prospects

So I applied for a new job the other week. My current job is in non-profit, and causes me to struggle to pay my New York rent. I've been patiently scanning a certain university's job listings site for a while now, and the perfect job happened to appear. Wonderful salary, good little plate of responsibility. So I applied for it. They called me a week later. I was thrilled. I went in to interview very early Tuesday morning, and spoke with my fantasy-boss for 40 minutes. I don't think it went well. So now I wait patiently for a phone call, or a rejection letter to be dropped in the mail slot. Neither have come yet. I did realize upon examination that not only was there a *typo* in my cover letter, but that I had also included a stealth *typo* in the ps of my thank you letter. Did I mention this job was as a letter writer? And requires excellent attention to detail? AND, the first typo was in a sentence about HOW GOOD I WRITER I AM. Yeah. I have zero prospects.

first time

This is a simple attempt to wake up my writing organ. My journal is hopelessly empty - I've been working on the same one since August 2002, I believe. And I have not recorded enough moments. And I have not written enough words. Help me wake up my intelligent self, internet. Help me.

Tidbits About Me

I'm 26, though I have been forgetting that number lately in my late twenties. I live in Brooklyn. I was born in Queens.

Here are some pictures of me and my older brother; he loves me, really, though he might not show it sometimes. Here are some pictures of my mom; she was quite the looker back in the day. Here are some of my dad. He died a little while ago. This is what my grandmother looked like holding a cigarette -- she didn't smoke.

I have a license but I can't drive; I hate car culture, and I can only imagine myself living in a place where I could exist without a vehicle. Lately I've been thinking about Budapest.

I am compassionate to a fault - I will always try to understand your motivations, even if you're completely out of line. I do not see the world in black and white - everything in the world is grey to me. There are no absolutes. You would not want me on your debate team because I will always see where the other side is coming from.

I have a difficult time relating to cats. I am also highly allergic to them. I am a dog person all the way and believe there are some essential differences between dog people and cat people.

I might use too many semi-colons, but I'm not going to stop: they are my favorite punctuation mark.

I probably walk faster than you do. I can't help this.

I drink tea with milk. I only have coffee after a good meal, ideally with Bailey's. I've also recently discovered how well Bailey's goes with homemade hot chocolate. Yum.

I am very shy and have difficulty in new social situations. If you see me having trouble, be nice to me, ask me a question, give me drink, and I'll be ok.

I procrastinate to the end. It is my worst quality.

I make a very good key lime pie.

I have never broken a bone.

I frequently have dreams about my teeth cracking, crumbling, and falling out. If you have any idea what these dreams mean, email me.

Timeline.

December 5, 1978
I am born. I live in Orange County, NY. I live near a lake and woods. We have a dog named Sandy.

1984
I have my first crush of memory, on a boy in the sixth grade on my school bus named JP. I was in kindergarten (!). I put a pin through his face in my yearbook. Later in the year, I develop a relationship with a boy my age on the bus who asks me to sit on his lap. I do, and he asks me to marry him. When I'm about to give him my answer, he yells, "BABY! Baby sitting on my lap like a BABY!" to everyone on the bus. I am humiliated, and never quite understand his motivation.

1985
We move to Queens, NY, after my parents separate and they sell the house. We live with a few friends of the family for months before finding our own place. I start 1st grade mid-year at P.S. 11. I am threatened by violence by several other six year olds. The city is harsh.

1986
The Challenger explodes and I watch it happen in my first grade classroom; I feel like everyone I know who was in elementary school at this point saw it as well. I start second grade in September at P.S. 229. I meet E., my very best friend for all of elementary school. I start to feel a bit of stability. My grandmother gets hit by a car this year (on Queens Blvd.), by a 16-year old driver with no license and no insurance. She is plagued by dizzy spells and pain for the rest of her life.

March 3, 1987
Grandparents' apartment in Queens destroyed in fire; grandfather dies. Grandmother moves in with us.

1989
I play Titania in our fifth-grade production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It is the last moment I can remember speaking on stage without severe anxiety. Fifth grade was one of the most creative and intellectually stimulating years of my life (seriously).

September 1990
Start 6th grade at I.S. 73, an incredibly overcrowded middle school. Spend all year in fear. I play the flute for a year and feel uncomfortable around my band teacher. I find out that I got into a magnet school in Manhattan.

