| Ice melting in boiling water; the water in Sunnyside is a little funky this week. |
Monday, October 25, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Day 19
| Prospect Park for the afternoon, followed closely by date-night at hipster-chic Japanese restaurant. (Again, with the digital lomo.) |
Day 17
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Day 12
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| A camera at the Premium Rush filming at Columbia. |
Last night Jeremy and I met up with, basically, the whole gang for drinks: Arielle and Russ were in the city for the night before leaving to go to Santa Fe for the weekend, and Mally had just moved in to her (and Anna's) apartment in Brooklyn, and Anna was there too because they had been shopping for furniture earlier. Needless to say we all got a little tipsier than we had maybe planned (maybe not Arielle and Russ, but the rest of us did). It was fun, as always, and I am so happy that it will be happening more and more as I remain off Long Island and closer to everyone and nightlife in the city. Today I met up with Anna and Mally for lunch uptown by Columbia. The main event was, clearly, to hang out around Columbia to see what we could see of Premium Rush and, more importantly, JGL. I didn't get, or try to get, a clear picture of him because they were filming inside (and also I didn't want to feel like a fan-girl). Somehow the security only appeared to be intense--there were 2 security guards stationed at the entrance closest to the building they were filming at--and we were able to sit on the lawn right in front of the, conveniently glass-walled, building to watch the goings on. There was one stage-manager type person who I thought was eyeing us as we sat amidst the "background" extras, but she only realized we weren't supposed to be there when they switched scenes and had to change the "background."
Either way, we racked up some spy-time on the ever-dapper, even in just a red t-shirt and jeans, JGL (regularJoe, hitRECordJoe, Joesph Gordon-Levitt). I swooned a bit, secretly of course, and tried to look normal...I think it worked. I had a fit of slightly hysterical giggling at some point, but it could have also been due to the deliciously sugary cinnamon bun that I had for post-lunch snack. The set broke for lunch, hence the blanketed camera, and we explored a little closer to the glass, then strolled out onto the street with the trailers for a minute before feeling like stalkers. We hung around through the next scene, but left when they broke again for, what looked like, make-up touch ups and cell phone updates. But, gosh, he really is just as attractive in person.
When I got home I made mac&cheese and watched 30 Rock until Jeremy got back from work. All in all a very good two days, especially today.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Day 11
| This morning; breakfast for ants. |
Some blurry phone-pictures from my attempts at maintaining 365 while working past sun-set, or just before:
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| Yesterday: that blurry vertical sign on the left is Radio City. |
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| The night before: the fountain across the street. |
Monday, August 9, 2010
Day 10
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Day 0, again
As it turns out, it is impossible for me to maintain a (continuous) 365 project while holding a (though temporary) full-time job at a magazine, especially during the time-warp-esque holiday season that is the summer. It will have to be a modified 365 project, I will do my best to take a picture every day, and the days I don't I will make up for by taking more pictures others
This week was at once insanely long and incredibly short. I do think I'm cut out for this, but I don't know for how long. I love magazines, and I love being in control of situations, but at a certain point everything can seem so trivial. For me, at least, I think that I need to approach this situation from a somewhat distant standpoint. My interest in magazines, how they come together and function once published, is still an intellectual one. Eventually I see myself going back to school, and hopefully remaining affiliated with one, but for now my position is treating me well.
However, my body, and brain, are still recovering from the week, and tomorrow I will have to try really hard to get back into business mode. I took a nap earlier in the day and had a dream about finding prices and laying out products for a run-through; I can't escape.
This week was at once insanely long and incredibly short. I do think I'm cut out for this, but I don't know for how long. I love magazines, and I love being in control of situations, but at a certain point everything can seem so trivial. For me, at least, I think that I need to approach this situation from a somewhat distant standpoint. My interest in magazines, how they come together and function once published, is still an intellectual one. Eventually I see myself going back to school, and hopefully remaining affiliated with one, but for now my position is treating me well.
However, my body, and brain, are still recovering from the week, and tomorrow I will have to try really hard to get back into business mode. I took a nap earlier in the day and had a dream about finding prices and laying out products for a run-through; I can't escape.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Day 8, Day 2
| Just like watching the world cup, but no bazoozoos. |
Today was even crazier than yesterday, but in a good way. No more cutting out pictures, just more cutting open boxes. I moved into my office today, which was sweet, and I felt in control of everything, which was even better. The hours were long, I didn't leave the office until 8:30, but the job is pretty awesome.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Day 7, Day 1
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| The view from my office. |
...
