Girl and City

Every time I do not get a job, I wonder what I did wrong. It’s not unlike being rejected for a second (or third or fourth) date, except in this case, “It’s not you, it’s me” doesn’t fly¹. Sometimes I think it’s because I didn’t prepare enough for the interview, or I wasn’t energetic enough, didn’t let them see how passionate (read: desperate) I was about getting the job. But most of the time, I settle on the idea that they saw right through my charade, that I wasn’t really in it for the long run, I just wanted to be paid for the summer.

But is it really that bad to not know what I’m meant to do when I’m twenty? I mean, isn’t that the point of these summer internships – to figure out if it’s really for you? And yet if you tell an interviewer that – that you’re not sure if this really is what you want to do, you’re just testing out the waters – they’ll be yelling out “Next” before you can say “Give me a chance.” So, I play by the rules and pretend that I have wanted to be an accountant/financial analyst/marketing specialist/advertising assistant since kindergarten, when every other (normal) kid wanted to be a policeman/woman or a firefighter.

So, inspired by Jamie Ann, I have decided to put together a list of jobs that I know I would enjoy:

• Ice cream/gelato taste tester. With my abundant experience (over six years) in consuming ice cream of varying flavours (from ginger to hazelnut to strawberry rhubarb), I am sure I can discern what will be a hit or a flop. Although, how could anything sweet and creamy be a flop?
• Food critic. Dining at fine restaurants and then ripping into their cooking skills? I can do that. I practically do already. I just need to be paid for it.
• A permanent judge on the Japanese Iron Chef. I’d be much better than those amateur foodies (actors/actresses, voice actors/actresses) they bring in.
• Personal shopper for Carrie-Bradshaw-esque girls. Buying beautiful clothes and shoes and accessories with someone else’s money? And getting paid to do it? Hells yeah!
• Part-time driver. You know how cars don’t function as well if they’ve been sitting idle for a long time? This is of particular concern to people who own fancy little sports cars or expensive manual cars of the European variety. I can drive them! I mean, these people never own less than four cars, so once in a while, I can come by and take one of their cars out for a drive.
• Exclusive purse promoter. Need me to subtly introduce your new limited-stock high-end purse to society (in other words, wear the purse to select shopping meccas in the world)? I can do that. Fab purses, airfare and accommodations to international locations, and the potential to meet some very good-looking people included.

Know anyone who’s hiring?

1. Except when they tell you you’re over-qualified, which hasn’t happened to me yet since I do not even have a bachelor’s. [↩]

Last night, I went to PJ‘s bachelorette party in The City. The theme? Hollywood Glam. I was the only girl who wasn’t wearing lipstick. We hung out at the maid-of-honour’s apartment for a couple hours and played games, then went to dinner. It was a penis-filled night. Some examples:

• Party favours that consisted of: fruit-flavoured penis gummies and a penis straw.
• The penis straw produced many good moments, including my own contributions to penis quotes of the night: “It’s kind of strange to be sucking tequila out of a penis.” “My penis tastes kind of sour.”
• A hole-and-pole game where one blindfolded individual has to poke the pole between her legs into the hole situated between someone else’s legs. My blindfolded partner was terrible at this game and I told her dryly, “You’re poking my thigh.” I guess not unrealistic after all.
• Penis-shaped cupcakes. Our waiter loved these. The bride-to-be’s comment: “Did you notice that we all started licking the head first?”

Other memorable moments while we played “Things”:

• Things not to pick up: STDs.
• Things not to do while naked: fry bacon (or fry anything for that matter); weld.
• Things not to do on your honeymoon: pick up STDs (see above).

(more…)

Last night, BI came into The City and called me up for dinner. I took her to the swankiest part of The City, filled with celeb-spotting patios, over-priced boutiques, and pretentious restaurants, thinking she would enjoy a fancy dinner. But she didn’t feel like a fancy dinner, so we chatted in an espresso bar while we decided where we wanted to go. For most of the next hour, we bitched about our respective jobs/job prospects. I related to her my disastrous interviews with The Advertising Firm and the ludicrous demands of my Not-A-Real-Job. She sympathized with me on the latter and said that her own summer job was similarly ridiculous. It seems that, in the real world, no one really tells you anything, just throws you into the fray and lets you find your own way out. Worse, it seemed like no one gave proper thought to their business, their customers, or their competitors. Neither of our bosses/other superiors had any sense of logic – something you don’t need to have gone to business school to acquire, but apparently unnecessary to make a profit. Our serious academic approach only won sneers from our more experienced co-workers. Welcome to the Real World, their sneer seemed to say.
But we, being the clever girls that we are, are fazed only to the extent that we will rant about it to our friends after work. Which is exactly what we did.
(more…)

