Wonderfulness has taken over. Ladies and gentleman, perhaps if you complain enough good things will happen. Perhaps if you are an impatient, obsessive-compulsive, control freak things will happen the way you want them to. Perhaps, I am right. But I digress…
I have a J-O-B.
It doesn’t begin for another couple of weeks, but I am absolutely ecstatic about it. I don’t want to expand too much on this blog for reasons that are slightly above my maturity level, but mostly because I suppose that is unprofessional. Which means that I will most likely continue to write about things I can’t be held accountable for i.e., my family, friends, total strangers, and random thoughts.
I’ve been mildly entertaining for this long, right?
I feel like I’m not “here” right now. Does that make remotely any sense? I’m currently at my internship, but I’m so unaware of my surroundings and obsessed with my e-mails and my job applications that I forgot where I was. After about an hour of listening to music–headphones on–I decide to look up and, voila! Magazines, random novelty toys, and beauty products surround me. I am at my internship…not my bed, not my local coffee shop, not anywhere else.
I feel a little lost I guess. I’ve come to New York to begin this life, but I’ve begun an entirely different life then I had planned, and now the original life that I’m still trying to achieve has little time to become realized. Again I ask you: Does that make remotely any sense?
After speaking to a friend online earlier today, I began thinking about even more uncertain things than I had been before. This is not necessarily a bad or worrisome thing. Thinking is good. Thinking about what will happen to me next week versus this week. There is something congruently pleasant and totally sad about me hoping that perhaps next week my life will be completely different from my life this week. This week I am an unpaid intern with a bachelor’s degree who waitresses at a pizza place. Who knows what I may be next week! Most likely though…I will still be an unpaid intern with a bachelor’s degree who waitresses at a pizza place. And you know what? Maybe I should just start to accept that this is life for a while and be able to be happy with the status quo.
Some obsessive compulsive part of me is telling me that that kind of thinking would be wrong. If you’re unhappy with your situation, you change it. But never being happy with any situation is also a recipe for disaster. So where do you draw the line between being a motivated, self-starter and just always wanting more? Is it good to always want more? And perhaps the real balance to aim for is where you still always want more but can still be happy with what you have?
I’m sorry if I’ve made you think too much. But this is what goes on in my head ALL DAMN DAY. Yea, I know. One day when I’ve figured it all out, I’m going to write a self-help book; and you’re all going to buy it and read it from cover to cover. You’re going to be amazed at my “living life-skills.” Just you wait.
Today marks day 29 on my quest to find a job. Job hunting is kind of like what I would imagine dating to be for ugly people who have too high of standards. You have that dream occupation in mind and you’re not willing to settle for less. You start off really confident. I will get that job. I am perfect for it. Then you realize that the only people that get jobs like those are the ones who “slept around” with everyone involved with the position, thus getting an in when some people who may really deserve it and are ready for such a responsibility remain as waitresses–I mean, remain unemployed. (This has nothing to do with me, obviously.) I have probably applied to over 30 jobs, had two interviews, and arranged two informational interviews. These informational interviews, while not meant for the purpose of securing employment, actually leave me the most satisfied. I’m at ease because there is no fear of rejection, and the editorial assistants that I meet are genuinely nice. I think they relate to my tales of despair in a world with too many writers and not enough writing positions.
And now, perhaps because my day of interning is over and I actually have the night off from work, optimism has decided to trickle into my prose. –A rarity to those of you familiar with the way my mind works. As cliché and romanticized as this will sound, in the back of my mind I know it’s the truth: Years from now I will be looking back at these moments of humiliation, desperation, and lack of funds as some of the most wonderful and humbling times I will ever face. A friend recently wrote to me in an e-mail, that if it were easy, everyone would move out to New York and be fabulous. How true. Honestly, I had been telling myself for nearly a year now that I would move out to New York, be poor, work really hard for a while in order to secure a position, and make life happen from there. At no point did I naively think: With my credentials, I should have no problem getting a job. So I guess this post is my way of rationally telling my mind to stop being so masochistic and punishing me for not yet having found my very own 401k plan with health benefits.
I am not an ugly person with high standards. I just haven’t slept with the right people yet.
Writing is like a sport. Without proper training and practice, you really start to suck at it. The only type of written work I’ve completed since graduation in May has been along the lines of: “Attached you will find my resume, cover letter, and writing samples. I may provide references upon request.” I have been applying to various jobs like crazy ever since moving to New York about a month ago, which is really a full-time job in itself. It’s a tedious and winding road, but it’s also the only route to my final destination. So here I am–hopefully on my way.
For those interested in knowing (and I’m assuming you are, otherwise why would you be reading this?) I have begun my editorial internship with NYLON and have started waitressing at this quaint pizzeria in Brooklyn not far from where I live. For the moment, holding my breath, life is good. I’m busy and tired, but I deposit my singles into the bank the following day with a pride that only servers and strippers can understand. I say to myself: Bitch, I earned my money! Of course I then go and buy some frock to don. Some people, like my father, may think of this as an unnecessary expense. You’d be wrong though. It’s like I tell people, such as my father, that clothes are just little investments into my future career. More importantly though, above all else, new clothes just make me feel better. I could have a worse addiction. Am I wrong here?
