My One Year Anniversary

Can you believe it? It has been a full year since I moved back to the USA. I don't know if it feels like I just moved back yesterday, or if it feels as though I have been back in the States for years.

In one year my sister was accepted to Alvin Ailey (her audition was on 12/12), moved to New York City, got her learner's permit, transferred to Joffrey Ballet School and moved into a dorm room (without parental supervision) in Greenwich Village.

In one year my brother graduated from college, got an awesome job, moved to Wyoming and somehow became a grown-up.

My other brother, in one year, worked his tail off, spent his 13th summer at camp as a counselor and started going back to school.

My father moved to Abu Dhabi.

My mother has cleaned out the basement and the attic, replaced the roof, visited her three children in new homes and I'm sure I'm missing things...

Wilbur lost 7 pounds.

Tupper started eating a new brand of dog food.

As for me, I have lived in NYC, Saratoga Springs, and Madison. I worked in an amazing bakery and as a cabbie for models in Manhattan. I dabbled in online dating and snagged myself a fantastic boyfriend. Yes, friends I have boyfriend. I have a wonderful job that I am enjoying more and more every single day. I ran two half-marathons, raised a lot of money for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, turned 25 and got bangs.

As I mentioned earlier, on one hand I think oh my gosh, has it already been one year? But on the other hand I can't help but think, all of this stuff... it's only been one year?

Happy 12/12/12!

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Happy Aaron Rodgers Day!

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Happy Hump Day!

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Happy Anniversary!

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Whatever you are celebrating, happy day to you!

 

Me? I'm celebrating wonderful memories from abroad, great opportunities in the US, and fantastic friends all over the world.

Two Cents

This morning I received a telephone call from my dad's BFF.  I usually refer to him as my dad's boyfriend, but for those of you that don't know my dad, or know that he isn't gay, I'll call him his BFF.

I was extremely embarrassed when he called me at 9:30 this morning and I was still asleep.  In my defense, I went to the midnight showing of The Hunger Games and didn't arrive home until 4 am, but I was embarrassed nonetheless.  The BFF called to congratulate me on my job offers and offer me his two cents, as I had asked for.

He told me that if it were him, he would choose the job requiring travel.  He went on to explain that I am young and without commitments (read: single) and the Madison winters can be brutal.  He said I would probably enjoy and appreciate getting out of the city during the winters and exploring other parts of the country.  He also said that the traveling job would be a great resume builder.  He had a similar position when he was younger and gained a lot from it.  The money would also be a factor in his decision, but as he gave his reasoning, it seemed more like an afterthought than anything else.

I thanked the BFF for his input, and apologized again for being lazy and asleep so late.  He said if he weren't working, he would still be asleep as well.  I'm not sure if that made me feel better or worse, but I thanked him for his help and said goodbye.

When I pressed "end" on the call I was thrown back to square one.  As I digested what the BFF had told me, I realized that I wasn't, in fact, back at square one at all!  Everything he said were things I had considered, but things I had decided against on my own.  His two cents was worth a heck of a lot more than a couple pennies.  His two cents helped me to realize what I really want in my life now.

As exciting as the travel seemed, I have been doing that for years now.  It sounds far more exciting for me to move to a city and really start my life there.  After I graduated from Tulsa in 2008, I lived in Saratoga for five months before traveling with Garvey.  After an August and September back in Saratoga I moved to Thailand.  I traveled throughout southeast Asia during my time there, and moved back to Saratoga in December, and then New York City in January.  Right now, the last thing I want is to travel.  The idea of living in an apartment half the time and out of a suitcase half of the time doesn't sound so great.  Coming home and always having an empty refrigerator does not sound ideal.  Instead, I want to know Madison.  I want to join a kickball team.  I want to have a favorite bar.  I want to make friends.  I want to join a book club.  I want to date.  I want to have a full fridge.  I want to have a social life.  I want to bake.  A lot.

I'm choosing grocery store frequent shopper points over frequent flyer miles.  Thanks, Mike!

Two Weeks

My stomach hurts.  And it isn't from tonight's corned beef an cabbage at Aunt Patty's house- that was delicious.

My head hurts.  The Advil didn't help.  This is a pain from deep within my brain.  I think it hurts from racing in circles for the past two weeks.  What if I get the job?  What if I don't get the job?  Do I think I will get the job?  Do I think I won't get the job?  My mind is spinning.

My eyes hurt.  It hurts to hold them open, but it hurts to close them.  The sockets of my eyes are throbbing.

