Category Archives: Random Story

So I’m 23…

I turned 23 last Wednesday. That’s just about the most boring sentence I’ve ever written. As I had mentioned in one of my previous posts, my next exciting birthday is going to be 25 because I can rent a car without paying an extra fee. It’s funny how subjective the word “exciting” is. Funny or depressing. Either way, I’m looking forward to that.

Ostensibly, my birthday is still relevant given the amount of heartfelt ‘happy birthdays’ I am still receiving via my Facebook wall and my actual face. People have suddenly become so interested in my social life just because it’s the 23rd anniversary of me getting shoved out of my mother’s hoo-hah. However genuine their intrigue with me may seem, it is fleeting. Everyone seems to lose interest at about the same time:

Person: Hey! Oh my God happy birthday!

Me: Thanks <insert name>.

Person: So what did you do for birthday? Are you like still hungover?!

Me: I got dinner with my dad, step-mom and grandma. It was really nice.

Person: Oh. That’s nice.

Me: Yeah, it was really nice.

Person: That’s nice.

<Fin>

That’s generally how all of those conversations go. My last four birthdays fell during Spring Break (back when “Spring Break” existed) so those were a little less tame than this year, but I was extremely happy with how my birthday went this year (like you care). I got lunch, went to one of my favorite museums and then had dinner with my family. I had work the next morning so grandma and I had to take it easy with the white wine spritzers.

As for gifts, my two roommates (bare with me) got me a cleaning lady. I think this may have been the moment they were waiting for to hire a cleaning lady without insulting me as the head of the maintenance staff in our apartment. It perhaps also rid them of some guilt that they don’t really do much of the cleaning anyway, so this just made everything easier. One of my roommates also got a pair of Knicks tickets that he’s giving me. Yes I am taking him to the game with me. Overall, I’d say my birthday was nice, but was pretty much like any other day.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Superstition: It’s Only Weird

In college, I always wanted to do a study on the difference between OCD and superstition. I feel that people with OCD or with superstitions believe that if they don’t perform a certain ritual or wear a certain dirty sock on their left foot (for example) that something bad is going to happen to someone they love, their team, or themselves.

Here, let me bore you with some definitions. The United States National Library of Medicine defines OCD as,

“An anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), or behaviors that make them feel driven to do something (compulsions).”

“Often the person carries out the behaviors to get rid of the obsessive thoughts, but this only provides temporary relief. Not performing the obsessive rituals can cause great anxiety.”

Dictionary.com defines superstition as,

“Irrational fear of what is unknown or mysterious, especially in connection with
religion. (Fear of the unknown also known as anxiety)

“A belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge, in or of the ominous significance of a particular thing, circumstance, occurrence, proceeding, or the like.”

Aside from various social stigmas, I won’t get into what differences are (probably because they would refute me), but it sounds to me that both compulsions and superstitions arise from valuable, convenient, coincidences thusly rendering them tangibly useless.

Wow. What was even the point of all of that?

As an athlete and sports fan, I am superstitious. When I played volleyball, if we won a match, I would wear the same pair of socks (after washing them) until we lost and the socks lost their spark. Athletes also have certain routines whether they’re shooting a free throw, serving a volleyball, or about to take an at bat in baseball. Seriously, watch any baseball game and you’ll see the batters un-velcro their gloves, then re-velcro them, then spit, then hit their foot with the bat, then blink 4 times, then spin in a circle, then curtsy, but I digress. I’ve come to realize that I have picked up various superstitions or rituals when it comes to applying for jobs. Perhaps being superstitious or compulsive or WHATEVER is what is deterring me from greatness. Therefore, I am going to stop thinking I can control every freggin’ aspect of my life (and other people’s lives for that matter). Ohhhh, so that’s what my dad pays my therapist for. See, things are already coming together.

Okay I’ll start now.

I have an interview, Friday. See, old me would have thought revealing such information would jinx my chances. Also, I’m getting a haircut today so that’s pretty big. I guess we’ll see if it all works. Wait; is explicitly not having superstitions another form of a superstition? Shit damn it.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

How To Get Hired Without Standing Up

I’ve decided that once I get a big-girl job, I’m going to write a book entitled, “How To Get Hired Without Standing Up.”

To put it gently, my internship is very low maintenance, low-demand, boring. It’s at a production studio so perhaps the laction (lack of action) is circumstantial. I ask my supervisors for things to do, but they never have anything to give me despite how busy they all claim they are. Maybe they think I’m stupid. Either way, I am here every other day with eight hours to kill (including my lunch hour, thank god).

Lately, I’ve started posting articles on BuzzFeed which has proven to kill the first half of my day pretty seamlessly. I posted an article on Monday which since then has gone viral on Facebook and Twitter and currently has close to 45,000 views. All I did was take screen-shots of Google automatic fill-ins. I literally did nothing to contribute to it besides compiling them and posting them. I guess that’s what counts these days. I’ve recently achieved the accolade of Top 50 Community Contributors (whatever that means). My best friend and g-chat  counterpart  sent me a job posting to work for BuzzFeed as a blogger/editor. I said, why the hell not and applied for the job. I’ve done all of this in a chair. I’m anxiously awaiting to hear back from the BuzzFeeders.