I didn't wind up leaving until 8pm, and the office is much more for The Stuff than for me. But I'm no longer sitting at home all day wishing I had a job. I'm not made anxious by the idea that I'm not cut out for the magazine world. I've, temporarily, stopped worrying about being worried.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Things are happening! / Things have happened!
Today was strange in the best sorts of ways. Jeremy and I work up early, and when he left for home I began my day with no plans other than another job hunt. Luckily, for me, a job found me instead. After drinking copious amounts of tea, and watching too much reality TV, I decided to pickle the red onion that was sitting on the counter. By the time I was done I had dirtied far more dishes than necessary, and painfully cried at least 5 times, but at least I had successfully made apple-cider vinegar-pickled onions. Around noon, in the middle of another cup of tea, I got a call from BigNameMagazine to chat quickly about my interest in interning for them, and then asked if I was available to come into the office at 3:30 to meet the production team. Of course I agreed, and of course I got there super early--early enough to see another interviewee for the position...
While I was trying not to get too nervous for the interview itself, I started psyching myself out that the girl who interviewed ahead of me is WAY more qualified than I am. (It also didn't help that she had perfect shiny long hair, flawless makeup, a structured business-type dress, and four-inch black pumps on.) Thinking over my own appearance, I obviously didn't look as qualified as she did; boring bun, only used some powder and mascara, a houndstooth belted sweater with a gray a-line skirt, and flats...But the interview had to happen, and I was already wearing this outfit that I felt wonderful in ten minutes earlier.
When it was my turn to go, I pulled myself together. I told myself: "Even if she appears more qualified than me, she probably isn't." When I got to the correct floor, I was lost between two separate sets of glass doors--no receptionist in sight. I walk through one and walk back out. The opposite one is locked--back I go to the first. I go in further, past a glass conference room, and luckily it's where I was supposed to be all along.
The interview was short and sweet. Lots of smiles all around, and not only from me, and going from one topic to the next was a piece of cake (the position to my interests, my living situation to my experience, Vassar to my interests in magazines). And what was truly great was I could tell that they really liked me. On my way out they told me that I would know by the end of the day (as the position begins on Monday), and for some reason I wind up nervous again. The uncertainty of finding an opening, and the even greater uncertainty of interviews, was back again as the uncertainty of finally getting the position.
Luckily I only had to wait an hour before I got my answer: YES! I nowwork intern at BigNameMagazine. (Plus it's PAID!) It's hard to explain how happy I am about it, and how fast things have changed since yesterday. Even though it's not a salaried position, and it's nowhere near permanent, I really think that this could be the experience I need to land a career.
Well, at least a career for now.
While I was trying not to get too nervous for the interview itself, I started psyching myself out that the girl who interviewed ahead of me is WAY more qualified than I am. (It also didn't help that she had perfect shiny long hair, flawless makeup, a structured business-type dress, and four-inch black pumps on.) Thinking over my own appearance, I obviously didn't look as qualified as she did; boring bun, only used some powder and mascara, a houndstooth belted sweater with a gray a-line skirt, and flats...But the interview had to happen, and I was already wearing this outfit that I felt wonderful in ten minutes earlier.
When it was my turn to go, I pulled myself together. I told myself: "Even if she appears more qualified than me, she probably isn't." When I got to the correct floor, I was lost between two separate sets of glass doors--no receptionist in sight. I walk through one and walk back out. The opposite one is locked--back I go to the first. I go in further, past a glass conference room, and luckily it's where I was supposed to be all along.
The interview was short and sweet. Lots of smiles all around, and not only from me, and going from one topic to the next was a piece of cake (the position to my interests, my living situation to my experience, Vassar to my interests in magazines). And what was truly great was I could tell that they really liked me. On my way out they told me that I would know by the end of the day (as the position begins on Monday), and for some reason I wind up nervous again. The uncertainty of finding an opening, and the even greater uncertainty of interviews, was back again as the uncertainty of finally getting the position.
Luckily I only had to wait an hour before I got my answer: YES! I now
Well, at least a career for now.
