My introduction to the music industry at my 1st internship was liquor in the filing cabinets rather than real files, executives rolling into work, hungover and passing out on the leather couch, and errands that involved buying underwear, coffee, cologne, and jewelry for my boss. But there's one errand I will never forget.
It was a warm autumn day and I heard the office assistant, Mike, on the phone, finishing up a conversation saying, "Ok. I'll get Intern Chick to do it." What? Mike busily started googling stuff on his computer, printed out a bunch of papers, stapled them together and said, "Intern Chick. Here is your Fun-Pack for the day. I need you to go to the Mandarin Oriental and pick up a CD from a friend of Bradley's (the president)."
I made my way to the plush hotel and called the president for instructions. He told me to go up to the guy's room. Of all the people working in this office, I was the only female. Why in the world would someone pick the only female to go to the hotel room of a strange man by herself? I went to the front desk, gave them the guy's name and made my way up. I knocked on the door and nothing in the world could prepare me for what I was about to walk into. A man answered the door, standing in his boxers and slippers, a red velvet robe draped over him. I stared down at my Fun-Pack, flipping through the pages, praying I was in the wrong place. I followed him in and began taking inventory of the red flags setting off my Creep-O-Meter.
On a small table, I caught a glimpse of the largest bottle of liquor I have ever seen (completely empty) and blunt guts strewn about. That would explain the burping/coughing half dressed man in the middle of the afternoon. I turned the corner of the room to see more alcohol, more blunt wraps, and the largest amount of weed I've ever seen in one place. There were two beds, side by side, one completely made and the other with the sheets and blankets wrapped up and tangled. I blinked my eyes to find, what else, a half dressed woman in that bed! If that wasn't awkward enough, she then held out her hand and introduced herself to me, as if this is perfectly normal. I'd had enough at this point and asked for the CD. Mr. Man here informed me that he didn't have the CD because he didn't know how to burn said CD on his brand new MacBook.
He blew weed seeds off the top of his laptop and asked me to show him how. I looked around for a place to sit and the only place was the other bed. Just me, half dressed man and woman on a Wednesday afternoon, chillin' in a hotel room with enough booze and drugs to get the entire city of New York high as a kite. Nothin' out of the ordinary here.. I opened iTunes and next thing I know, the guy sat down right next to me, I could feel his breath creeping down my neck. I tried to focus and just hurry up and get the CD burnt but since not one single song was labeled (other than Track 1, Track 2, etc) we had to play every one until we found the right ones. I burnt the first one and then he insisted burning another. Let's not forget here that I had no idea why I was burning these CDs or what they were supposed to be, no matter how many times I asked, no one would give me an answer.
As the last CD was burning, the man excused himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as it finished I picked up my things, said goodbye to the woman who was now asleep (or experiencing an overdose, I can't be too sure) and made my way to the door. If I hadn't been creeped out or disgusted enough, the guy was standing over the toilet, peeing, with the door wide open. He looked up at me, smiled and waved goodbye.
The icing on the cake? Two years later, at another internship in publishing, that man was listed as one of our songwriters and guess who answered the phone the one day he called?
Labels: errands, first internship, intern vault, misadventure, strange but true
I swear to Claire, this morning on my walk to work, cement dripped from the construction site I was walking past and landed on my face. Not just anywhere on my face, right near my lip as I was eating my breakfast.
It was THAT kind of morning.
I'm trying really really hard to stay positive about this whole job hunting ordeal. I spent one last sleepless night thinking about it last week and have been making a conscious effort to stay positive. Today is Day 2. My main reason for interningwhenIshouldbeworking was to go to industry events to network. Guess what? You can't go out when you're broke.
Unless you have managed to sneak your way into the life of a club promoter at one of the most exclusive clubs in New York City.
Enter InternChick.
It was much to my surprise when said promoter messaged me today to come hang out with him tonight. Let's see. It's a Tuesday night, I have probably about $20 to my name, I need groceries, and my jeans are damn near falling off my waist (club attire? I think not). Then I found out this event tonight is one of the more star studded events going on in Manhattan tonight and is being hosted by one talented basketball player and one record label that would most benefit if my name were on the payroll!
I frantically messaged my old intern buddy, telling her to come out to the city and indulge in this rare opportunity. I told the promoter that if I could find someone to come, I'd come out. My intern buddy answered me back telling me she couldn't go because her hair was a mess. What?? Am I on some type of other planet where there is no recession and music industry jobs fall out of the sky like rain drops??? She, who is also looking for a job, is turning this event down? Okay...
