Wow. Didn't see that one coming.
I mentioned in my last post that I received an e-mail from an internship I'd applied to that day, asking for an interview. After a few e-mails, we agreed on a Friday afternoon interview. Ironically, on my way there, I got a call from another internship I really wanted, asking to set up an interview, too. Color me surprised.
With the knowledge that I had two more chances at internships if I totally bombed this interview, I apprehensively pulled up to a gorgeous house in the heart of Hollywood that served as the offices of the production company for which I was interviewing. Honestly, I've been so out of practice with interviews that I'd been prepared to use this as a practice exercise for future interviews.
The interviewer, Jen, was a fellow Filipina and seemed nice. She was confident, articulate, and honest, yet friendly enough that you wouldn't feel completely afraid of approaching her. She seemed like the type of person who, as a newbie, you'd hope to have on your side. To begin the interview, she asked the obligatory, "So tell me about yourself," to which I rambled on about school and work. Lord knows what I said. I'm surprised she didn't ask me to leave right then based on my lack of articulation alone.
Jen proceeded to tell me about the company ("We deal with A-list actors, not television stars." Ouch. There go my hopes of running into John Krasinski in the hallways) and her boss/the company's founder, all with the air of a long-suffering assistant. She said it was a tough internship, but all of the previous interns went on to have great jobs in the Industry. There was a wry note of warning to her voice the whole time, obviously cluing me in to how difficult this business is. The tendrils of doubt tightened a little around my heart, making it difficult to breathe. Still, I held on to that tiny glimmer of hope that come hell or high water, I could do this because I've both wanted this for a while and have gone through a lot of job-related crap before.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, she said, "I'm definitely interested in bringing you in. Does this sound like something you want to do?" I'm sure I stuttered something along the lines of a positive answer because before I knew it, I was being ushered outside with the question of whether or not I could make it on Monday at 10 AM. Again, another dazed "Yes" came out of my mouth.
I drove home in something of a daze, my mind a mess of thoughts: disbelief that it happened to quickly, worry that I couldn't get sufficient time off work (unpaid or no, this internship would give me the necessary push to quit Starbucks on the spot if I didn't need the money and/or health insurance), and full-blown panic that I was going to be an epic failure. Don't get me wrong; I'm super excited, but I'm mostly scared out of my mind--afraid of failure, afraid of not being properly prepared for the inevitable mental and emotional beatdown that is the entertainment industry.
This is huge, guys. This isn't just some internship. It's an internship with a small but influential production company. This won't just be a few months of unpaid bitchwork. It's a few months of unpaid bitchwork that will quite possibly shape the rest of my life. I won't just be an intern. I'll be an intern for types of people who are known for having difficult temperaments. My mind is still a jumbled up mess full of fears that I don't want to delve into. I just need to get into the frame of mind that yes, you are the lowly intern at the bottom of the totem pole. Tough shit. Everyone starts somewhere. That especially applies to the entertainment industry.
Everyone who I've told about the internship so far seems really excited and happy for me. I even got a celebratory drink out of Bagel when we went out Friday night. (Woot!) And every one of them registered genuine confusion when I told them I was truly afraid of this internship--namely, my fear of failure. I'm really touched that they think so highly of me.
I've always believed that I would rock whatever job I got; all I needed was for someone to give me a shot. This is my shot. Time to prove to myself and to those who love me that their belief in me wasn't unfounded. That said, I really, really hope I can keep up this attitude.
Who knew actually getting an internship would mess my head up more than waiting desperately for a mere interview? Oy.
(BTW, I've totally been saving this icon for the sole purpose of using it when I started an internship or a new job.)
With the knowledge that I had two more chances at internships if I totally bombed this interview, I apprehensively pulled up to a gorgeous house in the heart of Hollywood that served as the offices of the production company for which I was interviewing. Honestly, I've been so out of practice with interviews that I'd been prepared to use this as a practice exercise for future interviews.
The interviewer, Jen, was a fellow Filipina and seemed nice. She was confident, articulate, and honest, yet friendly enough that you wouldn't feel completely afraid of approaching her. She seemed like the type of person who, as a newbie, you'd hope to have on your side. To begin the interview, she asked the obligatory, "So tell me about yourself," to which I rambled on about school and work. Lord knows what I said. I'm surprised she didn't ask me to leave right then based on my lack of articulation alone.
Jen proceeded to tell me about the company ("We deal with A-list actors, not television stars." Ouch. There go my hopes of running into John Krasinski in the hallways) and her boss/the company's founder, all with the air of a long-suffering assistant. She said it was a tough internship, but all of the previous interns went on to have great jobs in the Industry. There was a wry note of warning to her voice the whole time, obviously cluing me in to how difficult this business is. The tendrils of doubt tightened a little around my heart, making it difficult to breathe. Still, I held on to that tiny glimmer of hope that come hell or high water, I could do this because I've both wanted this for a while and have gone through a lot of job-related crap before.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, she said, "I'm definitely interested in bringing you in. Does this sound like something you want to do?" I'm sure I stuttered something along the lines of a positive answer because before I knew it, I was being ushered outside with the question of whether or not I could make it on Monday at 10 AM. Again, another dazed "Yes" came out of my mouth.
I drove home in something of a daze, my mind a mess of thoughts: disbelief that it happened to quickly, worry that I couldn't get sufficient time off work (unpaid or no, this internship would give me the necessary push to quit Starbucks on the spot if I didn't need the money and/or health insurance), and full-blown panic that I was going to be an epic failure. Don't get me wrong; I'm super excited, but I'm mostly scared out of my mind--afraid of failure, afraid of not being properly prepared for the inevitable mental and emotional beatdown that is the entertainment industry.
This is huge, guys. This isn't just some internship. It's an internship with a small but influential production company. This won't just be a few months of unpaid bitchwork. It's a few months of unpaid bitchwork that will quite possibly shape the rest of my life. I won't just be an intern. I'll be an intern for types of people who are known for having difficult temperaments. My mind is still a jumbled up mess full of fears that I don't want to delve into. I just need to get into the frame of mind that yes, you are the lowly intern at the bottom of the totem pole. Tough shit. Everyone starts somewhere. That especially applies to the entertainment industry.
Everyone who I've told about the internship so far seems really excited and happy for me. I even got a celebratory drink out of Bagel when we went out Friday night. (Woot!) And every one of them registered genuine confusion when I told them I was truly afraid of this internship--namely, my fear of failure. I'm really touched that they think so highly of me.
I've always believed that I would rock whatever job I got; all I needed was for someone to give me a shot. This is my shot. Time to prove to myself and to those who love me that their belief in me wasn't unfounded. That said, I really, really hope I can keep up this attitude.
Who knew actually getting an internship would mess my head up more than waiting desperately for a mere interview? Oy.
(BTW, I've totally been saving this icon for the sole purpose of using it when I started an internship or a new job.)