Mix-Match

I want on an interview today for another internship. I know. I know. I have some explaining to do.

Last week I applied to an internship for a online networking site. No it wasn't facebook, myspace, or anything like that. It's another site that wants to achieve the same thing, except lacks the popularity of those other ones. Furthermore this site is tailored to those in the NYC area who have a pension for good times.

I knew, soon after applying, that this internship was not for me. I am not a dull, boring person...but I don't care about NY nightlife unless we are talking art shows, indie concerts and bistros. Regardless, I studied up on the website, got a sense of their 'objective' and tried to go in with a brave face.

I've been feeling crummy lately and surprisingly it has nothing to do with not having an internship. When I am sick, my whole body gives up on me and regardless of medicine and plenty of fluids, I am slow to recover from illnesses. I am use to TLC from my mom or at least the comfort of my dorm room to sooth my ailing self. But being miles away from home and needless to say getting NO TLC from my aunt, I was forced to recover on my own.

I am not fully recovered from this cold but I still wanted to make it to the interview. All weekend I was feeling a little...weird about the whole thing. I am interesting, and lively and fun...but not in that 'party hardy' sort of way. I recently checked out a book from the bookstore called "bohemian manifesto". By all accounts I am not a bohemian, or at least i don't think so. Regardless, sometimes I think I vacillate between bohemian and well the 'real world'. The book is not suppose to be serious. It is written by Laren Stover who was raised by a bohemian mother and her two bohemian dads. It is an observation of the culture through various understanding of the bohemian lifestyle. Plus there are pictures. Pictures!!!

Nevertheless there is a passage that pretty much states that bohemians go against the grain in every way possible. That [they] would rather be starving artist than apart of the "system'. That's sort of a stretch for me, I don't particularly mind the system but I don't want a crummy internship if that means I can write stuff. Let me explain.

So today i made my way to 23rd street via the 6 train for my interview. There are times I completely love this city. Maneuvering myself from grand central to the subway and finally through Park Ave made me feel alive and at peace. Sure I was stuck on a crowded subway in between a old lady and a tall man, and sure I got lost somewhere between 5th and 6th avenue but it was exhilarating. When I made my way to the office, I was so proud of myself. With only a map and my Chuck Taylor's I made it to the building unscathed.

I should have known things were not going to go well when I was cursed out by a very irate guard. Most buildings in the city have a guard sitting at a desk before you enter. When i came in, I saw that he was on the phone so i it took upon myself to read the directory on the wall to determine that i was in the right place. I went outside to call my mom, and then came back into the building and went directly upstairs. This did not seem like a problem to me.

When I got to the second floor 'said' security guard came upstairs a few minutes later (the 2nd floor has a bathroom). When he recognized my face he felt the need to scold me for entering the building without telling him where i was going. He was not pleased with me at all. While he was yelling at me, I was taking off my converse to put on my taller shoes. His accent was too thick for me to fully understand what he was saying, but i figured the finger being wagged in my face could only mean that he was pissed.

I sort of looked at him innocently with the shoes in my hand. After a small pout and a "i thought you were on the phone i didn't want to be rude" i apologized to the psycho guard. He seemed both satisfied and regretful about the exchange and went skating down the hallway in anger. Of course when he came back he said I could sit down on the floor if I wanted instead of awkwardly standing in the hallway. Maybe he felt guilty for overreacting.

Nevertheless at 1:50 I made my way down the hall towards the door on the left. As soon as I walked in I knew it wasn't the place for me. A bunch of preppy girls gave me the stank eye as i entered the spacious loft. All the heads turned at the girl (me) with the cardigan sweater and "organically grown" tote. I took a seat on a big couch in the corner of the room and waited for my interview. While I was waiting I managed to hear a certain conversation between Head Intern and her intern minions from the corner.

Because the site is trying to build a reputation for itself, they rely heavily on promotion. Promotion from themselves. They interns blog and write pieces in order to attract people to the site. The Head Intern was explaining to the girls how to write a piece that incorporated the sites name.

It went something like this:

HEAD INTERN: So lets say you just went to this nightclub that we promote on our site. When you write the piece say something like "hey me and my girls hit up this really cool club last night. We had the best night ever because there were a bunch of hot guys and the music was insane. Our night was awesome and me my girls had the best time ever!!!! We got the info on this place from [insert the name of the production company] and I am coming back as soon as possible =)." So that's pretty much what i want you guys to write while incorporating the name of the company.

My soul was crushed. I would never be proud of putting my name on something like that. Ever.The people who worked there were pretty much...well interested in night clubs and other promotional things. The girls were young and flaky and one of the only guys there kept saying "dude". Like excessively.

By the time I was called into the cubicle for the interview it was apparent by me and the person in charge that this was not the editorial internship I am looking for. I am into weird books, foreign movies, and taking pictures. I don't do nightclubs, fashion, and other crap like that. We entertained each other for a while as she went over the site and I pretended to care. When it was all over and done with I thanked her for having me in her office and that it was a pleasure to get a sense of her site.

I think we both turned each other down respectively, but I didn't feel so bad about this rejection.

I may sound pretentious right now but i couldn't imagine subjecting myself to writing fluff just to have an internship. I want to be taken seriously as a writer...whatever that means. I don't know anything about fashion, I like reading celebrity gossip but not writing about it, and furthermore if I have to write something like "that was da bomb" to get published...well then I'll pass.

I don't feel bad. I was very productive today and I know something will come my way. Something with people who sort of like the same things I do. Something where I get to read people's work or write some of my own that means something to a small community of like-minded people. Maybe I am a bohemian. But of course giving myself a label demotes my status completely.

I didn't know 'being someone' would be so hard. I am trying to become this quasi relevant person in a field that keeps rejecting me. I fear that i will get use to rejection and forget to strive for everything I imagine. So far I am keeping hope alone because honestly I'd rather struggle really hard to be somebody that settle to be mediocre.

6 days until I can go home. I am too excited.