To my dear friends, family, passersby, stalkers,
You know those standardized holiday letters that talk about what an exciting/challenging/whirlwind year it's been, what the kids are up to these days, who's engaged, who started kindergarten or college or a new job, and then there's a sweet little family photo enclosed? This post is like that letter, except there are more pictures, and it's mostly about the latter part of 2008, and it's mostly about me.
I'm not engaged, but Whit Scott is! Claire and Whit, your wedding has the potential to be the most fun thing ever. Let's get planning!
Nor did I start kindergarten, but I did start college (again)--grad school to be exact--and the first semester is now out of the way. Graduate school is like undergrad in that I sit in bed with my laptop or wander the streets during times when normal people are at work. It's not like undergrad in the sense that I have to really convince myself that it's okay for me to be doing those things instead of getting a job, and the stakes are a lot higher, and I'm anxious about it sometimes. Not that Pomona wasn't anxiety-inducing. My day-to-day stress level at Pomona was much higher than it is now, but what I'm talking about is more insidious, harder to pin down, and macro-level.
But it (stress, I mean) is not all-consuming. For instance, I'm having a great time being in New York. All summer, I was nervous about moving back because I had built a whole mythology around this place. I mean, it's probably the most mythologized city in the world. Can you blame me? But when I got here, I realized that my idea of New York was deeply influenced by growing up in and near the city. It was where my father lived for most of my childhood, it was the destination of many, many Metro North rides. I had forgotten that I already knew the character of this place (and it's definitely a character). That doesn't mean I'm not still constantly moved and inspired and in awe of it. It just means we've got some history, this city and I.
You know where else has some character? Connecticut! I know, who would've thought. Not a bad place to spend some time (with the right company, of course).
Okay, the tally so far is: one engagement (not mine), one new semester, and.... ready? Two new jobs!
That's right, two (2). Fine, one of them doesn't actually involve me getting money, which makes it less of a job and more of an extracurricular. Or, as they say to poor recent grads who are pathetic enough to still be working for no pay, "good experience." But what more can I expect? We're in a recession here.
Oh, so you want to know what the jobs are. The unpaid job is Copy Editor at the Columbia Journal, aka:
It's run entirely by the MFA students, which I like mostly because the meetings make me feel like I'm back on a newspaper staff. I'm going to train with the current copy editor this spring and then take over next year. Time to dust off my trusty Chicago Manual of Style (ahem, for Christmas, perhaps?).
The other job is as a hostess at a restaurant on the east side. It's probably one of the hardest things I've done in my life. Seriously, it makes the top 5. I think it's a combination of the clientele (high profile, entitled), the type of restaurant (classy, to say the least), and my level of experience (woefully low) that makes it so terrifying, but, as the hostess who trained me last night says, I'm going to fake it til I make it and hope I don't get fired before then.
One thing I've learned about restaurants here is that they really are all staffed by aspiring actors/dancers/singers/musicians/comedians etc. Everyone I work with, including the manager, fits one of those profiles. But not so many writers, I've noticed. We don't have the stage presence, I'm afraid, to pull off the whole song-and-dance that is New York fine dining. I'm trying, though. Digging down deep to those middle- and high-school theater days.

It's almost Christmas, and of course I still have shopping to do. This always happens! Every year, I promise to try to savor the holiday season and get my friends and family thoughtful gifts, and every year, I find myself searching through picked-over displays and sales racks on December 23. At least this year I'm in a better location for last-minute shopping. Like, I don't have to go to either Target or Toys R Us.






