Utter Indecisiveness

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Do I want to live in a fun neighborhood full of bars and restaurants and people up all night OR do I want to live somewhere mellow and quiet and relaxing?

Do I want to live by myself and find a place close to work OR do I want to suffer through a traffic-jammed commute every morning in order to live with my best friend?

Do I want the additional safety and security of a building with amenities (doorman, video surveillance, etc) OR do I want to pay less and trust my instincts?

I'm so indecisive about everything. I feel like I should have at least a sense of what I want, but I don't. My mom reminds me how I hate driving and therefore probably want to minimize my morning commute by living close to the main road I take to work. This makes sense. But, just when that starts to sound like the way to go, my friend A starts telling me about the amazing social scene on the other side of town. Then that starts to make sense. After all, how bad can the drive home be if I come back every evening to unbeatable happy hour specials? I don't want to live alone because I hate coming home to an empty apartment, but I don't want to live somewhere I can't afford simply because that's what my friend wants. Then it's like, sure I have a fabulous luxury apartment, but I can't afford to eat. ever.

I feel like I just need someone to shake me and say "KAT WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Sometimes I can't even remember anymore...

When it comes to figuring out the future, things get tricky. Friendships can start to feel like business relationships, and the guy who works for the moving company starts to feel like your best friend. You begin to detest the family members you love, and the ones who normally drive you crazy start to feel like the only people you can talk to.

I guess, like anything else, transitions are a flip flop time. Does everyone feel like this?

Sometimes Even the Best Laid Plans Backfire...

My first plan in life was simple. When I grew up, I wanted to be an actress.

Ok...

So, I took some acting classes, did a ton of children's theater, got some head shots taken and then realized: I was not cut out to be an actress. In order to succeed in Hollywood, you need to be pushy, assertive, and ballsy. You need to act like a prima donna before you're really entitled to, and that was just never me. Even at age 7 I knew I couldn't stand up in front of a roomful of people without turning beet red. So, my next plan was to be a gymnast.

My parents signed me up for gymnastics classes and ballet classes and it turned out, I was pretty good. I was extremely flexible and actually had the perfect gymnast build (which came back to haunt me years later at Midway airport when a creepy guy looked me up and down and used the line "are you in the Olympics because you look like some sort of gymnast to me". Ick.) But the time comes in a young gymnast's life when she is forced to choose between the sport and her social life, and I just couldn't prioritize sweaty gym workouts over school and parties and being a teenager.

So, what was the next plan? Go to a great school, graduate with job offers left and right, and make enough money to get off my parent's cellphone plan.

I guess I got the first part right. Uchicago is currently somewhere in the top 10 colleges in the U.S. but somehow I failed to receive the dozens of job offers from companies begging for me to come "join their team!" and... my dad still pays my blackberry bill.

So does anybody get it right? Are there girls who say, "I'm going to be an actress" and they make it happen? My friends C and N knew as early as the first week of freshman year that they wanted to work in finance. They excelled in their majors and graduated with top honors. Both girls are currently employed by the largest investment bank in the world, making close to $100k starting salary, and living in luxury apartments in buildings equipped with doormen and fitness facilities. Were they somehow better at sticking to their plans? Were they more motivated than I was?

Or, did they just get lucky?

If you have a plan set in place early on, does it make any deviation feel like a mistake? Should I look at my inability to follow a plan as some kind of wonderful spontaneity on my part or as a result of my undiagnosed ADHD? How different would my life be today if I had just stuck with the original plan?

Sorry but it's too hot to do anything today

My apartment is literally one thousand degrees. I know Dane Cook would be on my case now for exaggerating like "Uhhh no it's not. You are exaggerating. It is not one thousand degrees. You are a liar." But if I'm exaggerating, it's minimal. Un-air-conditioned Hyde Park apartments heat up to suffocating temps in the summertime; something I did not know until recently.

Anyway, it is truly too hot to sleep, too hot to eat, too hot to type, so I'm going to go sit on the beach for a few hours and read a book and splash around in the apparently E.coli-infected waters.

Yum.

And Chicago Didn't Even Make the List...

A recent article in the Washington Business Journal touted DC as the #2 place for job hunting grads based on the cost of living, employment opportunities, and wages. Surprisingly, DC placed only behind Houston as "The" place to live.

While I find this incredibly encouraging for myself and my East Coast friends, it seems surprising that Chicago doesn't even place in the top 25. Chicago's cost of living seems comparable to DC's, it houses many major companies (such as Boeing, PepsiCo, and United Airlines) and it's full of young people. Lincoln Park, Wrigleyville, Belmont, etc. have bars on every block brimming with the under-30 set every weekend. No offense Tulsa, but it seems a little bit ridiculous that you would rank at #13 and Chicago doesn't even make the list of Best Cities for New College Grads!

