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!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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...
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...
Sunday, May 23, 2010
(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:
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:
Thursday, May 20, 2010
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'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.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I love this woman
I cried while watching this. No joke.
*Also, I particularly enjoy that her lenses are Barnard Blue. Go, Meryl!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
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.
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.
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