I tried to find someone else but, after only living here for 2 weeks and working all the time, friends are few and far between. I weighed my options. My boss told me she used to go to events all the time by herself. I warmed up to the idea and all of a sudden realized, why WOULDN'T I go?! Alone or rollin' 20 deep, why would I pass it up? There is a chance, no matter how slight, that I could meet someone who knows someone (who knows someone...) that is looking to hire an assistant. And if that chance exists, I fully intend to take it.
So, wish me luck tonight as I go on a wild goose chase for my dream job. Maybe tonight is the night I will find my golden egg.
Labels: decisions, events, intern, misadventure, new york
When I was in high school and my Italian teacher would teach us a new concept, she would finish it by saying "It is going to be this way 99% of the time. Why? Because that's the way it is!"
99% of the time, a simple task with me turns into an all out adventure. Why? Because that's the way it is!
I decided today that I needed to face my fears of city grocery shopping and get myself to the grocery store about 7 blocks from my place, so I took out the granny cart and got myself ready. In the hallway, I ran into my neighbor, Bob. He told me there was a Whole Foods much closer that I should check out, especially if I'd be buying produce. I told him I'd check it out and happily walked on over. Its always puzzled me if people use their own carts in the store, or if they use the grocery store one and put theirs in the lower rack, or any other myriad of options. I asked my boss and she told me people use their carts, so I did just that--except I was the only one and everyone was staring at me.
I maneuvered my way around the produce section, feeling a little overwhelmed and grabbed some random things. Then I started my way up and down the aisles. I had some idea of what I was there to get, but to my dismay, most of the things there were too high in calories or fat for my taste. Just because its organic, doesn't mean its healthy. I was appalled at how unhealthy some of that stuff was, meanwhile these trendy New Yorkers are eating it up, thinking they're so great because they eat organic.
I was growing increasingly more irritated when I decided to just make my way to the check out line and that I'd just go to a different store tomorrow night. At that moment, a lady dressed in all black with her hair in chopsticks started wheeling her cart very close to mine and while I walked straight, she kept getting closer and closer to mine. In a few seconds, she was so close to me that her wheels got tangled in mine and she seemed completely oblivious to it! I was so annoyed that I sped past her to get in the check out line and all of a sudden, that same lady's cart rammed into the back of my ankle at warp speed, making a crashing noise on impact. I turned around, even more annoyed when I saw it was the same woman and gave her the death stare. I pulled over to survey the damage, my ankle was throbbing and burning and weak all at once and I was convinced something was actually wrong. She saw me inspecting my leg and sped away, mumbling a sorry as she wheeled away.
I stood in line, praying I was in the right one (it appeared there was an intricate system that I was not aware of) and weaved through the maze of control barriers. The check out was difficult enough but I made it through. I finished up and went to take the escalator back up where I came from only to find that it was out of order. In my experience, when the up escalator is broken, they should (and usually do) turn the working down escalator into the up one, and everyone is happy. Not here. There was no way I could carry the granny cart up all those steps. I found an elevator in the back of the store. When one opened and everyone filed out, I started to wheel my cart in and the doors began to close. The girl inside the elevator just stared at me, and I yelled, "Are you going up??" She just stared at me some more, blankly, and I watched as the elevator ascended upwards. Rude.
I got in another elevator with two other people. I thought I'd want to get off on the G level, but one man got off there and it didn't look right so I stayed on. The next lady got off on another floor and that didn't look right either. I got off on the floor after that so I could look around and get my bearings. Wheeling my cart around, in the world's worst pony tail, wearing rubber flip flops and a confused expression, I was surrounded by fancy restaurants and classy people. I frantically pressed for the elevator so that I could get back on. I was so confused about where I was and how I ended up there and becoming increasingly more flustered. I got on the elevator and pressed the button for a floor I hadn't seen yet. I stood there for a second and decided that I should just push all of them until I found the right one.
Smart idea right?
Well it is when no one else comes on the elevator. Nothing with me is that easy, though. Why? Because that's the way it is! The elevator stopped on the one floor I didn't press and I stared at all those buttons, lit up, screaming attention to themselves. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I exploded in laughter. I started the the girl in the elevator and said, "I'm sorry, I can't figure out how to get the heck out of this building soo...I just pushed every button..Hope you're not in a rush!" She assured me she gets confused all the time too, and still can't find Whole Foods. I told her I could find that but I really just wanted to find an exit. She helped me find a way out and as I thanked her on my way out of the elevator, she called back, "Don't worry! This place is a circus!" That made me feel a little better, but not much. I then strolled through the building, passing Coach and Gucci, still feeling extremely underdressed and inferior!
