Today is my last official day at Self, and although I know I’ll be back (hopefully either freelancing in the art dept. or as an editorial assistant – I have my fingers crossed) I’m sad. This morning art-production-photo (well, those who are still here the Friday before XMAS XMAS) threw me a little breakfast party w/ bagels, fruit and drinks. AND, as Shira would note, FLAGELS – flat bagels from supposedly the best bakery in New York, which is just a block from her apartment in Queens. They were good, but I prefer a good ol’ fashioned bagel. Especially if it’s covered in garlic, seeds and everything else that makes my breath stink.

Even though I occasionally complained about the internship here – almost exclusively about not having enough to do – I’ve been so incredibly lucky to start here. Actually, it’s a bit like starting a fancy dinner with dessert. When the first thing you put in your mouth is a delectable bite of chocolate mousse, the starter salad just isn’t going to be that good. The staff here is so friendly and people cooperate (gasp!). Beauty is friends with fitness is friends with production is friends with PR is friends w/ interns. People wear jeans to work (although they’re usually very cute and designer) and laugh out loud with each other. It’s an overall great environment, and I’m afraid I’ve been spoiled by it. How would I survive in a snooty Devil-Wears-Prada office? (Sorry, I vowed not to use that movie as a metaphor for the real magazine industry, but it’s so convenient.)

I’ve learned a lot here. I watched and listened to the dramas unfold – a cover getting switched at the last minute because it didn’t do well in an audience test; an important photo shoot getting moved from Mexico to LA because of a hurricane; another important photo shoot losing power after the earthquake in Hawaii. I’ve eavesdropped on the back-and-forth negotiations and arguments for cutting x number of pages because not enough ad space was sold. I paid attention to what the art director liked and didn’t like about layouts and tried to keep those in mind while designing a few pages myself. Overall, it’s been a great experience – I can’t think of a better place to have started.

I’m really going to miss it here.

Things I love about CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS (aka XMAS XMAS)

*the Salvation army guys and the mini candy canes they give you
*XMAS XMAS twinkle lights
*tinsel
*waking up to a pile of presents beneath the XMAS XMAS tree
*dancing in the kitchen with family
*arguing over who has to clean the turkey carcass
*A Christmas Story
*making sure we have eggnog so as to not delay the opening of presents
*repeating XMAS XMAS and loving the people who understand
*people seem to be in a happy mood, no matter what
*XMAS XMAS themed toe socks
*carols
*XMAS XMAS cookies
*wrapping presents
*watching football in a trytophan-induced stupor
*the sound of the bells on my stocking, which I strained to hear on Christmas Eve when I was a kid because it meant that Santa had come
*Star Wars Drinking Monopoly, the Empire Cup, and Punt the Ewok
*displaying even the broken XMAS XMAS ornaments on the windowsill
*the Reindeer bells we put on the front door so it sounds like XMAS XMAS whenever anyone leaves or comes in
*Thanksgiving dinner, part 2
*and of course all the family time

What do you love about XMAS XMAS?

After a mild meltdown last night, I feel much better. Like Eric said, what’s the worst that could happen? True, I could be unemployed and he could be fired and we might have to move back to Oregon or Michigan to live with the parents and be forced to beg for change on the corner, but the more realistic worst-case-scenario is I temp or wait tables until I find a “real” job.

This whole process is difficult, but I think it’s supposed to be that way. I worked hard in college but I was naturally good at writing essays and arguing in lecture. I’m not that good at planning my career and making ends meet. But like Eric said (again, here comes the voice of reason), it’s my first try — of course I’m not going to be that good at it — yet.

So it’s time for me to be a little easier on myself and take things from here, not from where I should have started a month ago. I’m almost done with my edit test for the fitness editorial assistant position, which I’ll turn in tomorrow. I’ve been emailing with more industry contacts. And in less than two weeks, I’ll go home and get some much-needed Ryan Family loving.

I cleaned the turkey carcass last year. Not it!

For whatever reason – menstrual hormones, a persistent headache, etc – I’m having a hard time dealing with an uncertain future today. And I’m even making it sound more dramatic than it is.

To break it down: As of Dec. 22, I will be unemployed. This is terrifying because a) I have absolutely no savings, have to pay back loans beginning in January, have a high rent (compared to anywhere other than New York, at least), and don’t want to borrow even more money from others; b) interviewing and job searching is a nightmare; and c) I don’t even know what I want to do.

Even since before I graduated, people have tried to pigeonhole me into either Art or Edit. “So, which is it? Design or editing?” Some people have agendas – they want you to say whichever side they’re more sympathetic to. But I get the question all the time, especially when people look at my resume.

I’ve resisted this question because I don’t believe I should have to choose one or the other, but also because I don’t know which career path I want to follow. People (most recently Cindy, the Self CD) say my next job will determine my career trajectory more than my major, previous experience or any other jobs have thus far. No pressure!

I’m just starting to realize that I’ve approached this newest job search a bit lackadaisically, as if I already have the Self edit assistant job (which I really want). I have very few back up plans and haven’t taken full advantage of my contacts. My portfolio hasn’t been improved much and I will receive my final paycheck in three weeks.

Sorry for my “the world is ending” rant. Just needed to vent for a moment, and I have no one to call. (Plus, I’m at work and should be working – imagine that.) I imagine I’ll find some perspective in a bag of Newman O’s, or at least I’ll become more reasonable when I stop PMSing and actually get my shit together.

When I got back from Europe two weeks ago, New York had suddenly turned into a Christmas wonderland. The Rockefeller tree lit up with a ceremony that prompted thousands of people to mob the streets in Santa hats; a 10-story high electric snowflake display pulses to a techno version of Carol of the Bells on 6th Ave.; shopping traffic in Soho, Chinatown, Times Square and everywhere else is maddening enough to make me want to gouge out my eyes with a credit card. But last week’s weather, with temps near or hitting 70, made the Christmas cheer a bit surreal, like Frosty in Fiji. Eric and I went to the Rockefeller Center on Friday night, and the ice skating rink was actually melting. Kids were skating through puddles. No joke.

The weather has finally caught up with the calendar, though, and it’s flipping freezing here. Of course, I’m not really allowed to complain because Amy has frozen boogers in Spokane, Bill got stuck in a snowstorm on I-5 for 16 hours, and Beth… she’s scuba diving in Thailand and sunning in Singapore. Damn.

Only 2 ½ weeks until Christmas Christmas! I can’t wait to go home to be with the fam, although I’ll have to come back before I’ve gotten my fix of kitchen dancing, home-cooked meal eating and ToeJam and Earl playing. But hopefully I’ll be coming back to a new job, perhaps a real one complete with paid vacation days and a 401(k)! Egads!

Until then, I’ll continue to sing carols in my head and forward Times articles like this one:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/06/us/06cleveland.html?em&ex=1165554000&en=eb130c9484366e3c&ei=5087%0A

Farararara, ra ra ra ra!