September 1991
I start at above mentioned school. I don't realize what a mistake this will be for many years. I make my best friend there in the first days by asking her for a pencil. I very quickly learn how differently people at different income levels live in New York.

February 1993
My grandmother dies. She has a heart attack walking back to our house with groceries.

1993
I start to ride the subway to school. I find out quickly what a battleground it can be. I am flashed repeatedly and learn how to get away from men who are standing too close to me. This summer I discover Prodigy and use it to foster my first online love affair and also buy Pearl Jam bootlegs. A little while later I discover the bbs and it really rocks my world.

1995
First kiss.

June 1997
I graduate from high school (I shouldn't have after grave academic negligence, but they don't want to keep me anyhow). I have dreams for years afterward that I have to go back to make up a year. YEARS.

July 1997
I visit the university I will be attending, which is the only one to which I am accepted. I finally find out how big New York State is. I meet people who have an accent I have never heard before.

August 1997
Dad drives me to college. I'm the first person in my family to go.

1999
Discover linguistics, and it is the first time I truly fall in love with an academic discipline and feel I could master it. To date, I still have not pursued this as I sometimes wish I would.

August 2000
Heart broken bad. I recover by dating boys I meet at temp assignments during the summer. I have dinner at my first real fancy restaurant and am incredibly uncomfortable when the wine is poured; I'm not sure what to do.

May 1, 2001
I meet Eric a few weeks before graduation. He'd been watching me on campus for at least 2 years.

May 2001
I graduate college and feel unexpectedly proud. I move home to Queens. I am immortalized as a "top student" at my college on their website, and receive an average of one e-mail a year from someone who recognizes me. Fancy.

July 2001
I take 4 driving lessons with a guy named Vito, and pass my driver's test, though I shouldn't have. To this day I cannot drive.

August 1, 2001
I convince Eric to drive cross country with me. I drive about 70 miles of a 9,000 mile trip. I get a phone call the day we leave with a job offer - I spring for a hotel room at our first stop in Chicago.

September 4, 2001
I start my first real job. It holds the promise of travel, a corporate card, and working with British people. I'm incredibly excited.

September 11, 2001
I sit at my desk and hear plane fly into the WTC. I watch the second one with new co-workers on the corner. I hold my boss's hand for a moment. I embrace another co-worker. I walk uptown, pick up my mom at work, and walk over the bridge to Queens. I spend the next week at home watching television in horror. I feel incredibly lonely.

January 2002
I get flown to London by job. First time abroad ever. First person in my family to travel internationally. I stay in a beautiful hotel and drink on the company tab. I drink a lot with co-workers and call it team-building.

March 2002
I sign the lease with roommate for my first real New York apartment on 3rd Ave. in Brooklyn. Thrilled. I am alone in the apartment for the first month and feel very nervous. I sleep home in Queens many nights until I feel comfortable. I befriend, in a small way, the man who sleeps on our stoop.

November 2002
I come into work and learn I am being let go because of the economic downturn. I am asked to leave office and come back at night to collect my things. I spend the next 7 months unemployed and unproductive.

February 2003
I do take the opportunity to go to Europe with roommate. We visit London, Paris, and Nancy, France. While I'm there, I buy a collar for my new dog Dexter. A few weeks after I get back, we pick Dexter up from a family in New Jersey. I carry him home in my coat; I'm afraid he will pee on me. He doesn't.

March 1, 2003
I move into Eric's apartment to save money. At one point there are 6 of us in a three bedroom, plus Dexter.

June 1, 2003
Move in with girl I found on craigslist in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, NY. I discover a neighborhood I love.

August 4, 2003
I start my new job in non-profit. I'm not sure exactly what to expect.

February 2004
Find out my Dad is dying of pancreatic cancer. I travel by bus to see him every weekend until he passes away. I listen to Iron & Wine on every single bus ride and the music sustains me. Thank you, Sam Beam.

May 29, 2004
Dad dies. I almost immediately realize that there are a hundred things I needed to say to him before he died, but didn't.

July 2004
I start this website to help me sort through my feelings about my Dad and revive my journal writing. I don't get too much accomplished on the former, but make progress on the latter.