My throat hurts.  Not the hurt that makes it painful to swallow, but the pain that accompanies a lump in your throat.  This is the kind of pain you experience when something goes down the wrong pipe, but doesn't go completely down.

My back hurts.  It's partially from running.  It's partially from running with old sneakers.  I promised to buy myself new ones when I get a job.  Part of the pain is the stress of sitting at my awkward desk, obsessively checking my email inboxes.  The rest of the pain is from stress.  Down and back, Meaghan. Put your shoulders down and back.

My heart hurts.  It has been racing since Friday morning, the day when I expected to receive a phone call.   Even though I knew I wouldn't receive the call over the weekend, my heart didn't get the memo.  Now it is tired of pounding out of my chest.  It has been a long weekend.

Tomorrow I should get the call.  Should.  But I thought I would receive the call on Friday, and I was wrong.  Tomorrow will be two weeks.  At the interview he said two weeks.  Tomorrow is the day.  The seconds feel like minutes.  The hours feel like days.  These have been the longest two weeks of my life.

Rejection Stings

I don't care how you slice it, what spin you put on it, or how much you sugar coat it, rejection stings.

For as long as I can remember I have had an unhealthy fear of rejection. I say unhealthy because it has limited me. My fear has kept me from doing things, saying things, and trying things. I have only recently accepted this fear as just that. In the past I wouldn't have known how to classify or describe it, but now, I can confidently say that rejection scares the bejesus out of me.

At the risk of sounding as though I am bragging, I think a big part of the reason I am petrified of rejection is because I haven't had much experience with it.  When I think back through the years, I see a consistent pattern of not being rejected.  I was accepted to honors classes.  I was a top rower during high school and recruited by multiple universities.  I was accepted to the two universities I applied to.  I was hired by all the jobs I applied to after I graduated.  I was accepted by CIEE to teach in Thailand.  It felt easy.  

Fast forward to the real world in the USA.

I am applying to jobs left and right.  And, while I know that unemployment is currently at 8.3%, I really thought I wouldn't be in that percentage.  Yes, I have a part time job driving, but it is not paying the bills.  I need a full- time, dependable job with a consistent paycheck.  Heck, I sent in an application to Whole Foods in hopes of being hired!  And, no, I haven't heard back from them yet.  


In January I wrote a blog post about not receiving an interview for a position I was very interested in.  It stung.  I was new to the job search, and hoped things would get better.  With more practice and more time, I thought I would eventually find the right job.  Well, it doesn't work that way.  Yesterday I received another email that went something like, "after careful consideration we have decided not to move forward with your candidacy."  And another one bites the dust.

Shoot.  


Even after multiple rejections and failed attempts at being hired, it still stings.  


Gosh, and I didn't even get into being rejected by men!  That's for another post.

An Interview

I applied on a whim. My parents were at a party, talking to another couple and discussing their children. When my parents spoke of me and my ongoing search for a job the man chimed in. He mentioned his daughter, a medical software company, an interview, and the rest was history.

As I did my online research I discovered that despite my mother's assumptions, there are not offices located throughout the country. Instead, there is one office. That office happens to be located pretty much smack dab in the middle of the country, and not in NYC. I continued with the application process, unconcerned with the location. Any interview, or application for that matter, is a learning experience, so I forged on. Updating the resume, writing a new cover letter, saving in non-Mac formats and submitting online took me hours. I answered the questions with slight disbelief. They asked for my SAT scores and final GPA from university. How was I to remember my SAT score? I took that test 8 years ago... Wow, I feel old. I answered to the best of my memory, made a little wish, and pushed submit.

Immediately I received an email. I hesitantly clicked on the link to find a form message, thanking me for the submission. I should have known. I let out a sigh and stepped away from the screen.

Three days later I received another email. It asked me to take an online test to continue with the application process. I followed the prompts and began my exam which was slated to take between 20 and 40 minutes. I started with the questions, which seemed surprisingly similar to what I could remember as SAT questions. The questions, however, were interspersed with statements regarding my personality. I was forced to choose between four statements, which would be the most true about me. Even if all of the statements sounded nothing like me, I had to choose. The next screen showed me the remaining three options, forcing me to choose between them, and so on. When the test was completed I was relieved. But I was also intrigued.

Two days later, another email. This time it was a request for a phone interview. I scheduled the interview for the following week and set a reminder on my calendar.

