terminal, the very bowels of the Earth. This is where I go to get out of New York, a place I banked on loving but now escape from whenever possible.
My parents, also assuming that I would be enamored of city life, were not prepared for my weekly trips home, so I am forced to take the Greyhound bus instead of the more civilized and expensive train. I learned quickly that, in the world of the bus terminal, there are all sorts of rules that don't apply to other forms of transportation. Trains leave at the scheduled departure time, never before, and, if you arrive ten minutes early, you can leisurely walk from platform to train, find a compartment for your luggage, perhaps get some sort of drink in the cafe car, and settle in to your ample seat, all with minutes to spare. This is not so in bus travel.
When taking a bus, it is necessary to be at the gate 30 minutes early. I cannot emphasize this enough. The bus may leave ten minutes before or an hour after it is scheduled. These so-called departure times are nothing more than flimsy estimates, and should not be taken seriously. Add in the time it takes to get to Midtown West from my NYU dorm in the East Village with this sort of time allowance, and this becomes a pretty major operation.
This is my first year at NYU, Tisch School of the Arts specifically, but I hate it when people just say they go to Tisch and then accompany it with this smug smile, as if you should suddenly act grateful to be in their general vicinity. I'm here to study acting. I should feel really lucky to be at such a good school for drama, but it seems like the only thing people go to Tisch for is musical theater. I am surrounded daily by people who have deep, undying love for musical theater, and who are just bursting to talk, sing, and gesticulate wildly about it to anyone who will listen. I have little to no interest in or patience for this.
Sure, there are some basic, resume-caliber details about me that might make it seem like I belong here. Studying drama is an obvious one. I wear a lot of black, like the Smiths and Vampire Weekend in equal measure, and my name is Ingrid, which, I guess is artsy and quirky enough to make sense. I just don't think I can envision myself at a school where people sing showtunes to each other before taking shots of cheap vodka at apartment parties.
So, instead, I spend my Friday nights at Gate 74 waiting for the bus back to my parents' house in Wilmington, Delaware, a place people never seem to tire of mocking. I see it as the last hurdle I have to clear before my weekends of escape, although it would be a lot easier to take if I didn't have to watch that man in the corner cough blood into a cup in between bites of fried chicken.

Post-Game

So, not to keep you in suspense any longer, I think my interview yesterday went well. I met with the Deputy Publisher of Foreign Affairs, who was really great, so smart, and the sort of person I could see learning a lot from. Basically, I love everything about this job, especially the fact that preparing for the interview has taught me that I am probably more interested in the business end of things than the creative - as far as publishing goes. In any event, the opportunity to work for this sort of magazine is rare and exciting. I'm waiting with bated breath to see if I get called back for the second round.
In other news, I've decided to commence on a new creative project. I'm going to set out on writing a series of stories that travel from Wilmington, Delaware to New York and back (probably a couple of times). This all started with my overwhelming desire to write a story about the Port Authority, which I believe to be unique in its nausea-inducing hellishness. There's so much opportunity for great description there. Ideally, I want there to be some character in the previous story that overlaps into the next, a bit of narrator continuity, so we'll see how this goes. I'm hoping to post some sort of draft of a new one each week (ambitious, I know, but I've got to start somewhere).
I'm pretty peeved because I had a significant outline of the first story I wanted to write in a notebook that I'm pretty sure I left in the Pain Quotidien near Bryant Park. In any event, it is now gone, which is very unusual because I've never let one of my notebooks out of my sight before and this one was chock full of important things. Oh well, I'm sure someone at Pain Quotidien is having a laugh reading it as I type this (or I'll find it tonight underneath a pile of sweaters or something). So, tomorrow: musings on the post-apocalyptic mess that is the Port Authority Bus Terminal. I'm sick of writing being an afterthought of this blog, since I've always intended for it to be one of the centerpieces.
Lastly, my two week temp job will wrap up on Friday, and I'm trying to figure out what my next move should be. While the temp agency is always an option, I am thinking of getting a job in a restaurant near my apartment. Or maybe a wine bar (Can you imagine? Working in a wine store by day and a wine bar by night?). For the next couple of days after this job, I'm going to wander the streets looking for places. From the time I started writing this, I already have two interviews set up for next week, so it might be good to have more days free. I won't lie, part of being a waitress and having my days free appeals to me. The other part of it feels a little stale. I'll compromise, I guess. Or I'll get a job and not have to wait tables! Oh, impossible dreams...