Some might argue that Chicago is expensive or the job market is slim and those are fair arguments. But New York (#12) living expenses are higher than the tallest skyscrapers, and why would anyone even want to work in Dayton (#20)? I don't mean to hate on you, other cities, but come on, give Chicago a little credit.

Or, maybe I can see this as a good thing. If Chicago doesn't even make the list but, in my opinion, has a reasonable cost of living and companies offering competitive pay, it suggests that Chicago is lacking in the third category: job openings. Maybe this explains why it is so tough finding work right now - I'm looking for jobs that truly don't exist.

I might be born and bred on the East Coast, but Chicago, with all its Midwestern charm, will always hold a place in my heart. Even if no one here wants to hire me, I'm hoping this summer isn't my last in The Windy City.

We're All in the Same Gray Boat

Transition periods are scary.

Four years ago, the thought of leaving DC and moving to the Midwest for college seemed like the stupidest idea ever. Why would I want to leave the East Coast, I questioned myself over and over? What was I thinking? But, once I was all settled in (it took a few months to really feel at ease) I started to realize that as long as you have good friends, you will always feel like you're home.

Now, I'm in a similar transition period and it feels as unsettling as that first "Big Move" out West. Whenever I don't know what to expect, I feel out of control and helpless, and as a neat freak bordering on obsessive-compulsive, I hate feeling so vulnerable. Then, a few days ago, I realized: I'm being totally self-absorbed. EVERYBODY feels this way right now. I asked C if she was nervous before her first day of Goldman training and she shuddered.
"Of course," She replied. "And I have an advantage over others because I interned last summer. I at least have a sense of what's going to happen."

Even when we have an inkling of what to expect, the unexpected can still occur and until we've all developed regular routines and become accustomed to new daily patterns, life will seem a bit muddled.

Once, four years ago, Chicago was the spot of the Big Bad Transition. Now, the situation has reversed and I blame DC for my uncertainty. For now, I'd like to stop seeing things purely in black and white. Chicago is great but DC will be great too. Life during a transitional phase, it seems, is a crazy beautiful shade of gray.

A Little R & R...

I spent this past weekend in New York visiting friends and getting a much needed feel for the city. For some reason, after getting rejected by NYU over four years ago, I held a grudge against the city itself.

New York is dirty, I thought.
New York has too many weird hipsters, I thought.
New York is so imposing, I thought.

I returned to the city several times during my college career, but every visit was a "family visit" and usually included stressful cab rides, Broadway shows, and being shoved by Japanese tourists in Times Square.

So, what a refreshing change to escape Hyde Park and do New York up right!

I was a nomad for the weekend, wandering from 58th and Madison down to 31st and 7th every afternoon to visit my friend N at the Affinia hotel where she was bunking for two months. Every night consisted of bar hopping in the East Village or bumping into fellow Uchicago alums at the 24 hour nail salon near 27th and Lex (after inhaling an Indian feast so authentic my Indian friend's accent thickened from sheer bliss). But mostly. I walked. I walked and walked and ate and walked some more. We tried fabulous restaurants, sat in adorable cafes, and popped into cutesy vintage boutiques for some much needed wardrobe updating.

The best part of the weekend for me though, was the realization that even if I don't end up in Chicago, I'll be just fine. I've been clinging to what I know, rather than opening myself up to the idea that there are some pretty fabulous places where I could easily carve out a niche for myself. I know New York is the post-college dream, but I had always felt as if I wouldn't fit in. As my cousin L told me: It's really hard to not fit in, in NY.

Thank you N, C, L, S, and N for showing me your city and bringing a smile to my face. I'm lucky to have such amazing friends (and family!)

And...exciting news: while I was away, I received my very first job offer! I guess the saying's true. Things come along when you least expect it.

Is This a Sign I'm Growing Up?

Yesterday I laughed so hard I couldn't stop. It was one of those wheezing, gasping, uncontrollable guffaws when standing up seems like too much work and you have to sit down or fall over or do something to help calm the overwhelming wave of giggles. To be honest, I don't even remember what was so funny in the first place. All I know is it felt great to be in the company of good friends and
just
let
go.

I know in reality I'm a spoiled little princess who is living off a monthly allowance from my parents, but life still feels stressful. I have important decisions ahead of me and they feel monumental. They are monumental. And last night I realized, it's been a while since I've laughed so hard.

