September Slump!

I'm starting to really hate the month of September, which is a shame because it use to be one of my fave. September signifies the end of summer, the beginning of school and for me change. But for some reason, this month has kicked my ass and beat me up so badly I may not be kidding about that move to Australia thing.



For some reason, I thought I would come back to New York and everything would suddenly fall into place. I would love my internship, dig my part time gig, and enjoy living on my own (via my aunts house of course) but that has not happened. Though I still have this internship, I am convinced more and more that publishing is not for me. My part time gig is also wearing thin. There are too many changes, too many new faces which only remind me that I have been at the bookstore for a year. A whole year. Living with my aunt sucks too. There is no cable, no food (outside of what i buy) and no Internet (the Internet problem has been solved though thanks to my mom, the people at sprint, and some weird USB card I plug into my computer. Oh technology).



But still, times are much harder than I thought they would be and I feel as if I am running out of the little options that I have here. I feel like I am in the same place I was a year ago, and this is a heartbreaking and stark realization. I am smart, I am sensible (well, sometimes), I am well adjusted and-and-and yet after a year of interning and working part time BS at the bookstore, I have nothing to show for it. Nothing at all.



Last week was dreadful. As suspected, the old guy incident just set off a train of badness that followed me until the end of the week. I am dissatisfied at work, selling books, cleaning up after people, putting on my fake happy face that people fall for time after time. At my aunt's I still get this looming since that I bother her or am taking up space in her house, though I am rarely here when she is. This last week, she has avoided me more times than I can count. When I come inside the apartment she jets off to her room closing her down and shutting me out. My mom thinks she is behaving this way because the facade of her life is falling apart. There has been no cable for weeks and the food situation is still pretty grim. But I don't see why she should act weird around me.



The internship is coming along. I try to take in as much as I can without falling asleep at my desk. The Nazi is in Italy for two weeks, leaving Bethany and I with the Associate Editor. My time there is okay, but I am so bored some hours it hurts. I have no idea what to do with myself even though I have a pile of work to complete in just two short days. I am beginning to think that I am not as talented, bright or smart as I once believed. I can't be if this is all I have to show for it. I know that I am putting my all into getting my life to pick up, but my better best just seems to come up short. My better best is a bookstore job, an unpaid internship, and a couch to which I sleep on every night.

Some days I need to do a little self pitying. And last week I had my fair share of it. I want my life to pick up, I want to feel like I am succeeding in some small way instead of feeling like I am this big loser. I came home a couple of nights away and sat in the dark living for about an hour. It rained that whole day, and for some reason the rain always does something to me. For some reason all I could think about when i got home, soaked in my ugly work clothes, sitting on the couch that would in moments become my bed, is why am I not living this life of passion? I am consumed by passion in all facets of my life. I laugh hard, I cry hard, I feel so deeply for things that sometimes I am blinded by it and here I am at 23 with no f*cking clue what to do with my life. A life where i want nothing more than to live passionately and work passionately and love as passionately as I can. Why am I not doing this? Why?

I'm sort of stressed about all these things. I will not miss September it sucked hardcore and has literally kicked my ass.

Weight of the World

I just finished that very important application. It took a week, turned out to be 18 pages, and I may have lost some sleep. But it's done, and tomorrow morning I will send it as an attachment in hopes that my application will be the jem they are looking for. The praying begins tonight, the finger crossing and silent talks with whoever is up in the sky begins tonight. But I hate knowing, that at the end of it all, I am the only one who can make or break my future. I am the only one who can turn this thing into shit, and at the end of the day if nothing works out it may have so much more to do with me than I thought.

Oh, I need some more Ryan Adams. My head is a spinning. A proper post tomorrow. Promise

"I Think I'm Going to Move to Australia"

I had a horrible day yesterday. I mean horrible. I mean so bad I questioned getting out of bed today. So bad that I questioned getting into bed yesterday because I would have to wake up today. I knew the day was going to be bad from the moment I woke up yesterday. I had a feeling, like I didn't want to go into work especially because I had just closed the night before. But I refuse to call out sick unless I really am. So I went, dragging my feet the whole time but confidant that my weariness about the day would wear off.

It didn't, during the first hour of work I was scolded by some bald old dude while I was trying to decipher what the hell his wife was looking for. It started off like this. Some lady stopped me in the aisle asking for hard cover fiction books. I told her, in my most non-sarcastic way, that they would just be with the fiction books. So shook he head and said "no, sometimes you have special edition books published from the bookstore publishing house.." I replied, "oh those would be in the bargain". Out of nowhere her Nazi husband gave me the stank eye and almost yelled "You aren't letting her finish the damn sentence!". Yeah, he said this. I don't get mad often but when I do I get this surge of energy that seethes red. I could feel the books I was holding slide out of my hand, because I was about to throw them to the floor and take a swing at baldy and his wife. He yelled at me in the nastiest tone ever, as if outside of the bookstore I didn't exist as a human being. He probably has grandchildren my age and yet because I wear a stupid name tag that gives him the right to treat me like shit.

