Things are lookin' up

So to sort of balance out my last, somewhat depressing post, I will write a positive one (gasp). Today I got all dapper'd up for my interview with GLAAD (for those of you living under a rock, that stands for Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation), for an Entertainment Media internship. Yes, like many other internships, this one is unpaid, which is not the best, considering I need to move the hell out of my brother's house still (nothing's changed there, my door still doesn't close). But I got such good vibes from the whole experience, unlike my interview for a retail job that I royally failed two days ago (shudder). First of all, GLAAD's office is on Wilshire, right outside of Hollywood. How do I know this? Because for my interview, which was on the 15th floor of this awesome building on a road lined with palm trees the length of a football field, I could see the HOLLYWOOD letters on the hillside. I felt like I was living in a dream or something. Like the most cliche, "I'm just a small town girl moving to a big city" kind of dream. Except gayer. Anyway, I met with this wonderful young gay, who commented on how nice I looked (serious props considering LA gay men and fashion), and we had a sort of conference interview with a woman who was the head of volunteer/interns in GLAAD's office in San Francisco. It was a bit awkward at first...I was thinking, who/what do I look at when I answer her questions? The phone? The gay guy? The Hollywood sign? I settled with looking at the phone. She asked me a bunch of questions that I was somewhat prepared for--why I want to work at GLAAD, why I am good for the position, etc etc. Anyway, by the end of the interview, we hung up with the SF lady, and the young gay looked at me, and said something like, "You got it," and then "Just act surprised when she calls you tomorrow and says you got it." I can do that. "Who, ME? You love me! You really love me!"

So that's good. Hopefully I get to start soon. The next step is getting a job that will pay me. Any takers? I'm cute? I like to write? I love the gays?

F you, Pinkberry

So I haven't been keeping up with this thing. My time is mostly spent searching for jobs on mediabistro, journalismjobs.com, monster (which is usually disappointing), and Craigslist when I realize that I need to expand the job search to mediocre jobs that include a Pinkberry employee (I'm pretty sure I would be the most disgruntled, bitter employee in their history...they still haven't gotten back to me), a photographer's assistant (a random dude who asked me to go to his home studio in the valley for an interview...sketchy), and a sales associate at a thrift store. Each day I am gradually losing the feeling of entitlement that I gained from four years at Johns Hopkins. I even got rejected by a soccer mom who needed a chauffeur for her kids after school (apparently it would not be economically worthwhile to take the job if I don't live in Santa Monica).

So when I'm not applying to jobs, walking the dogs, or cooking dinner, I figure I should do some volunteer work. You know, give back. Of course, when it involves free labor, I always get a call back for an interview. Go figure. But I am actually excited to volunteer at the LAGLC. And who knows, maybe it will open some doors.

My brother (who I am living with for the moment) told me a few days ago that I need a job by the end of the month so I can get the hell out of his place. I feel so welcome. Don't my amazing cooking skills vaguely substitute any sort of rent that I could be paying? I guess not. It's not like I really dig living in a tiny room where the door doesn't close all the way. Not an optimum situation for love connections. Maybe I should have chosen New York. Sigh.