(Not So) Lazy Sunday

I was very not lazy today. My day was all about wine stores and foreign policy. Quite the combination.
I spent the morning running around the Upper East Side on a double edged mission: to visit the wine stores on my list and find a newsstand that sold Foreign Affairs, which was actually much more complicated than I anticipated.
I made some significant headway in the wine store arena. While I keep (probably annoyingly) pestering Sherry Lehman and Italian Wine Merchants, they aren't hiring yet, so I've set my sights on a couple of less prestigious but still comprehensive stores. One is Union Square Wines and the second is ABC Wine Company, in Alphabet City. I found out about ABC through the owner's blog, East Village Wine Geek, which is really informative and funny. I met with the managers at both places and gave them my resume, so there's a chance (fingers crossed) that something will pull through soon. In the meantime, there are inevitably more stores to visit, but I needed to donate a significant amount of my day to interview prep.
As I mentioned before, I've been feeling less than confident about this job (Publishing Associate at Foreign Affairs), due mostly to the concentration of rejection I've gotten in the past month and also to the fact that this job is outside my immediate comfort zone. However, that's what branching out is all about, right? In any event, I felt less than qualified, which is silly since they wouldn't waste their time interviewing me if I weren't. Suffice it to say, I was a little worried that I wasn't going to be able to go in guns blazing tomorrow. And, like most people, when I'm not feeling comfortable, it shows. A lot. Not exactly the best mindset pre-job interview.
However, today I discovered that knowledge is power. I bought Foreign Affairs and Foreign Policy Magazine, revisited my experience with online marketing and social media, had a long and very helpful discussion with my beloved CFR insider, visited possibly every link on the Foreign Affairs website, and (several hours later) felt exponentially better about everything.
I feel as if I have a handle on the magazine's approach to social media, and I see places where they could improve their connection to their online readers, create more of a community, which they could then use to market in a more tailored way to those readers - the ultimate goal in social networking for any business. Basically, it's gotten me so excited about this interview. Working for a non-partisan, foreign affairs-focused magazine isn't what I anticipated when I graduated from school, but this opportunity is honestly the one that I've been the most excited about in months. I'm beginning to realize (a little late, maybe) that I never really felt passionate about book publishing. It's just always what I thought I should do, what I had internship experience in, etc. I love to write. I love to read about books and authors and everything publishing-related, but that definitely doesn't mean I should work in publishing. If anything, it probably means I shouldn't.
Plus, listening to the podcasts, round tables, and just reading the articles and mission statement of Foreign Affairs has me so beyond excited. The thought of working with such intelligent, driven, and forward-thinking people is incredible. Plus, while I (admittedly) am no expert in international relations, the research I have done is fascinating, and the prospect of publishing essays and commentary by major players in the world is obviously pretty amazing.
So, my Sunday was the opposite of lazy, basically. I'm going to go write, like, 8 more outlines of points I want to hit tomorrow (I get a little obsessive), and go to bed.
Send me good, lucky vibes tomorrow!

For some added entertainment, I give you the inspiration for the title of this entry:

NYC was pretty today

And I got to experience a little bit of it! En route to some post-work decompression, I sauntered down 17th street from Park to 8th Avenue.