The little boy I babysit for (let's call him "M") laughs all the time. He finds pleasure in the simplest things. When I pick him up after school, he ogles clouds and sidewalk cracks; he picks up pebbles and taps on windows; he sprints down the sidewalk and screeches to a halt at every corner before reaching for my hand to help him cross the street.

M laughs maniacally when the homeless guy on the corner greets him: "Hey there little dude". M laughs when the cashier at The Med drops a penny on the floor. M laughs when I make a silly face, or when he puts on my sunglasses, or when lemonade escapes from his cup and dribbles down his chin. He's a cheery, happy, excitable little boy but sometimes when I see his face light up it saddens me because I know I used to be like that.

Once upon a time, EVERYTHING made me laugh. My two best friends in high school constantly had me rolling on the ground in stitches. In fact, I used to thank them for my great abs because I was convinced it was all the cackling that led to nice muscle definition. These days, when I'm with M, and I see his adorable little face dissolve into laughter, I miss the old me. I miss the me that had a million things to laugh about. I don't think I'm un-happy per se, it's just that this period of my life feels extremely unsettled and scary and I'm finding I have a lot less to laugh at.

Thanks Steph and Sam for bringing back my hysterical, hiccuping, paralyzing, laughter :)

I've Applied to ALL the Jobs

I'm interested in PR, marketing, journalism, event planning, and health & fitness - I like to tell people. As a general rule, I am not interested in the broader fields of finance, mathematics, politics, or plumbing. However, this job market has led me to apply to every. single. job. on the Chicago Career Connection website. Ok, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. Clearly I haven't applied to the thousands of possible jobs on CAPS, but there is a page dedicated to the alumni network and its sole purpose is to connect recent, unemployed alums, with older, more established alums to improve their odds of finding employment.

This is a nice idea - really, it is.

But. The University of Chicago is a serious academic institution famous for its econ department, scientific research, and legendary Nobel Prize winners. More recently, it has become known as "Obama's 'hood". Uchicago is NOT generally recognized for its "fluff" majors (Communications, PR, and Journalism do not exist), its parties (how can I plan events where "fun goes to die"?), or its students' social skills (how can I ask someone for a job if he speaks the language of Star Trek?).

This poses a problem because it means my interests lie far outside the realm of the CAPS alumni network. As a result, I stopped being picky and decide to just apply to every single job on the page.

I applied to paralegal positions. I applied to consulting firms. I applied to investment banks and marketing research labs. I applied to Psych labs and hospital volunteer jobs. I applied to summer camps. I applied to Chicago's City Hall. I even applied to work in "drainage maintenance" (which is a euphemism for plumber) before I realized that it is actually an incredibly demanding job requiring specific skills, none of which I have.

Anyway, I felt pretty good about my applications. My cover letter is individualized for each company expressing my burning desire to work for them. My resume has been edited and re-edited, and I actually have multiple resumes with all my info organized differently depending on the industry in which I'm looking for employment. My email greeting has been polished and perfected to reflect the ideal balance of brains and cheer. And yet... I received only rejections. Or worse. No reply.

So, I tried to keep a positive attitude and returned to the CAPS site a few days ago planning to look over the alumni connection page again and pick out a few more jobs to apply to. And that was when it hit me.

As I scrolled my way up and down the page, I realized: I've applied to every single one of these jobs. Literally. There is not a single position on this page that I haven't already sent in my resume for.

So I guess I'll have to cross my fingers and hope someone gets back to me in the next few weeks. Or, it looks like I actually might have to use mommy and daddy's connections after all. *sigh*

Panic Monsters and Anxiety Gnomes

The episodes of panic are suffocating. Sheer terror grips me for several minutes at a time and I lie in my bed completely immobilized.

I picture small anxiety gnomes hopping on my head and swinging from my earlobes, fighting each other and clamoring loudly to force entry into my body. Some wriggle into my ears. Other squirm their way into my nostrils. The really feisty anxiety gnomes hold my nose and pry open my lips and when I gasp for much needed oxygen they jump onto my tongue and slide down towards the back of my throat causing me to gag on their oily, bitter bodies.

This is not a dream.

Every morning my alarm goes off (at a reasonable hour - I'm unemployed, mind you) and after I switch off "Tune_AssemblyLine", I lie in bed for several minutes thinking. A piece of advice to other recent grads without full time jobs: DO NOT THINK FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. If you do, here's what will happen.