So I let her finish her sentence, and then repeated to her (and Nazi husband) that those books would be in the Bargain section. Like I said the first time. I didn't get an apology or even an affirmation that I was right and he was in the wrong. They walked away and said nothing to me, not even a thanks. I felt so horrible, and I still feel so horrible because at that place, at that store, I am nothing more than some girl behind a counter with a suck ass bookstore job. No one cares that the place is not my permanent job, or that I write, or that I have a family and feelings. I am nothing to them, just as I was nothing that guy yesterday. And after that it was all down hill.

It was like customers knew my place in society and they wanted to remind me of this with their stank attitudes and bitchy moods, and I couldn't do anything outside of grinning and bearing it even though I wanted to fight people all day.

For some reason, I've never felt less then a human being before until yesterday. I hate retail! I am very grateful that I managed to get a job at the bookstore so quickly last year, but I can not do this anymore. Not only because the customers SUCK BALLS but because I just don't belong there. I am a bright chick, I have so much potential and all I've managed to show for it is this. Is a place on the couch at my aunts house, a dumb minimum wage job, and that's it.

Something needs to happen. There needs to be a change. I need another job, I need my own place, I need a cat named Jack and I need to feel like a person again. If not, I can't stay here. I can't spend another 3 years with my aunt, or shelving books for assholes wearing ugly green shirts.

You think Australia would take me if I decided to go there. People don't have horrible days in Australia right?

Can It Be?

I've made it to Friday again. Sorry about the lack of posts but I have no idea where the days are going or why they are blending into one another. By this point I can only conclude that the Nonion internship is a bust. It's been two weeks, and I am no longer naive in regards to these internship things. When I applied for an internship almost a year ago I waited for what seemed like a month (most likely three weeks) for the editor to get back to me. Eventually I ended up just emailing the editor and inquiring about the position. What I've learned from that experience is that a) I will not wait anxiously about an internship for longer than 2 weeks and b) if the interviewee doesn't email or call me back in a fashionable manner than the hell with them.

It would have been incredibly cool to work at the Nonion, not always for the right reasons though. It was located in Soho, everyone was really young and I was hoping to make some friends. That's the part that really made me want it so bad. But whatever, I haven't let it get me down. Sir Maxwell Frey just did not see me as good candidate and if you would have been with me on the interview, you would have thought so too. I won't email him back, I won't inquire and sulk, I've decided to move on and look for something else.

Of course this week has been hectic and crazy. Monday I had a day off, which I spent at the library getting books and DVD's (Damages starring Glenn Close is the shit) and then it has been nonstop work from then, including my nice 12-8 shift today. The bookstore and the internship are killing me. I am so done putting away resort and sitting at a desk for 7 1/2 hours. While I haven't quit my internship yet I still feel like doing so every Tuesday and Thursday. Though I am still at the bookstore I still feel like quitting every Monday-Sunday. I love some of my co-workers but I have outgrown my time there.

I am applying to something HUGE. So Huge I can't even go into too much detail about it. The application is a series of questions along with some storytelling from my end. Though it isn't due until October the 1st (which is not that far away) I want to have it sent off and postmarked by Monday. No later than Monday. Getting this would be amazing, and would help me out financially, creatively, and yadda yadda yadda. It's a paid internship located in the city and the praying begins now that this works out. I am putting my all in to it. Hence the lack of posts this week.

The craziness is almost dying down though. Hopefully I will have a moment to breathe in the next few days. Anyway, time to work on application before I have to head to the bookstore.

The Smoothest Way is Sometimes Full of Stones

I am reading the most beautiful collection of short stories ever by Julie Orringer called How to Breathe Underwater. I have never read anything that has so captured the essence of being a girl in all of it's pain and discomfort. I have never read anything that has so lyrically captured what it's like to be a girl on the edge of adulthood, love, disappointment, sexuality, and independence.

I have had the book for about a week, untouched and laying on the floor. I mainly picked up it because the cover is a beautiful photograph which reminded me of some time from my youth that I never really had. A time when I felt like things were endless and I was free and uninhibited. Needless to say there is a reason why I checked this book out of the library, I have spent the last nights reading it in the dark, with my book light on and slight nods as every sentiment I have ever felt appears in the collection.

