"Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Huddled Masses" or "Keeping The Faith"

Long story short: I received, and accepted, a job offer today.

But I'm not here to make a long story short, so off we go.

It started a couple of weeks ago with the most terrible interview in the history of terrible interviews. It could only have gone worse if I vomited all over the table that seperated my three interviewers and myself. I left that interview feeling like an enormous putz, and chalked it up to good, if humbling and mortifying, experience.

I continued my job search to no avail. I learned that the possibility of getting an interview for my dream job was not as big as I had hoped, and would only have a chance after the holidays - if then. Still, I prevailed. After being in New York for a couplde of weeks I knew that I wouldn't be leaving without a fight. I scoured the web, asked anyone I could think of to get in touch with anyone they could think of to help me find work. By the way, I learned that people are very willing to offer help, but not so easy to get a real follow-up from.

I went to a temp agency, and worked a big and facy cosmetics conglomerate in Midtown for two days, at $15.00 an hour. That at least gave me some hope that I would be able to make a little of money while continuing to job hunt. And, incidentally, I learned that I never want to work in the cosmetics or fashion industries in this city. Not that I didn't love working with some seriously cold and bitchy young women for a couple of days. And it was really swell feeling like I was contributing to the ridiculous beauty standards that so many of us feel the need to live up to. But, alas, beggars cannot be choosers. And I will take their shoddy P. Diddy cologne revenues all the way to the bank, so long as I can eat for the next week or so.

I began to lose hope. With the economy as it is, and no more calls for interviews despite the fact that I had applied for about a trillion jobs, I was scared. Scared mostly that I would have to move back home and live with my mom, socializing only with her and her two little dogs. Which wouldn't be too bad, but would probably lose its luster quite quickly. And wow, were my funds running low. I've been unemployed once before, and I wasn't living in the most expensive city ever at that point. I could still get a pitcher of beer at Mitch's in Ann Arbor for three dollars or so on a Friday night. Here it's considered a good deal if you can pay ten dollars for a pitcher. Come on!

So I took a stroll on Monday morning. The weather was incredible - about sixty degrees and sunny. It was almost scary, sort of 'The Day After Tomorrow" -esque. Christmas ten days away and I was sweating while sitting still in the sun? That ain't right. I went to Central Park to visit the Angel of Bethesda, which is the most beautiful part of the park. It sits in the center of the big, tiled terrace, and it has this ancient feel - like it's been sitting there since time began. I sat and pulled out an old piece of paper from my bag in order to write. I just needed to get some stuff of my mind. I sat and wrote, and realized that 2008 is almost over. So I thought about what I really want for 2009. I thought about where I was a year ago and all that I've done since then. And I wrote down everything that I want for myself for the next year. I filled an entire page. And instead of taking it with me I fold it up into a skinny wad, I hopped in to the fountain (no water was in it, it being winter and all), and jammed it into a grout-free crack at the base of the angel.

Great. I just learned from the wikipedia page for the Bethesda Terrace that this site is a sanctuary for one of the characters on the show "Gossip Girl" when she is trouble.

So I left my wishes with the angel, asking for her to do some work on my behalf. Because I was doing what I could, but needed a little help. And lo and behold, I got a job offer today.

I received the call this morning, told the deputy director of personnel that I need to think about it and that I would call them back before the end of business on Friday. I celebrated, thought, called everyone important to me, thought some more, and went exploring. I ended up in Battery Park, leaning over a railing and smoking a ciggarette, staring off at the Statue of Liberty of in the distance. And then I called them back, accepted the offer, and then felt a fantastic feeling of relief.

It may not be my dream job. But it will be good. And the job is 70% writing, so that can't be bad. It may be analytical writing, but it's writing nonetheless. And, as part of my training, I get to do a couple of ride-alongs with the NYPD. Now is not the time to be picky, as far as I can tell. And there really is no telling when I will get another job offer.

So I travel back home to Michigan on the 23rd, and I can't wait. I can go back feel only excitement for this next year. My anxieties about finding a job are totally quelled, and all I have to do is enjoy these next couple of weeks before I start my new job.

I knew something good was coming my way!!! Did I not just write a blog post about that?!?! Come on! Very intuitive. Man, this feels good.

Now, all I have to do is get on Cash Cab, and all of my real New York City goals will be accomplished. Well, that and meet the tall, broad-shouldered blonde man that the psychic in Ann Arbor told me that I would have a wonderful connection with. She also told me that I would end up in southeast California... so... maybe she wasn't so cosmically in tune after all.

An overpriced celebratory beer tonight, perhaps? Nothing like a good winter ale. Mmmmhmmm.

Some Folks Like To Get Away/ Take A Holiday From the Neighborhood

I have been in New York for a little over two weeks. Though I have no real reason to think this - I think that this week is going to be a good one. I have a feeling that something is going to work out very much in my favor. I think it will be a job. I just have this little nugget of a premonition.

This city is unbelievable. I knew that I was probably going to like it, because it's New York City and it's the most exciting city in the world. But as soon as I got here I felt like it was the right thing to do and that I belonged here. I live on the Upper East Side - which is just as bougeois as it sounds. I took a stroll down Fifth Avenue a few days after arriving here and felt very out of place amongst the ankle-length fur coatted women and fancy designer stores. Luckily I have my tiny apartment to remind me of what my actual position in this city (and this world) is.

I am so close to broke, it's getting a little frightening. My mom is sending me an early Christmas present in the form of a check, which should get here any day. And it KILLS me to have to accept money from her. I hate asking her for anything, particularly when it is a direct result of my failure to have made anything of my life thus far. So maybe that premonition is more a product of wishful thinking than anything else. Or maybe my anxiety levels had reached such a peak that I actually had nowhere to go but in to positive territory. Or, maybe it's a real, honest-to-goodness premonition and it's just on the very verge of coming true.

Food had taken on these mystical properties. It tantalizes me. I can only afford delicacies such as Spaghettios (with meatballs!), so actual food is something that totures me. I spent Thanksgiving dinner with a couple of acquaintances and their friends (an orphan Thanksgiving - because we had all stayed in the city without parents or family) and I ate until I was ill. It took me 3-4 hours to recover from that meal. I was just so excited to have that food spread in front of me and I knew that I would have anything that delectable until Christmas - if then. Also - I learned that I can whip up some pretty tasty garlic mashed potatoes.

So, I'm starving, I'm broke, I have no personal space, I'm jobless... but I'm happy. And PBS is airing a 1979 Billy Joel concert. I have some job leads to follow up on tomorrow, one of which could potentially lead me to a dream job. I've had a few tearful moments of holy-shit-what-was-I-thinking-I'm-going-to-be-unemployed-for-the-rest-of-my-life terror, but they pass quickly. After a particularly humbling interview on Thursday I cried on the subway and felt certain that I would be destined for failure in everything that I do. But I ate some cheap fast food, took a (long) nap, and have tried to keep my spirits up.

And anyway, I happen to really like Spaghettios. So it's all going to be fine.

So I'm going to curl up on this futon, let Billy Joel sing me to sleep, and hopefully wake up to a call from D.J. (dream job!) in the morning requesting that I come in for an interview. I had my phone screening on Wednesday - which I managed to make it through without sounding like a weirdo/dunce.

And I have coffee to look forward to - it's cheap stuff, but I splurged on tasty creamer. I couldn't resist.