The telephone conversation felt like just that: a conversation. The woman I spoke to was engaging, kind and wonderful to talk to. She verified scores, GPAs, and dates, but mostly, we spoke. She asked about Thailand. I asked about living in the middle of the country. She asked about my strengths, weaknesses and dreams. I asked about the available jobs.

Two days later I received another phone call. It was a new woman. She said, "your resume came across my desk, and since you will be coming out for a live interview I was wondering if you would be interested in also considering a second position. While you are here you will be able to hear and learn more about it and also interview for it." Stay calm, Meaghan. You didn't know you got the live interview, but this is great. Accept. I kindly thanked the woman, told her I would be more than happy to interview for a second position, and walked back into the restaurant to finish my glass of wine with Heather.

Monday I received another phone call.  Another woman.  Another resume-came-across-my-desk-would-you-consider-another-position conversation.  I stayed calm, cool and collected, and gladly accepted.  I had yet to receive a phone call or email asking me to go out for a live interview, but after the second phone call, it seemed to be more of a technicality.

Within a few days, my flights were booked.  The only problem, was my flights were booked for the Sunday after the bachelorette party.  I was forced to take the midnight bus to Chinatown.

In a way, it was a blessing in disguise.  I arrived to NYC just after 6 am on Sunday morning.  I was able to enjoy a few hours and a delicious breakfast with Kiki, my mom, and Erin before I jumped on the shuttle to the airport.

I had a direct flight and arrived before 5 pm on Sunday evening.  I went out to dinner with a friend from college and a friend from Thailand, Cait, who was kind enough to drive 3 1/2 hours for dinner!  It was a great night, but an early one, because I had an interview to rest up for.

We had to take the typical Thai photo!

I left the hotel at 7:45 Monday and spent the day interviewing, until I was in a cab at 4 pm for my flight back to New York.  It was an excruciatingly long day, but it was great!  I had three different position overviews, three different interviews, made one presentation, and took multiple assessments, but I made it through.  And, I think I did an okay job, if I do say so myself.

I am currently waiting to hear back from the company, but I should hear by the end of the week.  Fingers crossed!

Every Job Must Begin With An Interview

Every job must begin with an interview, and my job was no exception.  My job, however, began with -hands down- the most ridiculous interview ever.

About three weeks ago Uncle Bill put me in touch with a friend of his that does marketing for GM.  I called the guy, per his request.  He immediately told me he was interested in meeting me and asked if I would be available the following Wednesday to come to the office.  I checked my nonexistent schedule and told him I would be delighted.  He promised to call on Tuesday to firm up the details.

Just as he promised, Phillipe, as we will call him, rang me on Tuesday afternoon.  I was walking to get a late lunch with Nicole, who was in town for the Knicks game.  He asked if I was still available to go to the office and I answered yes, without even pretending to check my appointment book.  He asked me to meet him at the East Village Meat Market between 7:45 and 8 am.  I repeated his instructions aloud, to help me remember, said goodbye, thanked him, and put my telephone back in my pocket.  I quickly wrote a note for myself with the time and location.

The next morning I woke up over an hour before my alarm, thrilled to have the opportunity for an interview.  I showered, dressed professionally, ate breakfast and headed out the door.  I planned to walk to our meeting place.  According to Google Maps it would take me less than 30 minutes, but I left just after 7.  With heels and nerves, I wasn't sure how long the trip would take, and I definitely didn't want to be late.  I arrived at the corner of 9th and 2nd to find that the meat market wasn't on the corner.  I had assumed it would be, thinking Phillipe would simply be driving by, and pick me up.  I stood in front of the meat market, noticing it was open, and waited.

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About ten minutes later a small black Buick parked across the street from me and Phillipe got out of the car.  We shook hands and I followed him into the meat market.  What?

Phillipe shook hands with the men behind the counter who immediately realized what they had forgotten.  In his thick Polish accent the owner said, "Oh no!  I forgot!  I saw the girl standing out front, and I forgot what I was supposed to be doing!"  Phillipe answered, "you sat there checking out the girl I'm interviewing and forgot my meat?  Okay, okay, but please hurry.  I need to get this to Frank."

Seriously, what had I gotten myself into?  An early morning run to the meat market?  Being checked out my the Polish meat man?  Were heels too much for this interview?

Phillipe turned to me, apologized and asked if I smoked, he was going to go outside for a cigarette.  I politely declined, but immediately regretted it.  For the first time in my life I had the urge to smoke.  I wanted a cigarette to take the edge off.  That's what they are said to do, right?