I have several more things I want to talk about right now but can’t because I have to go to work in thirty minutes. I’ll give you a quick “dirt sandwich”-like preview though (only in writing and not by video): man shaving on subway, new Russians: a.k.a “my family”, one-eyed cab driver, first Brooklyn Heights experience=a good one.
Well, I am happy to confirm that I will be moving to New York City post-graduating in May. Yikes. I mean, I’m terribly excited. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just, ah—what a change from my life here in the District.
Basically, this past Thursday I took a train up to New York with my dear friend Andrew to interview for yet another editorial internship for the upcoming summer. This one was for the awesome Nylon magazine, located right in Soho. I’m happy to report that I got the position and will be fulfilling what I plan to be my final internship!
The whole day was pretty great actually, despite a 24-hour snow storm that just had to happen during my whopping 36-hour stay. You see, I was actually a little freaked out to be going back to NYC. I have nothing but great memories from living there this past summer, but it’s a whole ‘nother ball game when you plan on actually moving there for no fixed time and have gotten it through your dense skull that you will soon be looking for a job in this incredibly competitive, intimidating market. Yeesh.
My thoughts on adulthood: I’m too poor to be independent and too old to steal from my parents’ liquor cabinet. Oh well, it can’t stay this way forever!
I haven’t posted photos in a while. Here’s a picture I took from my summer in the city. Enjoy.
Claire and I met three years ago at a large public college in Oxford, Ohio known to many as Miami University. (Please withhold all misguided beach bum jokes.) However, we both realized within the first few weeks, that our collegiate destinies lay elsewhere. Today, you can find her studying fashion design at Parsons the New School for Design in New York City.
Well, we’re still great friends, and today is her twenty-second birthday. While many of us would consider the highlight of our celebrations to involve a great many shots of liquor, Claire is busy being featured in Women’s Wear Daily.
WWD 8/29/2007 WELDON LAYNE
Designers: Torie Greenberg and Claire Smith
Backstory: Greenberg, above left, and Smith have certainly been busy this year. In addition to launching their line for the spring 2008 season, the two have had to deal with a pesky little thing called homework. Yes, Greenberg, 20, and Smith, 22, are still in school and won’t be graduating from Parsons until 2009. At least they have plenty of working credits on their résumés — Greenberg has interned at Libertine, Anna Sui, Jill Stuart and Vogue, while Smith has spent time at Brian Reyes as well as two years on the sales floor at Intermix. The moniker Weldon Layne stems from Smith and Greenberg’s middle names, respectively.
Collection: There’s a element of “mischievous fantasy” to their 16-look debut, according to Greenberg. The inspiration — the fairy-tale adventures of Henrik Ibsen’s play “Peer Gynt” — isn’t readily apparent, though. They make use of sweeping curved seams “to mimic a journey,” she says, and the fabrics they source hail from around the globe. The linens, for example, come from Ireland; the lace, France, and the cotton tulle, England. Even the color scheme, saffron and rust, is meant to evoke a far-off world. But whether one can connect these dots doesn’t matter; the charm of Weldon Layne is in its simple, easy city appeal.
Stats: The line wholesales from $165 for a pair of linen shorts to $710 for cotton tulle dress.
Featured above are Torie and Claire (top right), the brains behind the new clothing line known as, Weldon Layne.
Congratulations on such a huge achievement! And, of course, Happy Birthday!
Say what you will about me, for I may be boasting…but I have successful friends. We’re a hard-working bunch with high aspirations for the future. To give a few very general examples (you know who you are): I have a friend beginning her own fashion line, with samples soon to be passed around the hallways of Vogue. Another friend of mine is embarking on a career in trend forecasting, while others seek jobs within film, magazines, and photographic ventures.
The way I see it, we may just rule the world someday.
Alright, not the actual world. We’re not exactly curing cancer or saving the rain forest here, but we are trying to commit our lives to something constructive that will also make us happy.
This brings me back to thinking about the question we were all asked as children, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Let’s see here. I believe I was considering becoming a meteorologist pretty strongly back in the second grade. As far as the weather goes now, I’m not too proud to admit that I now check it mainly to settle on whether or not my hair will be curly or straight that day (based on humidity, rain, etc. You get it.) Since then however, all of my career-like dreams have been leaning towards the realms of art and/or media.
Now, I may not be quite as good at predicting things like my trend forecasting buddy, but if I were to conjecture my near future from where I sit right now, it might look a little something like this:
I’ve graduated college and am looking for a job. All I will have managed to acquire however, is an editorial internship. Great. I’ll be working for free, again.
My new apartment that I will be living in, which will cost $1000+, is quite nice actually. I’ll have my own room, and when I put my hands out to the sides, they’ll be just short of touching both of the bedroom walls (At the same time, that is). Spacious, really.
Yet each morning, I go to work, and I write a little bit. Sure I may also be faxing a few pages, building some spreadsheets, but I’ll be working towards what I truly want to be doing. I’ll freelance on the side. I’ll meet some people. And sooner or later…I may just be getting paid.
Back to my original point: I have successful friends. We don’t technically have careers yet, (as we may still be in school or have just graduated) but someday, you may just want to network with us.