A Business Lunch
Yesterday, after the rain stopped, I went to meet my two ex-internship supervisors - R and M - for lunch at SoHo Park. I strolled into the office as if I belonged, but mostly only because the front-desk coordinator was out for lunch. When I arrived I still hadn't fully figured out if it was supposed to be some sort of exit-interview, or just a friendly get together. This confusion clearly sprung for the abrupt termination of the internship a few weeks ago - the managing editor decided to change their policy on not-for-credit internships only a month into my stay. Before I left, my supervisors made it clear to me that they would have kept me if they could, and will keep me in mind if a position opens up or they have freelance available.
But, getting back to the point, was it an exit-interview or a friendly lunch; a business-lunch or a lunch-during-business-hours? I was notably nervous, and told them how much I missed working with them and that I hoped all was well. Everything seemed normal, although they did miss the work I saved them from doing while I was there. We touched upon what I'm up to now, and my response was "Still searching, not too worried." The subject changed to weekend plans and goings on about town, which was comforting because this is my first time staying in Brooklyn and they both R and M had happy suggestions about where to explore and what to see before I go back home.
Finally, I loosened up. I figured that the distinction I was making was unnecessary and made me uncomfortable. Did it matter whether or not they thought this was an exit-interview? No. The best impression I could make on them was to just be myself. We kept talking about Brooklyn and other things to do around Manhattan. Somehow the NYC zoo came up, so I began raving about it; even though it's really small, it's comfortingly so; you can leisurely stroll through it, see everything, and continue your journey through the park without being exhausted. R said maybe she'll do that this weekend. Somehow Inception came up after talking about which TV-shows we all marathon and I gave a brief review and then explained my love for Joe Gordon-Levitt. Maybe too much information for an interview, but if I want to work with them again the best way was for me to just be me.
When I got home, Jeremy was just arriving. We walked around the neighborhood for a while, ate delicious tacos for dinner, and then settled in to watch The Baxter. Today might bring more exploring, I'm thinking of walking over to the waterfront, even though Jeremy says it will be gross, to see the skyline.
But, getting back to the point, was it an exit-interview or a friendly lunch; a business-lunch or a lunch-during-business-hours? I was notably nervous, and told them how much I missed working with them and that I hoped all was well. Everything seemed normal, although they did miss the work I saved them from doing while I was there. We touched upon what I'm up to now, and my response was "Still searching, not too worried." The subject changed to weekend plans and goings on about town, which was comforting because this is my first time staying in Brooklyn and they both R and M had happy suggestions about where to explore and what to see before I go back home.
Finally, I loosened up. I figured that the distinction I was making was unnecessary and made me uncomfortable. Did it matter whether or not they thought this was an exit-interview? No. The best impression I could make on them was to just be myself. We kept talking about Brooklyn and other things to do around Manhattan. Somehow the NYC zoo came up, so I began raving about it; even though it's really small, it's comfortingly so; you can leisurely stroll through it, see everything, and continue your journey through the park without being exhausted. R said maybe she'll do that this weekend. Somehow Inception came up after talking about which TV-shows we all marathon and I gave a brief review and then explained my love for Joe Gordon-Levitt. Maybe too much information for an interview, but if I want to work with them again the best way was for me to just be me.
When I got home, Jeremy was just arriving. We walked around the neighborhood for a while, ate delicious tacos for dinner, and then settled in to watch The Baxter. Today might bring more exploring, I'm thinking of walking over to the waterfront, even though Jeremy says it will be gross, to see the skyline.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Day 2
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Temporary/Lasting Changes
I have temporarily uprooted myself from Long Island to spend three lovely weeks in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Though the cats and plants must be fed and looked after, I am temporarily living the life. (More about this later.)
As I've learned many times, a good night's sleep helps bring good ideas the help they need to be smart ideas. When I woke up this morning I had a realization: in my odd introductory post I neglected to get to the point of my being here, typing all of this, on the internet. This time around it isn't (just) a place for me to vent and feel self-important, it's more of a true running log. In the past, my records have betrayed themselves and lapsed into vague suggestions of feelings no longer felt; they have meanings that no longer refer.
Now that a large chunk of youthful uncertainty has passed--I made it through high school and college, found my interests and myself--I'm left to face the open void that is, essentially, adulthood. I need to find a job. I need to move out of my parent's house. I need to, in the crudest and simplest terms, get my shit together...but how? What do I want to be (besides a well-paid something-or-other)? What do I want to do (besides watch reality TV and read celebrity gossip)? Where do I want to go (besides visiting all the cool places in the world)?