This week been incredibly hard. I still hate my internship in Connecticut. The lady is still bat shit crazy and I dread when she comes into the office with some half thought out thing for Bethany or I to do. I am also still incredibly broke. I mean I have money in my account but not the nice cushion of spending money I am use to. It doesn't help that the cable is out at my aunt's house (because she didn't and probably won't pay it) so I have been buying TV DVD's in order to have something to watch.

I have not and probably will not hear back from the Nonion. I have no one to blame but myself. I was incredibly awkward during the interview and my awesomeness may not have come off as much as I wanted to. At first I wanted to curse out the Maxwell fellow, for not being able to see the wicked awesome intern under the girl full of nerves. But then I figured he is only doing his job. Then I wanted to curse out god, because I spent the whole week praying to him and for what...but that seemed pointless.

Instead I spent a few days cursing myself out and sulking. I am very good at this sulking thing. I feel like I am in the same place I was in last year except t now I have the internship I so desperately fought for and no longer desire. I am still at the bookstore, I am still at my aunt's house (where I don't even have a bed anymore, just a couch) and I am still very very broke. Though I did buy Season One of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I may be broke but I will always have Larry David.

I cannot stop comparing myself to other people my age. Do you know I went to high school with one of the girls from this seasons Project Runway. Yeah, Carol Hannah. Of course I began hating on her immediately. Why the f*ck am I not on Project Runway (I know i don't design clothing but this is irrational jealous me talking), why am I not pursuing my passion hardcore, why isn't Tim Gunn here to console me. Why do I feel like I am getting nowhere, and quick. Why is the girl from my history class (who moved up here, and whose dumb fun pictures on facebook keep popping up on my home page) living the life I want. With her real people job and her real people friends while I can only claim my sullenness as a past time.

And of course after all that sulking and crying silently to myself, I have to go back and continue to exist and hope that things will get better. That it has to right? I'm hoping that this week is a lot better, I have some more stuff to apply to and sleep to be had. Of course before I close my eyes I will flip through another story in Orringers book and remember how difficult it is just to be, and exist, and prosper when your are just on the brink of some truth larger than yourself.

Lucky Day? 09-09-09

No word from the internship yet. But today is suppose to be lucky right? Today is suppose to be the day where good karma injects itself it to the air. Today is suppose to be the day...someone's day where things work out.

Please, please, please...

Who's That Girl...

Yesterday was an incredibly off day. Some days you wake up and you know that shit is going to hit the fan. You know that things will happen to you that makes you wish you decided to stay home or you called out sick for work. Recently I have been having a string of these off days. Nothing incredibly bad happens but I am filled with thoughts that make me very sour and displeased with my current situation.



When went home for 6 weeks I was frightened that I would return to New York and everything would be completely different. I was worried that some of the familiar faces at work would be replaced by new ones, I was concerned that I would have to rebuild relationships with old pals and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get back into the swing of things smoothly. Of course a lot of these things have happened. My favorite manager is leaving, a couple of new gals were hired, and I am readjusting to work again...but other than that everything else is the same. I have gotten over the new changes quickly, a lot quicker than I thought I would.



Instead of being overwhelmed by some of the little changes, I am more frustrated by the lack of them. I hate that I after a year here I am still the Bookstore girl, I hate that I still have to convince people that I am employable or that I would make a wicked awesome intern at that some faux newspaper organization. It's bananas! I know life is about continually learning, growing, developing yadda yadda yadda..but I feel like as of right now I have proven myself worthy of something and yet I continue to help dumb customers while being patronized for working retail.



After a year of working at the bookstore I am a face customers are use to seeing. People ask me for help by my first name now (which annoys me to no end) and people seek me out specifically for assistance. I am an old face at an old place and it is driving me crazy. Yes i know that this will not be my job forever, yes I know that I am a big fish in a small pond but I cannot help taking out my frustration on unsuspecting customers who think it is cute to mention how awesome it is that I work at a bookstore.



Yesterday was no different. I pulled in an early shift (from 9-5) and was annoyed by the fact that I was there. The customers annoyed me, the store itself annoyed me, and most all I was annoyed by myself because I am doing as much as I can to make things better and yet this is all I have to show for it. And suddenly as I was answering my favorite of bookstore questions (where is the nonfiction section) I realized what it was...I am the change I was afraid of. I left for 6 weeks, came back, and suddenly I realize that I have no desire to be in this same spot again.



I have outgrown my current situation and I am eager to move on. Very eager. So eager that I have become antsy and cranky with a pinch of sullen dissatisfaction. When you work in retail everyone looks at you as if this job is the highlight of your career. That you spend your every waking day at the store because you have nothing else going on. Or maybe this is what I think they think of me. I just hate when someone my age comes into the store wearing nice business attire and talking about their exhausting day at work and then I look down at my semi casual clothes and book in hand to only realize that I don't want to be doing this anymore.