It's early - your usual guards are down. You are tired. You don't have the energy to smile yet and act peppy. You start thinking whether it's time to get up and brush your teeth. Then, you think, well - if I'm getting up to brush my teeth I might as well get up officially for the day. You might think about the breakfast you'll make which will remind you that today was also the day you swore you'd go to the gym. But, thinking about the gym makes you remember the unopened How To Become A Personal Trainer textbook sitting on your bookshelf which makes you recall your earlier determination to get PT certified and get a job in health & fitness. You look at your bookshelf. You can't help but notice the pile of old clothes and shoes you set aside months ago hoping to give to the homeless. Of course, when you called the shelter they informed you that they did not want any of YOUR clothes but rather men's dress clothes. Um. Okayyyy. So there they sat. A bag of women's tank tops and cardigans; t-shirts and sweatpants; slippers and toiletries. What was once the inklings of a selfless good deed, has become a constant reminder that I a) still live in the apartment I lived in for 3 years of college. b) Am apparently too self-centered and egotistical to find a Salvation Army drop off near campus and c) So frazzled and stressed I'm clearly multi-tasking and inevitably accomplishing even less than if I sat down and completed task by task individually. I am scattered. I am scattered and I am panicked.

More specifically, today is July 13th. On August 18th the renters come back and I need to have my bed, dresser, desk, couch, armchairs, rugs, kitchen table, microwave, lamps, storage containers, clothes, shoes, TV, coffee table, and bookshelves packed up and moved away from this apartment. Where these items will go - I have no idea. Will they stay nearby in a new Hyde Park apartment? Will the travel north towards Lincoln Park / Wrigleyville? Or, will my belongings inevitably begin the 12 hour trip back to DC?

and, And, ANDDD on August 18th, will I know where I'm going? Will I have any sort of plan in place?

This limbo world is way less relaxing than I thought it would be. I can't wait for the anxiety gnomes to stop attacking my face every morning.

You're Telling Me I Can't Wash Dishes?!

A friend stopped by my apartment a few nights ago and told me one of the scariest stories I have ever heard. This is one of those tales that is so frightening I literally haven't slept for 3 days because I can't stop thinking about it.

Apparently, my friend's friend (let's call her S) attended Uchicago for 4 years and graduated several weeks ago, like me. S is interested in becoming a chef, but no restaurant will hire her straight out of college without kitchen experience. S understands that in the food industry you start at the bottom and work your way up. So, she agreeably decided it would be wise to gain exposure to the industry and save up some money before eventually heading to cooking school.

So. What did S do? She filled out applications at several Chicago restaurants for the position of DISHWASHER only to be told that they were unable to find a spot for her. Even when S explained her situation and promised she would truly put her very best effort into the job, the restaurants rejected poor S.

My friends and I sat in my living room digesting this story and came up with several un-PC explanations.
"Clearly S was overqualified," said Steph, "I mean, they probably saw her degree and knew she'd be smarter than her superiors. They were probably scared to hire her..." This seemed like a possibility but my friend quickly reminded us that S returned to the restaurants in person to explain why she wanted the dishwashing job and was still spurned even though she practically begged.
"Maybe it's because S doesn't speak Espanol," I taunted.
"Maybe...but she took French in high school because she thought it was a more "food focused" culture. S shouldn't be punished for speaking the WRONG romance language," Kennan argued.

Summary of the situation: S is a Uchicago English grad who is unemployed and moving back to Ohio to live with her parents because local restaurants find S incapable of washing dishes following 4 years of the (arguably) best undergraduate education in the country.

Yep. This is officially depressing...

First Blog Post

So, the title of this blog post is not particularly interesting. I guess I wanted to start with the obvious and hopefully all this writing will trigger some hidden inner creativity later.

Currently, I'm watching the world cup final with my roommate Stephanie and her younger sister. We are bored. This game is extremely dull.

My weekends are usually filled with never ending job applications (like my weeks) but I decided to take a few hours to myself and eat java chip ice cream and honey comb cereal (not together...separately) while watching the game and relaxing with the girls.

I guess since the plan is to use this blog as a way to accumulate writing samples and possibly connect with others who could help me with the big bad job hunt I should at least mention my interests.

I love to read and write. I'm a sucker for Jodi Picoult books and fitness magazines. In terms of employment I'm hoping to find a job in event planning, PR, marketing, hospitality, or journalism. My dream dream dream job is to be a pastry chef in Paris but I know I'd never find a way to pull that off. I'm an embarrassingly bad cook.

Does anyone have any recipe ideas for a broke college grad? Something that involves minimal time, minimal money, and loads of vitamins and minerals? I don't have benefits so I better stay healthy! (Thanks mom and dad for keeping me on the family health insurance for now by the way...)

Wow. this first post is definitely a mishmash of thoughts. I guess we can just assume I'll be ADD with this. I really can't imagine it being any other way...