The big "H" seems to be on the tip of everyone's tongue, or at least it's somewhere on the palette, and more often than not it seems that the answer remains elusive even once things start working out. I've done internships, but I still want to go to graduate school; I'm done with college and had a wonderful life-changing experience, but I sometimes wish that it could just start again or wish that it had just kept going. My life now calls for constant job searching, and thus constant self-questioning--yet another stint of, even greater, uncertainty than the stages I've already gone through.
I'm currently sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and listening to the cats' infinity water bowl and the constant dry hum of the BQE. Even though I'm out of my house, I still feel the need to get out and be someone, do something and go places.
For starters, I need a personal project, aside from cover-letter-writing and computer-staring and blog writing, so I'm going to (do my best) to start a 365 project: one photo, of anything, per day for one year. I'll throw those here every day, if not only to keep track, and will add to them my woes and (hopefully) triumphs as a post-grad girl just looking to live.
As I've learned many times, a good night's sleep helps bring good ideas the help they need to be smart ideas. When I woke up this morning I had a realization: in my odd introductory post I neglected to get to the point of my being here, typing all of this, on the internet. This time around it isn't (just) a place for me to vent and feel self-important, it's more of a true running log. In the past, my records have betrayed themselves and lapsed into vague suggestions of feelings no longer felt; they have meanings that no longer refer.
Now that a large chunk of youthful uncertainty has passed--I made it through high school and college, found my interests and myself--I'm left to face the open void that is, essentially, adulthood. I need to find a job. I need to move out of my parent's house. I need to, in the crudest and simplest terms, get my shit together...but how? What do I want to be (besides a well-paid something-or-other)? What do I want to do (besides watch reality TV and read celebrity gossip)? Where do I want to go (besides visiting all the cool places in the world)?
The big "H" seems to be on the tip of everyone's tongue, or at least it's somewhere on the palette, and more often than not it seems that the answer remains elusive even once things start working out. I've done internships, but I still want to go to graduate school; I'm done with college and had a wonderful life-changing experience, but I sometimes wish that it could just start again or wish that it had just kept going. My life now calls for constant job searching, and thus constant self-questioning--yet another stint of, even greater, uncertainty than the stages I've already gone through.
I'm currently sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and listening to the cats' infinity water bowl and the constant dry hum of the BQE. Even though I'm out of my house, I still feel the need to get out and be someone, do something and go places.
For starters, I need a personal project, aside from cover-letter-writing and computer-staring and blog writing, so I'm going to (do my best) to start a 365 project: one photo, of anything, per day for one year. I'll throw those here every day, if not only to keep track, and will add to them my woes and (hopefully) triumphs as a post-grad girl just looking to live.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Beginning Anew
Ok, so I'm no stranger to self-description on the internet; I'm 22, I've had my online-intro down since before I was even on MySpace. I started my first LiveJournal when I was 16 (going on 17), and started out with this:
Since then I like to think that I've matured quite a bit--at the least I've moved on from internet-speak to a full use of the English language. I kept this log for over two years, leaving it only for another LiveJournal account which followed me (pretty actively) through my junior year of college, and then less frequently into my senior year. Towards the end I used it solely to complain about my thesis, brag about my cooking skills, and post pictures of pretty things that I wanted. Either way, this one started out quite differently than the first:
I had clearly moved into the field of correct spelling and grammar, but still refused to completely conform to: punctuation, spacing, and any sort of consistent language use. Through the middle of this account I started keeping an additional log of thoughts that I didn't share with the internet; I kept a simple text document of quickly-typed diary entries, which I wrote in when I was too worked up to write short blurbs in my physical (dare I say analog) sketchbook--which is mostly words, as I cannot draw or paint. (This document currently resides in a "random" file, piled in with "School Work," and hastily named "running log.")
Wait, wait, wait. Let me say first that it is terrifyingly strange to realize that computers really do have a better memory that humans; I checked the timestamps of this file, and another with an identical name, and they don't even remotely match what my brain told me...
