and today....
I woke up Wednesday morning all sleep crusted eyes and breath from hell only to have in my head the remnants of the dream I'd been having, which apparently involved me being selected as a fill in for the new season of "Project Runway". Yeah, that expression on your face right now - that's the same one I had. Apparently, since I'd been dating Daniel V, Tim Gunn decided that I would be perfect to fill in when one of the contestants dropped out at the last minute. Kink in this plan - Bill doesn't sew (or so, or any homophone you might conjure up) and passed his theatrical costuming class on simply his good luck and excessive charms. (Much the way he's passed all his classes, to be brutally honest.)
I was on the show, and meeting the contestants, and something about the atmosphere and the way Tim Gunn kept massaging my shoulders made me feel like I could actually win the contest. (please read into that as much as you'd like, it was oddly erotic.) As if I really had a fighting chance... so when the first challenge rolled around, I was eager to get started. I vaguely remember it being very similar to the first challenge in the current season; we had to fashion beautiful clothing from things we found around our apartment or something. As the day progressed, it became very clear to me that I was woefully unskilled in sewing, but for some reason all the contestants kept coming around to me and complimenting me on what a great job I was doing. At the end of the process, I had created a dress that consisted of two huge pieces of cardboard ala a refrigerator box, slung around someone using only yarn. Yellow yarn.
I lost. Needless to say. Or at least I think I did, because I woke up before I got to meet Heidi Klum or Vera Wang, which is a true slap in the face from sleep. (It is just me, or is Vera's sweet, succinct comments really a welcome replacement for Michael Korr's obnoxiousness?)
At any rate, I got up and went to two really fabulous job interviews at local theater organizations - one a national scale producing entity with tony awards on their shelf, the other at an old, reputable non-profit org that would be awesome to work for. Both were excellent interviews, I would love to have either job. The people I interviewed with seemed to really like me and understand my unique skills set - all very encouraging. Until they told me that the salaries are 30,000 a year.
Now, I know that money is a taboo topic, but I want to break that taboo for a minute and ask - what the hell? Who over the age of 22 can live on a mere 30k a year? With student loans, my car payment, rent, etc - I need at least 40 as I creep towards 30 and to be honest, with the experience, skill and references I bring to my next position, 50 isn't out of the question. Its a mad mad mad mad world.
Compounding this - and I'm sure everyone can commiserate - is the fact that it was 1150 degrees outside. Why, oh why am I forced to run around all day in a suit on the days the dew point reaches 85 and the mere act of breathing causes you to sweat profusely? Hard to make a good impression when you look like Buckingham fountain.
I was feeling a little bit depressed from the interviews when my friend Jeremy picked me up and the two of us dashed out to a meeting with our potential client for our consulting business. They are a start up video production house, and focus almost entirely on HD commercials, etc. We had a great meeting; they are fun, hip young guys and have a little bit of money to spend. I think that Jer and I can really help guide their marketing plan and give them a little sense of professionalism in pitching new clients on their products and experience. On my task list tonight is to finish the pitch paper for their perusal. It's exciting - starting your own thing and being "your own boss" - but it's also terrifying as hell and extremely daunting. Thankfully, I have a great partner in Jeremy to work through it with.
After that meeting, I went up to see the dream studios I found online only to discover that the dream was actually a nightmare. (Cliche, but sometimes cliche's exist for a reason.)
The landlady I met with was really nice, and the building had some great vintage charm - it was clear they were in the midst of a renovation. After a few routine questions about me and what I was willing to spend (up to 700 a month) she informed me that the beautiful, pergo floor studios with stainless steel appliances were only available on floors 12-8; they were in the middle of a floor by floor rehab. I was ok with that, as high floors would be my preference anyways (as many of your know, I have a bit of a green thumb and have lots of plants.) What was not ok was that the apts on floors 12-8 rent for 900-800, out of my price range and annoyingly - far higher than their advertised price for studios (500-700! the online listing proclaimed.)
I went up and looked at two units with her; since she and her husband recently bought the building and are rehabbing it, she was clearly passionate about locking me in that day. She gave me the hard sell. And when I say hard sell, what I actually mean is that I stayed clear of the windows in case she pushed me out of them when I reminded her that I was under no circumstance renting a unit that day. I thought she would cry. "But you love these units!" she pleaded. She was only half right. I thanked her for her time and stepped back out onto sweltering Sheridan rd in my monkey suit, where by the grace of God himself, a 151 was just stopping. Providence!
Or so I thought. For after stepping onto the bus, and right after the bus driver pulled away from the stop, I realized that I had no idea where my CTA card was and couldn't pay the fare. Embarrassingly, he forced me off the bus at Montrose, and I walked the rest of the way home. By the time I got there, I was literally swimming in my suit, so I took a cool shower, and settled in for TNT's riveting drama "Saved" - and, coincidentally - "Project Runway". I was sorry to see the sporty lesbian girl voted off; she was sweet and reminded me of the non-crazy tech majors I knew in college.
Today I looked online for more apartments, got two more interviews locked in from my headhunter next Wednesday (executive assistant stuff, nothing exciting...) and got a call from the Illinois Institute of Technology to be Membership Director of the Mies Van Der Rohe Society. Interesting, at least - so I'm looking forward to meeting the woman I spoke with next week - and spending the next couple of days researching Mies and the IIT campus so I can sound like I actually know what I'm talking about. I feel like I'm doing a whole lotta faking it lately... it's almost exhausting.