I hurried home and as I was unloading my food, I noticed that I came home with NOTHING I set out for. I wanted to buy peanut butter, snacks to bring to work, cold cuts, yogurt, tupperware, and stuff I can easily make for dinner with my one pot and one frying pan. I came home with mild salsa, apple sauce, some kind of pasta sauce, and something called potato littles.
Needless to say, after I put everything away, I had to go right back out to the mini grocery store on my street and buy what I actually set out to buy.
Why? Because that's the way it is!
Labels: grocery shopping, misadventure, new york
Remember when I wrote about the Artist From Hell? I am thankful everyday that I don't have to put up with him anymore, in the office at least. We got the interview we needed to get and that was the end of it, or so I thought.
It's Labor Day yet around 10 PM this evening, I was laboring away, getting out my reports for some new projects when I got a message from my boss, Eva. She asked if there was any possibility if when I gave her the tape of the interview we did if I may have mixed it up with a blank one. I knew there was no way I had done that, because I distinctly remembered taking the tape out of the camera, putting it into its case, labeling it, and handing it to her. She said that when she sent the interview out to be cut and edited, the editor said the tape was blank.
That cannot be good.
I thought and thought, trying to put myself back in the studio that day. It wasn't making sense to me how the tape could be blank. I set up the lights, set up the camera, put the tape in, turned the camera on, tested the mic levels...and then I remembered the other intern that was helping out.. Eva had asked him to help us out so that while she was asking the questions and I was keeping order of which question was asked from the stockpile we had and in what order, the other intern could keep an eye on the camera, make sure it was on and recording and that the microphones were picking up the audio. I brought him up to the studio, showed him how to tell that the mics were working, showed him the zoom and unzoom buttons, and the record button. The artist arrived and while everyone got into their places, I set him up with his mic and took my seat on the sidelines to take notes.
The interview went fairly well and the questions Eva picked were really great, much different than what is usually asked of this artist. I was feeling pretty good about it, you know, as good as I could have after that awful week.
It occurred to me though, that the other intern was in charge of the camera and I had a sneaking suspicion there was no way he pressed RECORD on the camera. How do you miss that? It's a big red button, and its your only job. And now, with the release date just one week away, there is no way we can record another interview or pay for someone to do it. So if you are reading this and it is Tuesday afternoon, keep me in your thoughts, because tomorrow is going to be a special kind of nightmare.
I'm going to take a step away from me battling my apartment and list here a few things that I truly love about my new home. Here we go!
1. It came with some a great speaker set-up to listen to music on
2. The walls are THICK as heck so you can listen to said speakers loudly without being able to hear it in the hallway
3. It came fully furnished!
4. Its peaceful and serene in it's own quirky way.
5. My bathroom is purple
6. High ceilings and ceiling fans (which means I can get as big of a Christmas tree as my little heart desires!)
7. I have two huge closets (I will never have to worry about where to put all my shoes again)
8. Brand new stove!
9. The layout is GREAT for parties (of which I intend to have plenty)
10. It has a TON of potential
Now that that intermission is over...back to the battling!
Labels: apartment
(Unfortunately for me, this will probably end up being a series)
If you haven't picked up on this yet, this apartment is a real fixer-upper. Not 100% ready to be lived in, but it's better than riding the train knowing that at any moment, I could be settling for an awkward ride with that guy. Lately all I think about is which little job I should do next, and I wait for work to be over so that I can come home and mark at least one thing off my never-ending to do list.
Monday night I painted the dingiest bookcase I've ever laid eyes on. Then I taught myself to sew. Tuesday night I sewed some more, washed some dishes, and did some decorating. Tonight, I swore I wasn't going to do anything but relax. Yea, right. Not only did I find a job for myself, it was probably the most difficult one to be done.
I have these great windows, but there are huge metal gates covering them. My cousin must have felt extra unsafe here because there are no regular gates. These come with locks and wheels and nails and screws, along with what felt like a hundred pounds of metal. I inspected the gates and saw all I had to do was unscrew the hinges. Easy enough, right? I should have known when I had to get the Vise Grips out that this was going to be more than I bargained for. As I pressed on I realized that I would have to finish what I started, since each piece was connected to another piece. I finally got the first hinge off when the gate came swinging at me, hanging only by the one screw still holding the bottom hinge. I wrapped one arm around it and unscrewed it with the other hand. I lifted the gate and almost toppled over from the weight of it. Somehow I managed to get it down and over to the other side of the room. An hour had passed.
I spent another 30 minutes trying to get the track down. Some of that time was spent scraping paint off a nail so that I could take it out. What someone was doing nailing that into that gate I will never know. I disassembled the track and threw out the pieces, cleaned up the window sill and admired my work.
Score one for Intern Chick.
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