I've been feeling a little down lately, I must admit. While optimism is the name of my game, as I think it needs to be if you're 22 (almost 23. Yikes.) and this is the only job market you've ever known, it's tough to realize that I graduated from Barnard one year ago yesterday. While I personally think I've worked hard and learned a great deal, it's difficult because I feel I have very little that's tangible to show for it. There have been moments in the past couple of days when I've felt like it might be impossible for me to get a job (with all the interviews, no offers, etc), which is a very disheartening and ridiculous thing to think, I know. It's also a potentially dangerous mindset to be in, considering my interview at CFR on Monday. My confidence needs to absolutely be at its height, but there's a more than faint voice in my head telling me I'm not qualified for the job, which has never happened before. This is ridiculous for a lot of reasons - the first and only real one being that CFR has chosen to interview me, which they would not do if I weren't qualified (plus my spy there told me that they received thousands of resumes - a little necessary self-congratulation).
I'm not sure why, since I've obviously received plentiful rejections from Publishing houses before, but this latest one has really affected me. It's the first time one of my mentors or contacts has interviewed me for a job, so that sort of experience is new, I guess. Whatever the reason, I'm a bit shaken, so I have decided that I need to get (even more) proactive, as my parents would say. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
This weekend shall be Francesca's Weekend of Wine Stores. While I've been somewhat sporadically pursuing different places, concerned about prestige or selection or location up until now, I am going to hit the pavement this weekend, resumes in hand, and, I hope, have a second job by Sunday night. I'll chronicle the journey here to make sure I stay on my toes (and that I actually do it). Who knows, maybe I'll taste some good things along the way. After all, drinking on the job is one of the fringe benefits of this operation.
Oh, and, yes, I realize I need to write something, at the risk of sounding like a non-productive broken record. I will. Tomorrow. I swear.

I love this woman

I cried while watching this. No joke.

*Also, I particularly enjoy that her lenses are Barnard Blue. Go, Meryl!

Rollercoaster Day

Oh man. Today was all over the place. The weather was gross, and my temp job, while running along smoothly, was epically slow and boring today.
While at work, I got an email telling me I didn't get the publishing job I interviewed for last week. It was the same explanation I've gotten dozens of times...the job has been offered to another candidate, but I was a top contender. I have a great resume, they really enjoyed meeting me, sure I'll find something great...blah blah.
I sound bitter, I know, but I feel like there's only so much more of this I can take right now. Which is probably why it's good that I'm branching out to other areas. Definitely enough publishing attempts for a while.
So, I was really upset. It was torrentially raining. I forgot an umbrella. It was cold and I was drenched. I sat down on the bus and there was a leak in the roof that was dripping directly on my head. Then, I got an email from the Council on Foreign Relations asking me to come in and interview next week. Hope springs eternal, I guess.

So, I know I said I'd write tonight, but tomorrow I will. That's a promise.

In Which I Get A Free Lunch

I commence this blog from the investment firm from which I shall temp for the next two weeks. Although I work a little longer (8:30-5:30) and for less money per hour, the amount I will save on coffee alone makes it worth it. Well, not really, but the free lunch, drinks, etc in the swanky offices will definitely make life a little easier.
Just returned from a nice, relaxing weekend at home, and I'm liking the fact that, since this new assignment is just for two weeks, there's none of the pressure I felt at my previous job. Overall, feeling good.
That being said, I forgot how much applying for jobs, especially in industries I'm unfamiliar with, is like a full-time job in itself. Lots of cover letters, sending emails to alumnae (politely) begging them to help me, etc. Of course, I'm more than a little peeved that I still haven't heard from the interview I went on over a week ago, especially since I was interviewed by one of my publishing mentors. Sigh.
In other news, there are two wine stores (Bottlerocket & Wine at 79) who have shown interest in hiring me part-time. I'm thinking that, even though they aren't the super prestigious stores I'm interested in, I might gain some experience there and then have another go at Sherry Lehman or Italian Wine Merchants. We'll see.
Tomorrow, I'll do some more proprioceptive stuff, hopefully. See you then!