So it looks like my next day off, Wednesday, will be filled with the same - running from fruitless interview to fruitless interview and pretending to be excited about things I'm not excited about. Lets just hope it's under 85 degree's - I can't afford to keep having my suit dry cleaned every week!
--
"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."
Bertolt Brecht
I was on the show, and meeting the contestants, and something about the atmosphere and the way Tim Gunn kept massaging my shoulders made me feel like I could actually win the contest. (please read into that as much as you'd like, it was oddly erotic.) As if I really had a fighting chance... so when the first challenge rolled around, I was eager to get started. I vaguely remember it being very similar to the first challenge in the current season; we had to fashion beautiful clothing from things we found around our apartment or something. As the day progressed, it became very clear to me that I was woefully unskilled in sewing, but for some reason all the contestants kept coming around to me and complimenting me on what a great job I was doing. At the end of the process, I had created a dress that consisted of two huge pieces of cardboard ala a refrigerator box, slung around someone using only yarn. Yellow yarn.
I lost. Needless to say. Or at least I think I did, because I woke up before I got to meet Heidi Klum or Vera Wang, which is a true slap in the face from sleep. (It is just me, or is Vera's sweet, succinct comments really a welcome replacement for Michael Korr's obnoxiousness?)
At any rate, I got up and went to two really fabulous job interviews at local theater organizations - one a national scale producing entity with tony awards on their shelf, the other at an old, reputable non-profit org that would be awesome to work for. Both were excellent interviews, I would love to have either job. The people I interviewed with seemed to really like me and understand my unique skills set - all very encouraging. Until they told me that the salaries are 30,000 a year.
Now, I know that money is a taboo topic, but I want to break that taboo for a minute and ask - what the hell? Who over the age of 22 can live on a mere 30k a year? With student loans, my car payment, rent, etc - I need at least 40 as I creep towards 30 and to be honest, with the experience, skill and references I bring to my next position, 50 isn't out of the question. Its a mad mad mad mad world.
Compounding this - and I'm sure everyone can commiserate - is the fact that it was 1150 degrees outside. Why, oh why am I forced to run around all day in a suit on the days the dew point reaches 85 and the mere act of breathing causes you to sweat profusely? Hard to make a good impression when you look like Buckingham fountain.
I was feeling a little bit depressed from the interviews when my friend Jeremy picked me up and the two of us dashed out to a meeting with our potential client for our consulting business. They are a start up video production house, and focus almost entirely on HD commercials, etc. We had a great meeting; they are fun, hip young guys and have a little bit of money to spend. I think that Jer and I can really help guide their marketing plan and give them a little sense of professionalism in pitching new clients on their products and experience. On my task list tonight is to finish the pitch paper for their perusal. It's exciting - starting your own thing and being "your own boss" - but it's also terrifying as hell and extremely daunting. Thankfully, I have a great partner in Jeremy to work through it with.
After that meeting, I went up to see the dream studios I found online only to discover that the dream was actually a nightmare. (Cliche, but sometimes cliche's exist for a reason.)
The landlady I met with was really nice, and the building had some great vintage charm - it was clear they were in the midst of a renovation. After a few routine questions about me and what I was willing to spend (up to 700 a month) she informed me that the beautiful, pergo floor studios with stainless steel appliances were only available on floors 12-8; they were in the middle of a floor by floor rehab. I was ok with that, as high floors would be my preference anyways (as many of your know, I have a bit of a green thumb and have lots of plants.) What was not ok was that the apts on floors 12-8 rent for 900-800, out of my price range and annoyingly - far higher than their advertised price for studios (500-700! the online listing proclaimed.)
I went up and looked at two units with her; since she and her husband recently bought the building and are rehabbing it, she was clearly passionate about locking me in that day. She gave me the hard sell. And when I say hard sell, what I actually mean is that I stayed clear of the windows in case she pushed me out of them when I reminded her that I was under no circumstance renting a unit that day. I thought she would cry. "But you love these units!" she pleaded. She was only half right. I thanked her for her time and stepped back out onto sweltering Sheridan rd in my monkey suit, where by the grace of God himself, a 151 was just stopping. Providence!
Or so I thought. For after stepping onto the bus, and right after the bus driver pulled away from the stop, I realized that I had no idea where my CTA card was and couldn't pay the fare. Embarrassingly, he forced me off the bus at Montrose, and I walked the rest of the way home. By the time I got there, I was literally swimming in my suit, so I took a cool shower, and settled in for TNT's riveting drama "Saved" - and, coincidentally - "Project Runway". I was sorry to see the sporty lesbian girl voted off; she was sweet and reminded me of the non-crazy tech majors I knew in college.
Today I looked online for more apartments, got two more interviews locked in from my headhunter next Wednesday (executive assistant stuff, nothing exciting...) and got a call from the Illinois Institute of Technology to be Membership Director of the Mies Van Der Rohe Society. Interesting, at least - so I'm looking forward to meeting the woman I spoke with next week - and spending the next couple of days researching Mies and the IIT campus so I can sound like I actually know what I'm talking about. I feel like I'm doing a whole lotta faking it lately... it's almost exhausting.
So it looks like my next day off, Wednesday, will be filled with the same - running from fruitless interview to fruitless interview and pretending to be excited about things I'm not excited about. Lets just hope it's under 85 degree's - I can't afford to keep having my suit dry cleaned every week!
--
"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."
Bertolt Brecht