I feel obligated to warn my loyal readers (Dad) that I will not be posting much this weekend as I won’t be around a computer. But fear not, I will return on Monday with stories, laughs, and all around jubilation to share with you. So take care, and try not to miss me too much.
Ok, you will be happy to know the crabby pants are off! (Not as scandalous as it sounds.)
But anyway, today was a good day. And a day for a new life lesson:
Life lesson #101: Be brave. Speak up.
This is based on our most recent intern lunch, where we sat down with the EIC, executive editor, and CEO of our company. Talk about your head honchos.
I always get a little nervous around people like that, especially when it’s a company I want to work for (badly), but I decided to speak up this time, and I think I managed to sound mostly coherent. So yay for bravery!
Also, I don’t know if you noticed, but the life lessons have exceeded 100. WHERE WILL THEY STOP?!?!?!
I think when I get a job. Then I’ll be a real adult, so I will have achieved some level of success, implying that I’ve learned. Thoughts? Questions? Concerns?
So I guess it had to happen sooner or later. I had my first bad day since I moved here. So much for being lucky.
I feel like a total whiner even complaining about this, though, because it’s not like anything in my life is inherently bad. It’s not. I’m being a whiner. I know.
Even so, today has just been one of those days where I’m in a funk and can’t seem to get out. Trapped in a funk. And not the good kind of funk, where there’s dancing and stuff. The lousy kind. Here’s a run-down of the day:
Everything started out fine. The weather was actually decent even. I finished two sidebars for work this morning, but after that I didn’t really have that much to do. Then one of my contacts completely turned on me and started attacking my eye, so I had to throw it away.
Walking around with only one contact doesn’t sound like a big deal, but can seriously throw off your whole day. The weird part is, it feels like gauze or something is over the eye without the contact because everything is fuzzy. Anyway, it throws off my depth perception and makes me feel like I’m walking in a dream or something. It’s just no good.
Then I got an email telling me that I was in the final dozen or so applicants for an internship I would have loved, but that I hadn’t been selected. It was heartbreaking. (Thus the most recent life lesson, #100.)
Then I had to go out in the muggy weather to pick up three cakes with one other person. Yes, the math is: 2 interns + 3 cakes + 3 cake stands + 4 blocks of Manhattan = Wowza. I mean, it got done, but now I’m all sweaty and my arms hurt and whine whine whine.
You see what I mean? Even I’m annoyed by my pessimism right now.
So I’m trying to think happy thoughts. For example, this adorable, typography-inspired necklace. That makes me happy.
Also, we get to meet the co-founders of The Knot tomorrow. And get free pizza. All of these things rule. So I just need to take off my crabby pants and turn my frown upside-down and whatever other cutesy ways I can think of to say, “Shake it off, Blanchard!”
This is going to seem so random since it’s only just barely summer, but today I got really excited about fall being on its way.
I know what you’re thinking: “Justine, by that logic, you should be excited all the time because technically fall is always on its way.” (Side note: All of those italics/unitalics are a major bee-yotch in HTML.)
And maybe you’re right. The world is continually turning its merry little way towards Autumn. But you know what? I don’t care. I’m excited, and that’s that.
Because I love fall. Like, want to wrap myself up in it and never let go. This is why I plan to get married in October. (Oh come on, you’re not surprised I have that planned out, too.)
Think about it: What other season lets you wear sweaters, boots, scarves, and hats; eat pumpkin flavored ANYTHING; has the prettiest trees; and has just enough crispness to the air that you’re pretty sure anything could happen?
Not your milquetoast spring, that’s for sure.
I always feel like something exciting is going to happen to me in the fall. I mean, sure, usually it turns out to just be a feeling and nothing actually happens, but sometimes that feeling is all you really need to FEEL ALIVE.
Am I right?
So I’m excited about fall. I feel like something exciting is going to happen to me. And I can’t wait to see what.
On any given day, I get roughly 6 to 8 songs stuck in my head at some point.