Day of Writing (Not the Fun Kind)

I've been in a cover-letter-rewriting and job-applying tunnel all day, which is fine since it was really cold and foggy here today and easy to stay inside and get lots done. Cover letters are a strange beast. I'm someone who generally enjoys writing, and never really dreads it, but writing cover letters is something I absolutely hate. I'm not sure what it is about them, but it seems a universal truth that everyone despises writing them. There's something about summing up all of your experiences in a relevant way, using such carefully selected words, that is stupidly tedious and time-consuming. Then, of course, there's the understanding that everything you write will play such a role in whether or not some company calls you in for an interview. After a couple of hours of this, plus searching for the right jobs, my head starts to swim. Oh well, best to make the best use of this time when I'm not temping. If I'm not getting paid, I might as well be doing something productive!

Ok, enough of that. Now for something completely different. This is neither fiction nor pure truth. I just went with it today - with the prompt of "games people play."

I don't like routine, so I always try to keep people on their toes. When someone never knows what to expect from me, I consider it a personal victory.
It doesn't hurt my cause that I'm moody by nature, and sometimes see each interaction I have in a given day as a new opportunity to exorcise, even in some small way, how how I feel at that moment. Even if it's just thanking the coffee guy, or nervously smiling at someone new, there's definite transparency to how I act, for better or worse.
At the same time, I can be painfully self-conscious or unnecessarily confident, which factors into the equation as well. I realize that I'm effectively describing every hot-blooded woman ever, but I think everyone likes to believe that they are different, and the way their lives interlock with those of others is unique.
I like to think that a lot of people "know" who I am, and that I am not often guarded or performing in some way. I am more or less consistent, and maybe the shifts I make in myself aren't noticeable to others, but I believe this little charade I play is less me running with my multitude of emotions than a way to continually keep things interesting.

I leave you with this, a picture of "productivity." Plans B, C, and D.

Reunion & Renewal of Efforts

After losing my job last Wednesday, I was able to take a mini-vacation back to Simsbury, CT to the old alma mater, Westminster, for my five year high school reunion. It was a bit surreal, to say the least. We had a really incredible turnout, almost 75% of the Class of 2005 ended up making the journey. Campus has changed so much since I was back, especially since the building where I took all of my classes was bulldozed and replaced by a completely ridiculous(ly amazing) $40 million new one. That, coupled with the fact that a lot of the teachers I was close with in high school were either not at the reunion or no longer at Westminster, made me feel a little out of place. It was nice to catch up with some people from school though, and definitely nice to not dwell on my job situation for a few days.
Yesterday, upon return, I went back to Barnard (lots of trips down memory lane lately), where there is also a huge and expensive new building, completed since I graduated. I went to the Career Development office, and saw my old counselor, Robert, who is stupidly good at making me be proactive and encouraging me while making sure I walk out of his office energized and with a plan. In addition to going after publishing still, I'm now looking for jobs in three new areas: corporate communications (HR), advertising/PR, and legal assistant work (still contemplating the scary LSATs).
Went to the temp agency today, basically reassuring myself that I'll be able to work regularly and (sort of) have enough money until I find something permanent.
However, what I'm REALLY hoping is that I get the job I interviewed for on Friday and that none of this is necessary! Though experience has taught me not to be optimistic about these things...

So, I'm actually going to write something tomorrow and put it on here, promise. Until then!

The Walrus & The Carpenter

I watched Alice in Wonderland last night (the beloved, animated Disney version), and was delighted to rediscover the at once hilarious and terrifying anecdote of the Walrus and the Carpenter. That Walrus is scary looking, trust me, and those little oysters never stood a chance.
Given that I had lost my job a few hours before, and was feeling introspective, I saw a little bit of my own situation, mostly, why obsess over boring work when you can talk of other, more interesting and imaginative things? Lewis Carroll says it better:

"Work?! The time has come," the Walrus said
"To talk of other things
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax
Of cabbages and kings
And why the sea is boiling hot
And whether pigs have wings
Calloo-Callay
No work today!
We're cabbages and kings"

Obviously, work is good for money and stuff like that, but every now and then it's important, especially if you're me and want to maintain the creative energy and pursue the sorts of opportunities that utilize that, to remember your imagination, and watch a trippy, animated film.