I waited in the meat market, watching the Polish men slice unidentifiable meat after unidentifiable meat.  Phillipe came back in and began barking orders.

"Oh, come on!  We are going to need more than that."

"Don't hold back on me."

"That's not enough!"

"Half a pound?!  No way!  Give me at least two pounds!"

There was definite sarcasm in his voice, which gave me hope, but what was so special about this meat?

Then came the sausages.

Racks and racks of sausages were picked through before Phillipe committed to the perfect sausages.

Phillipe asked me for help with the bread, but quickly decided on whole grain, sourdough and olive loaves on his own.  Phillipe eyed the doughnuts in the corner and asked if I wanted one.  I could tell it was oozing with something fruity and said "no thank you."  He tried to get one for me, but with the smell of meat and cigarettes, I couldn't even imagine trying to eat a doughnut.  I declined again.  The owner threw a free babka into one of the bags.

As each cut of meat was punched into the manual register, the bags were filled and double bagged.  When the total rang $367 Phillipe quickly turned over his American Express.  The Polish man looked at the card, and told him that they couldn't accept it- only Visa or MasterCard.  Phillipe sarcastically criticized him, telling him he was too cheap to pay the fees, but found another credit card.  Within seconds we were out the door, with our bags of meat and about 12 feet of sausages.

We put the meat in the trunk, jumped in the car and raced to New Jersey.

On the trip to New Jersey Phillipe explained the meat.  Thank goodness!

The company has a very good relationship with Consumer Reports, and about every six months they bring them lunch.  The East Village Meat Market is known to have the best Polish meats in the city, and the people at Consumer Reports love it.

Okay, I was feeling a little bit better.  I was beginning to think this "small office" I was headed to was filled with Fred Flinstone- types, prepared to chow down on the massive piece of ham on the bone that was sitting in the trunk, without using silverware.

We arrived at the office, popped the trunk, and did the trade-off, putting the nearly $400 worth of meat in the next trunk.  Frank walked out of the office, looking disheveled.  His belt was twisted, his pants were falling down a little, and his shirt was wrinkled, but he was nice.  He shook my hand, got into his car and headed to Consumer Reports for a feast.

Phillipe and I went into the office.  He and Evan are the two owners of the company, and the only ones in the office.  The two recently purchased the company from Frank, but as far as I could see, Frank is still around.  Phillipe took out his doughnut and babka, sharing with Evan, and offering me some again.  Evan then offered me orange juice.

I sat there with my orange juice, the two of them with Polish baked goods, and we talked about work.  Within minutes, they were making copies of my license, and I was hired.

I am now a part- time driver.  I bring cars to and from various journalists and reporters throughout the northeast, with hopes of working my way up the ranks of the car industry.  My first day on the job I was able to drive the brand new Buick Verano!

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As a girl that LOVES cars, this could work for me!  Thanks, Uncle Bill!

Just What I Needed!

Everything has been bugging me.  My headphones won't stay in my ears.  The wind blows my hair everywhere.  As soon as I do the dishes my hands are completely dried out.  I reapply lotion, and then I have gross lotion-y hands.  My nose keeps running.  Erin has been sniffling.  Erin's new backpack is still sitting on the dining room table.  Erin didn't do her dishes last night.

Oh, I could go on.

But, the point is, everything under the sun is bugging me.  Heck, even the sun is bugging me.  Whether it's too sunny or it isn't sunny enough, it's bugging me.  But, I am aware that I am the problem.  A sunny day?  Having to put lotion on my hands?  Come on, I'm the problem here.

I have spent way too much time in front of my computer looking for a new website I haven't already scoured for jobs.  I have spent way too much time in a small apartment.  I have spent way too much time not having adult conversations and interactions.  And, I have spent way too much time with my sister.

The phone call I just received was exactly what I needed!

Last week I went to a job interview, thanks to Uncle Bill.  The owner of the company was more than kind and told me that things are a bit slow at the moment, but he would be in touch with me towards the end of the month for some part-time opportunities.  I was thrilled!

About forty- five minutes ago, he called me, and surprise!  He needs me tomorrow!  Woo hoo!

Tomorrow morning at 8 am I have a place to be!  I have something to do!  And the icing on the cake.... I am going to make money!

Just what I needed.

Oh, and while we were on the telephone, he said he received my thank- you note, it was very kind, and he appreciated it.  A handwritten thank- you note works magic!

Mehhh

That is how I feel right now.  Very mehhh.