Secrets have been kept from me that I forgot I was keeping--here's a brief gem of teenage angst and disappointment:
from August 2005, I was just going into my senior year of high school:
and from September 2006, I had just started college and was wrestling with feelings of love for a close friend:
This later document only follows my emotionally-trying romantic attempts of freshman year, but for some reason I remember it in a different light...It's times like these where I realize, again, that the brain is truly a weird place.
But what does any of this, really any of this, have to do with who I am now? I exist as these words stored in my computer and still posted on the internet, never to be truly erased and never to be revisited, except by me every few months for a false sense of nostalgia for some former imprint of my younger self. Who am I now? Clearly none of these poorly-informed, emotionally-charged, self-important nerds...
Well now that I put it that way, of course I'm still all of these people--except that I'm not.
If I were to summarize, without citing any of my other existences--facebook, twitter, flickr, livejournal, myspace, carbonmade, jpg, last.fm, polyvore, or deviantart--I'm a 22 year old who wishes she had one more real summer left before facing prison guards in the "Legends of the Hidden Temple" of the publishing world. All I want to do is find the pieces of the Silver Monkey, but the first guard took my Pendant of Life; I still have a half left, and hopefully will find the other half along the way.
well i finally gave in and hadda get myself a live journal...this will prolly be boring and no one will prolly read it but lately i've needed a place to vent and the wall isnt helping me get thru anything. well i dun have too much to write about right now....and if i do have no words to express it so i guess i'll write something later..
Since then I like to think that I've matured quite a bit--at the least I've moved on from internet-speak to a full use of the English language. I kept this log for over two years, leaving it only for another LiveJournal account which followed me (pretty actively) through my junior year of college, and then less frequently into my senior year. Towards the end I used it solely to complain about my thesis, brag about my cooking skills, and post pictures of pretty things that I wanted. Either way, this one started out quite differently than the first:
bonjour.
i needed to start new with everything including my livejournal.
welcometome
hopeyouenjoytheride
I had clearly moved into the field of correct spelling and grammar, but still refused to completely conform to: punctuation, spacing, and any sort of consistent language use. Through the middle of this account I started keeping an additional log of thoughts that I didn't share with the internet; I kept a simple text document of quickly-typed diary entries, which I wrote in when I was too worked up to write short blurbs in my physical (dare I say analog) sketchbook--which is mostly words, as I cannot draw or paint. (This document currently resides in a "random" file, piled in with "School Work," and hastily named "running log.")
Wait, wait, wait. Let me say first that it is terrifyingly strange to realize that computers really do have a better memory that humans; I checked the timestamps of this file, and another with an identical name, and they don't even remotely match what my brain told me...
Secrets have been kept from me that I forgot I was keeping--here's a brief gem of teenage angst and disappointment:
from August 2005, I was just going into my senior year of high school:
for the first time in forever i'm comfortable with me. but it scares me to death to think that i could lose even that at the drop of a hat.
being back in glen cove and sliding back into the same old routines is making me realize that if i don't hold on tight to these last remaining threads of what i've stitched together this summer theyre going to fall apart and forget they were every held close to one another. i feel like im searching for some universal glue that will gloss over everything and make it last forever. never fading. never wearing. never faltering. never breaking.
and from September 2006, I had just started college and was wrestling with feelings of love for a close friend:
and it's back to normal. as if we never happened. as if it were this time last year where we'd see movies and hang out and nothing would come of it. right when i was comfortable enough to like him (unfortunately love this time around) he's gone.
This later document only follows my emotionally-trying romantic attempts of freshman year, but for some reason I remember it in a different light...It's times like these where I realize, again, that the brain is truly a weird place.
But what does any of this, really any of this, have to do with who I am now? I exist as these words stored in my computer and still posted on the internet, never to be truly erased and never to be revisited, except by me every few months for a false sense of nostalgia for some former imprint of my younger self. Who am I now? Clearly none of these poorly-informed, emotionally-charged, self-important nerds...
Well now that I put it that way, of course I'm still all of these people--except that I'm not.
If I were to summarize, without citing any of my other existences--facebook, twitter, flickr, livejournal, myspace, carbonmade, jpg, last.fm, polyvore, or deviantart--I'm a 22 year old who wishes she had one more real summer left before facing prison guards in the "Legends of the Hidden Temple" of the publishing world. All I want to do is find the pieces of the Silver Monkey, but the first guard took my Pendant of Life; I still have a half left, and hopefully will find the other half along the way.
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