I won't know about this internship until Wednesday but it doesn't mean I haven't been freaking out about it ever since the interview. Once again I am on the fringe of something big and my fate is the hands of someone else. I don't think I made a stellar impression last week. The guy who interviewed me is literally 3 years older than I am. Because of this I was a lot more casual during this interview than I usually am. I figured personality would be a huge benefit so I banked on being approachable and friendly. But when it came to answering some of the questions he asked, I fumbled around with them. For someone that young I wasn't expecting him to ask the 'where do you see yourself in 5-10 years" question. It's a text book interview question but for some reason I still find it hard to answer.

In all honesty in 10 years I just don't want to be that girl....that girl working at the bookstore, that girl sleeping on her aunt's couch, that girl trying to finish some novel she isn't sure people want to read. I want to be the girl who is doing something she loves, with the people she loves, in a world where my creativity and imagination can run loose. Be it ten years from now or one week from now. But people don't buy that as a good enough answer and now I just have to wait and hope it was good enough for him and his faux news.

Wanna Know A Secret?

Sometimes I wish I was someone else. Sometimes I wish this life wasn't mine. Sometimes I am convinced that everyone else's life is so much better than mine. Sometimes I wish it all made sense to me.

Are you Funny, or just Funny Looking

Yesterday I went to the most amazing place in the whole entire world. Seriously. On Broadway there is an office located on the 10th floor of a building in Soho. I mean right in Soho. Right in the heart of the place. Where I was going (for the interview) is actually right across the street from where I had my roof top luncheon with the editor for a children's publishing company. Except this time I didn't have to bring my aunt with me because I knew the way. This time I knew exactly where I was going, where the closest pizza place was, and where I could sit for a while until my interview time.

I have not been back to the city since I stepped off the train a few weeks ago. And seriously, whenever you think this place sucks, whenever you are just about to jump of the figurative edge, just being in the city pulls you back. Seeing the tall buildings, and being surrounded by faces (local and non local) gives you some sense that you are alive. That people are literally two heart beats away from being completely the same, and that is when all your angst falls away. It did for me anyway.

I had a very important interview yesterday, for a newspaper that is very popular in the north east. It isn't your normal sort of news though, it's news served up with a pinch of college humor and a crapload of BS, but people love it. Got to love the funnies. I vaguely heard about them in school, but only passing and when I wasn't paying attention to care about a 'not real' newspaper. When I started listening to This American Life, there was a piece on [them] which I thought was pretty funny and ever since then I've go to the website every once in a while to check out the funny though faux news.

That is all I am allowed to say, or all I want to say because I don't want to get my hopes up. The place was filled with people my age, wearing converse shoes and walking around with Mac computers. There was so much going on that i got caught up in the actors sitting next to me rehearsing their lines and the guys down the loft reading each others work and laughing. I felt out of place not because I really was, but because for the last two weeks I have been in an office with 2 middle aged women discussing why chest hair on the cover of romance novels is forbidden.

The moment I stepped off the elevator and was greeted by the receptionist who looked like Pam from The Office (which I don't think was a coincidence when they hired her) I knew I wanted to be there. I wanted to be in that loft with these people doing whatever the hell they were doing. But I am not really confident about the interview. I stumbled on the questions, didn't fully understand what my role would be and I kept swiveling in the swivel chair (don't do interviews in swivel chairs) but I made the interviewer laugh (he was seriously like 2 years older than me) and I tried to give off a "I'm a comfortable, fun, reliable person to be around. Have me as your intern please"

The interview did not last long. I walked out not so confidant that they would ever allow me to have such a cool internship with boys wearing glasses and girls in ballerina shoes. Of course, afterwards, when I was on the train home I couldn't help but feel as if I had blown the whole thing. What I wouldn't do to have this internship. What I wouldn't do to go there every week and be apart of a creative team. He said he would let me know next week, but I can't help but feel that I have just let the greatest thing to come my way (in a few months) slip out of my hand. I can't help but feel as if the place I want so desperately to belong to has no place for me.

I did make him laugh though. That has to say something about how awesome I am. I'm going to need a lot of finger crossing to land this one folks. Feel free to send some good vibes my way.

What Betrayl

I have an interview tomorrow. It's a production gig for a pretty popular newspaper (and network) that all the hip cool kids read and talk about. It's just another internship, I know, but I am super nervous. I have no idea what to wear, I have no idea what to ask the guy I have my interview with tomorrow, and I am nervous as shit.

Why can't I get myself together.

Why?