It is my eleventh day living the city, and this is the first day I feel like this.  I'm a little bit frustrated with the job search and a little bit frustrated with life in general.  I am incredibly grateful to have the opportunity to be living in NYC.  And I am even more grateful to be living in an apartment and not worrying about rent.  But, this isn't me.

I don't want to be dependent.  I strongly dislike depending on my parents to pay the rent right now.  I strongly dislike depending on my sister to give me something to do every day.  But more than anything, I am disliking the lack of structure I have in my life right now.  Other than picking Erin up from ballet every day, I have nothing to do.  I spend a lot of time on my computer job huntin', but there is no time requirement or schedule that comes with that.  Oh, and I have been reading A LOT.  It has been great, but it also lacks a schedule.

I envy the people in a hurry, rushing to meetings and appointments.  I want to set my alarm in the morning and have a reason to wake up at that time.  I am sure there are plenty of you reading this blog, envious of my lack of schedule, structure, obligations in general, but I'm tired of it.  I quit my job at Anuban Khon Kaen last July.  And aside from a few more weeks of The American After School Program and tutoring, I have been happily unemployed since.  I spent plenty of time traveling and enjoying my life and friends in Thailand, but I'm not in Thailand anymore.

I become bored easily.  I have loved every second of being unemployed thus far, but I'm ready for the next thing.

So, today was tough.  I didn't receive any of the emails or phone calls I was hoping for.  I didn't have a schedule to adhere to.  I wandered the streets of NYC, watching as the rest of the population raced through the city.  I was jealous.

Luckily, I was forced out of my mehhh mood because it is Erin's birthday!

Happy Sweet 16!  (Sorry you can't drive...)

Erin's best friend Maddie and I surprised her after ballet.  I came armed with a best friend, a balloon and a crown, it was bound to be good.  The three of us headed to Ellen's Stardust Diner for a loud, and slightly embarrassing dinner with singing.  It was just what she (and I) needed.

Opening presents at midnight.  I was already in bed, and Erin wouldn't take "no" for an answer, so presents were opened at the foot of my bed. 

Chex Mix and baked goodies from Ellie

COLORFUL throw pillows for the couch

And fuzzy penguin pajamas.  Classic.

A crown, a balloon and an Brownie Explosion Sundae (on the house!)

He sang to her and fed her.  Is this Forno?

Rockin' a balloon on the subway.  NBD.

And a group effort Sweet 16 cake!  The cake was baked by Mom (no oven... remember?), frosted by Meaghan and decorated with candles from Mom and Ellie.  That's teamwork.

"Unfortunately....

"Unfortunately, we will not be able to extend an interview to you at this time."


Shoot.  


I received this email in my inbox yesterday afternoon, and it was a total bummer.  There was something about this job that sounded so perfect and right, and I was perfectly qualified for it as well!  But, unfortunately, they were not able to extend an interview to me.  


Well, it's on to the next thing.


I just got off a very promising phone call, so keep your fingers crossed for this one!  I have an interview next week.... yay!

Job Huntin'

Job searching.  Finding a job.  Looking for a job.  Job seeking.  Nope, I am not doing any of those things.  Ladies and gentlemen, I am job huntin'.  And you have to say it with a deep southern accent, when you swallow the middle part of the word.  Job huntin'.  That's what I'm doing.

I have officially lived in New York City for five days.  Five whole days is beyond the amount of time you can count in hours, and therefore, I live here.  And while Erin and I have taken part in a variety of activities and accomplishments throughout the city, unfortunately, I have spent a large amount of time in front of my computer.  Bummer.  Yes, I have been working on my resume, cover letters, applications, and huntin' for jobs in general.  My recent google searches include: "how to write an awesome cover letter," "include in cover letter," "format resume," "jobs in nyc," and "thesaurus.com."  My next searches will probably be along the lines of "free things to do in nyc" and "living in nyc on a budget."  And depending on how long this unemployment lasts I may begin searching "making blogging a profession."

But, all is not lost.

Thanks to Allison and Stephen I had two phone interviews today.  Score!  I also just submitted an application for a position that could be pretty darn perfect, and surprisingly enough, I am qualified for!

For the time being I am going to continue applying here, there and everywhere and sending good vibes out into the universe.  I'm not into all that hippy dippy stuff, but in this waiting game, sometimes there isn't a whole lot more you can do.

Now that my brief blogging break is over, I'm back to job huntin'.  Anyone need an outgoing, intelligent and hardworking employee in NYC?  She has a pretty rockin' blog...