I’ve been at this internship since December and have applied close to 30 jobs. I’ve applied through LinkedIn and through company websites. I’ve had email correspondences with recruiters and the like. Most of the jobs I applied for were for corporate companies through a generic generated form so I don’t expect to hear back unless someone falls asleep at their computer, smacks their head on the keyboard and by some stroke of odd luck, wakes up to my resume on their screen. I have had some luck with this process though. As fairly well-known digital advertising agency contacted me for a phone interview (which went well) and then they called me in for an in-person interview (which I thought was to seal the deal), but they decided to hire from within or freeze the position or something whatever. It didn’t work out, but if anything, it proved that when a pair of eyes got on my resume, it was impressive enough for an interview. Imagine a world where humans dealt with resumes right off the bat. I’d have like 50 jobs. I hate robots. I’d say my record for the job hunt is a soft 1 for 1. I didn’t get the job, but that wasn’t due to me. At least that’s what I tell myself when I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

I’m not really sure if applying to more jobs heightens my chances of getting a human to look at my resume, but while I’m here, sitting doing nothing, I might as well.

P.S. If you’re interested in checking out my BuzzFeed Page and/or article, I’ve posted the links below!

Page: http://www.buzzfeed.com/danielledweck

Article: http://www.buzzfeed.com/danielledweck/a-comprehensive-list-of-what-americans-want-to-kno-8y0m

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

One Day I Hope to be Alicia Keys’ Muse

On my walk to my internship this morning, one of my headphone speakers stopped working (not getting that fixed) so I could only hear half of Elanor Rigby. I hit next and Alicia Keys’ song, “Girl on Fire” came on my Spotify, and all I could think was, “In my biopic, there needs to be a montage where I start getting all my shit together, and this song needs to be playing during it.” My vision was curtailed when I accidentally hit the next button and a Ke$ha song came on. I hope none of her songs are used in my biopic, especially her latest gem entitled, “Die Young.” Whenever one of her songs came on at a party, my friend would instantly drop to the floor and begin to convulse to the beat while sort of spitting our her “lyrics.” That’s all I really think when I hear Ke$ha. I doubt her intentions are to make her audiences think. I doubt she thinks.

Last night, I “made” my roommates watch the American Idol auditions with me. There was this one kid from Cuba at the end who had a debilitating stutter when he spoke, but when he sang, it was like the voice of an angel, a Cuban angel. At the same time, my roommates and I said, “He’s totally faking it!” At another moment one roommate alone said, “I have this magnetic attraction to Nicki Minaj right now.” I think that’s the first time anyone has said that. The back-stories that come attached to the contestants on any show work on me. I particularly liked last night’s contestant who hadn’t sang in front of anyone before – not even his parents. Nicki Minaj was struck with a profound empathy by his story. She said that it took her just as long to perform for her mom. I mean, what was going to happen? A five year old wearing a blond wig and a leopard print onesie, shouting, “Lemme put this pussy on your sideburn!” Come on.

What do you know, Minaj and Ke$ha are the only words Microsoft considers as errors. Also, can Coke sponsor me now that I plugged American Idol?

Tagged , , , , ,

“True Terror”

A couple of months ago my restaurant was hired to cater an off-site event. I was “asked” by my manager to work as a cater waiter at the event. She said, “Okay, it’s going to be you, Ronnie, Jasmine, and Myya working the event for Details Magazine.” That’s one classy sounding group of girls if you ask me. She said, “wear black v-necks and dark jeans that are you know…” – she then did an hour-glass motion with her hands. Containing my superfluous armory of snark, I flared my nostrils, pursed my lips, gave a long blink, and nodded my head.

One week later, and the event arrived. We walked from Rockefeller Center to a nearby clothing store.  Between the four of us, two had to be “bartenders” and two had to be the servers. On par with my dearth of luck, I was the server. As I was walking through the crowd of people with my tray of jalapeño poppers, I saw a guy I went to high school with. At the moment, all I could remember about him was that he went to college at my safety school (along with 15% of my graduating class) and he once got a ticket for public urination. He’s not the first person I’ve run into while wearing my waitress costume, but seeing him triggered a brief rumination and infuriation that can be summed up in, “How the fuck do you have a real person job? This is bullshit.” Despite my efforts to avoid him, he approached me and astutely inquired, “What are you doing here?” Containing my superfluous armory of snark, I flared my nostrils, pursed my lips, gave a long blink, and gave a polite response.

KV

While I cannot give insight as to why he has a job and I do not, I can provide the moral of this story. That is, that dumber people will inevitably be successful before I am, and I will learn to deal with it as it happens – probably by deactivating my Facebook account.  On the upside, it makes for a good story.

On the next episode of “I Do Nothing at My Internship”: Danielle recounts her co-servers story about his time working at Bubba Gump Shrimp.

Tagged , , , , ,

Story Time

My friend once told me that he knew this guy that was applying to Harvard, and one of the supplemental questions read, “What is the riskiest thing you’ve ever done.” The kid filled out the question in red crayon and wrote, “This is the riskiest thing I’ve ever done.” I would have written skydiving or getting a free tattoo. Then again, he went to Harvard and well, I didn’t. No regrets.