I love how you don’t have to remember anyone’s birthday anymore. Thanks to Facebook, nobody has to mark their calenders or plan on making a phone call. You just check the upper right hand of the screen, post your birthday wishes on the wall (with no less than three exclamation points) and be on your merry way. You’ve done your good deed for the day. I don’t regard my birthday as anything exciting, but I was still surprised to see that a few key people forgot altogether. Some of them have real lives and get a free pass. But others I felt probably looked at that birthday reminder on their FB home page and thought, “Fuck it, it’s not worth my time”. It was yet another reminder that not everyone has to be your fan… or your friend.
So a funny thing happened today. I received a phone call from a potential employer about an assistant editing job at an online magazine based out of Marlboro. I had been waiting to hear back from this guy for a week now so I was caught off guard. Still, I carried on with the interview. Everything was going well until:
Editor: So what was your GPA at Kutztown?
Me: Ah, 2.33
Editor: Hmm, that’s not very good.
I was pretty fucked, but I clawed out of the ditch explaining that my QPA (courses directly related to the English degree) was a 3.0 and that my inability to comprehend the maths and sciences brought my average down. He seemed ok with that ( But Christ, even the Asbury Park Press didn’t ask for my GPA. I’ve never felt like more of an idiot. Maybe I should consider grad school after all). After a few more questions he asked me what my goals were in terms of being an editor. I started to talk about how I liked mentoring reporters and story structure when my brain shut down. Looking back, I was trying to think of the word “meticulous” and it wouldn’t come to me. Before you know it, I’m fumbling for synonyms and trying to think of anything to end the increasingly awkward silence. And then I just hung up.
I had an in-person interview with the top two editors at the Asbury Park Press and didn’t feel the fear like I did talking to this guy. It was humiliating on both a professional and human level. At the point when I hung up, I knew I wouldn’t have got the job anyway. But looking back I’d rather have come across as an unqualified candidate than a little bitch. But on the bright side, I don’t think any interview will be worse than that one. So it’s all uphill from here.
Did anyone watch the endings for the finales of Flight of the Conchords and Eastbound and Down? Holy shit, were they depressing. I’ll never laugh again until 30 Rock on Thursday.
Fun fact: Apparently, when you search the term “LG Dare” on Google’s image search, the pic from my blog is the first result, which has led to a 500% increase in blog views. I wonder what people think when they click the link and realize that I don’t anything important to say?