So, before I prep for my interview and pack for my high school reunion (!), I'm going to listen to some French music, daydream about Paris, and do the dishes.

À Bientôt.

(Another Possible) Bump in the Road

So, I was laid off today. FBR figured out, from my numerous absences, that I was looking for other jobs. Since I'm a temp and they don't need to show me any professional consideration, they have been interviewing people for the past two weeks, found someone, and told me today that my last day is Friday.
Luckily, I happen to have another job interview Friday (of course, as soon as I throw in the towel on Publishing, one of my old contacts emails me asking me to interview to be her assistant), so obviously I hope to transition into something better.
Ultimately, though the whole situation and the way in which I felt hung out to dry were very upsetting, I've been able to get my head around things, and see that this is for the best. I'm still working on wine store jobs, and I'm thinking of looking for more waitressing jobs in the meantime. There is something a bit appealing about that sort of work after being in an office for over 6 months, doing things that made me feel stupid.
I spoke to my contacts at the temp agency, and they are very eager to find me other assignments. If I do decide to do temp work, I think it will be short term work, week by week, while I look for permanent things that I actually want to do. On the bright side, working at night / some days would give me more opportunities to write, etc. Honestly, I'm trying to see the bright side, and looking at the positive of something like this is difficult but important for me to do. Luckily, there are opportunities for me. I'm out of a situation that made me unhappy, and I'll still be able to make money, pay my rent, etc.
End of a certain era, but I feel as if it's the beginning of something better. There were some other things I wanted to write about today, but they took the back burner after this happened. I'll get to them tomorrow.

xx

Finally Doing My Civic Duty

I'm writing from the Manhattan Court House today. That's right - after months (years?) of attempting to evade first the Delaware and then the Manhattan judicial systems, I am finally here. It actually feels like a vacation, in a way. I can access all the websites (personal email, facebook, job search websites, this blog) that are blocked at work, get an hour for lunch, and wear jeans. However, it feels particularly serendipitous that I'm here, since I recently decided to take the plunge and sign up for an LSAT course. It sounds dumb, but when the judge came into the selection room this morning and spoke about the responsibilities of being on a jury and the implications of serving, I got a little excited about it. Yes, excited about jury duty. Either I really hate my day job, or maybe I'm more suited to study the law than I originally thought. I think I want to take the GREs as well, but I'm not sure what I'd go to grad school for other than a Writing MFA, which I'd want to do a little later on in life, or a law degree. Plus, the GREs have math, which is enough to make me a little wary about them.
Then again, Law School is a huge decision and investment, and I have had, no exaggerating, three people interrupt cell phone conversations in which I am discussing the LSAT and tell me not to go to law school. So, I'm deciding to take the test and let that experience (and my score, obviously) dictate whether or not I take the plunge. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, etc.
Now that my wine store inquiries and volunteer pursuits are starting to take root, I have to look at my job (or maybe grad school) prospects, frightening as it is. I'm going back to the Barnard Office of Career Development (it does not escape me that the office has the same acronym as obsessive compulsive disorder, it's actually quite apt) at the end of this week, and I've been brainstorming all the possible career paths that I could pursue for the next couple of weeks that wouldn't involve me being a receptionist and worrying that we're low on French Roast coffee in the break room. This is a harrowing task, but a necessary one.
Also, I'm using this hour and a half (!) lunch break at the court house to look up writing contests for various journals, magazines, online and off. The best inspiration is the deadline.
When that gets old, I have the latest issue of the Paris Review and Ian McEwan's latest. I could get used to jury duty.

'Til tomorrow.