Sometimes it will just be for a few minutes, other times for hours at a time. For example, here is today’s lineup (with triggers):
1. You’re just too good to be true (a side effect of looking at engagement photos)
2. Going to the Chapel (a photographer quoted this in a caption)
3. At Last (Alex, another Knot intern, mentioned this song)
4. You’re Just Too Good to be True (again. Because of looking at engagement photos. Again.)
5. It’s Getting Hot in Here (the person responsible for this knows who he is)
6. Somewhere Out There (related to the last one…as hard as that is to believe.)
7. Breakfast at Tiffany’s (Tiffany engagement rings)
The last one I was kind enough to share with two of the other interns as we walked to the subway after work. They soon found that they also could not get it out of their heads. They were oddly not grateful that I had shared. Go figure.
The point is, I lead a very musical existence. It’s just not intentional. And apparently entirely out of my control. And I said, “Well, that’s one thing we got.”
Babysitting may be one of the best gigs out there.
Last night I sat for an editor at one of my former internships. She has two insanely adorable boys and lives in a cute neighborhood in Manhattan. If that wasn’t enough, it also paid really well and she and her husband left me money to order in dinner. Basically, the greatest thing ever.
The only downside? I’m left coveting their awesome apartment/life. Win some, lose some.
What I’m saying is, I think I may have pursued the wrong career path.
New York is full of characters. That’s one of the most delightful – although at times alarming – aspects of it.
Most of my friends have already heard the quaint little tale about the subway man who offered to “send me some music” last summer (if you haven’t, ask me sometime. It’s pretty funny.), but I’m proud to say that I have a new story to add to the lexicon of bizarre New York interfaces. Here goes:
So a couple of days ago I was meeting a friend in Washington Square Park. Those of you familiar with the park know that it really isn’t too surprising that one should have a run-in with a less than savory character, but since this was the first time I’d ever spent a lengthy amount of time there, I had no idea what I was about to meet.
So there I was, sitting on a bench by the fountain, reading, minding my own business, etc. I didn’t really notice the gentleman to my right because he was engaged in conversation with a girl on his other side, when all of a sudden he gestures at me and says, “Like her, she’s from Atlantis.”
Naturally, my first thought was not that he was referring to the lost, underwater city of Atlantis. Seeing as how, you know, it’s not exactly what you would call…real. I thought maybe he meant “Atlanta” or some other existing city that should happened to share the moniker of the fabled city.
Without thinking it through, I immediately responded, “I’m not from Atlantis.”
This sent the man in a diatribe about the “arrogance of youth” and how I was “only in grade school” but I was “telling him what was what.”
Of course, this just isn’t true. He was literally wrong about everything. I wasn’t arrogant, I just wasn’t a mermaid. And I wasn’t in grade school. But, not really wanting to engage him further, I decided not to respond. At this time, the other girl chose to make her escape. We shared a brief look that very clearly said, “Dear lord, this guy is totally crazy.” Then she bolted. I thought about leaving, but seeing as how I had to meet my friend here and would just have to sit somewhere else within eyeshot of this guy, and he didn’t seem dangerous per se, I decided to just tough it out. Heck, I thought, maybe I’ll get a good story out of this!
The man started to tell me how he was alive in the time of King Tutankhamen (yes, like King Tut. The Egyptian pharaoh. This guy said he was in Tut’s family.), and how he owned a recording studio, and that was his legacy. And how I should look him up on Facebook or MySpace, and his MySpace had four of his hit songs on it. I should listen. He also kept telling me I was special. It wasn’t as creepy as it sounds, but the way he said it implied he wasn’t really referring to me, Justine, sitting on this bench in 2009.
Not wanting to upset him, I laughed at his jokes and tried not to let my demeanor reveal that I thought he was absolutely nuts. Eventually he got up to leave (after leaving me with his email, full name, and MySpace URL). He asked me my name, I smiled calmly and made something up. He reiterated that I was special, then started to walk away.
I thought I was in the clear, when he suddenly stops, turns back and says, “You sunk Atlantis.”
Mildly stunned by this news, I laughed awkwardly, and he turned and finally left.
Nothing like finding out you’re responsible for the destruction of a mythical city to brighten your day.