I did not spend Me Day unproductively. Are you surprised? I’m not.
As soon as I finished writing that entry, I received a call from the CEO of Not-A-Real-Job asking me to do stuff for him. My direct boss, the Director, had not given me a lot to do. And I couldn’t very well tell the CEO I was taking a Me Day after having been rejected from an interview I never told them about. Which is entirely their fault, actually, because if they were paying me for this internship, I would not be looking for another job so desperately (or at all). But I did not want to tell him what I was doing because I did not want him to think that my getting a full-time day job means I am not committed to his job. Which is the truth. But I did not want to tell him that.

He wanted me to make some marketing materials for a new product, and he wanted it by the end of the day. Kind of a ludicrous demand, since I had not heard anything about this product until he emailed/called me¹. I think the Director purposely did not tell me about this new product launch because he wanted to work on the marketing materials himself. And/or he hates me. My Director must be quite petty if he is competing for projects with his UNPAID INTERN. I mean, honestly, he has nothing to worry about. I don’t want his job. I don’t even want to work for this company. I got roped into this unpaid internship mess before I could say “bite me.” So really, he has nothing to worry about. I’m not sticking around. But I do not tell him that.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day trying to put together a brochure and various other materials for the product. They sent me what they had already – which looked like garbage – so I sent everything back looking nothing like the original (a.k.a much better). But even so, the CEO ignored some of my suggestions. For some reason he really likes gray, despite what I keep telling him about it looking incredibly dull on printed media. Since I’m not in charge of writing the content, I couldn’t change that, but I honestly wanted to (ok, I admit, I did change it a bit. A lot). Because the slogan and the product descriptions and everything on the brochure was just not attractive. The product is targeted at my age group so I should know what’s appealing and what’s not. And their brochure contents were not. But the CEO didn’t take my suggestions. I think this product is going to flop. But I am not telling them that.
(more…)

1. He always emails me and then calls me right after to make sure I received his email. Even if I respond to his email. He is one of those people that are constantly on their Bluetooth headsets yapping away, so I think he calls me just so he can prove to the world that he always has someone to be on the phone with. One time, when he was on the phone with me, he was in the car with his wife and turned to yell at her about something. WHILE I WAS STILL ON THE LINE. Another time, I thought I heard a car accident in the background. I think he’s crazy. Another thought I do not care to tell him. [↩]

I did not get the job at The Advertising Firm. Not that I’m surprised. I could tell the Director didn’t take to me at the second interview. It sucks, a lot, but I do not want to blog about it, because I do not want to be reminded how crushed I was when I found out, and even more upset when I realized that deep down, I knew I did not get it, and yet I waited hopefully and anxiously for a whole week. I do not want to talk about how I cried, just a little, even though I knew I couldn’t blame myself that the Director was distracted, or just didn’t take to me, when he interviewed me. Or maybe I could blame myself because I didn’t wow him enough, didn’t prepare enough – but I don’t want to blame myself because my self-esteem would not be able to take it, at least not in the same day. I do not want to whine about how life isn’t fair, or how I wish it was easier, that things would just work out, magically (and maybe even undeservedly), the way they do to heroines in books. Because that is fiction, and this is not.

No, instead, this entry is about Me day, which, ironically, consists of me taking a break from being me.

For the rest of today, I will lounge around in my pajamas, read something from the pile of books I took out from the library, play with my dog, watch movies, and eat chocolate. I will take a long hot shower, maybe even a bath, and paint my nails. I will be lazy and unproductive. I will not worry about what I’m going to do for the rest of the summer. I will not create a dozen to-do list items. I will do only things that make me happy and not things that I think I should do. Because today is Me day.
I will tell myself, at least for today, that it is okay not to have everything planned out, okay not to have each moment of my life dedicated to closing in on some golden goal. It is okay not to have lofty ambitions, it is okay not to seize the day every day and just go with the flow sometimes. I will believe these things, at least for today, because I cannot keep putting myself out there and getting shot down. I will tell myself that it is okay to fail. Sometimes.

Did I mention I handle rejection very badly?