10 PM Wednesday Night

My interview was 2.5 weeks ago. I was told they would finish interviewing exactly a week ago. I haven’t heard anything – I’m not sure what that means, and I don’t want to give up just yet.

Moving on.

I’ve been good for the last few weeks; I cut out the junk I was eating, I quit drinking Dr. Pepper in favor of water and I got a bunch of fruits and vegetables and yogurt to eat for snacks. And I went to the gym almost every day. It feels really good. I want to be skinny…I really want to be skinny…

Aside from that, Paget Brewster’s makeup artist (from Criminal Minds) got on Twitter and gave us a list of products that they use on her face. Sadly, most of them are MAC and are quite expensive. I went to MAC the other day and tried on the “Fast Play” lip color (AFTER they doused the tube in sanitizer) and I LOVED IT.

So I bought one. Just one. And I’m hooked; the stuff is great. I see why Paget likes this color. It looks good on people like us who have light skin and dark hair. I would collect these lip colors if they weren’t $15 each. Or maybe slowly; you know, one by one, one a week or one every two weeks. 🙂


The Interview

I was a good girl. I got up at 8. I went to the gym. I came home, showered, got dressed and left early to make sure that I made it to the interview on time. I sat in a Starbucks to keep warm for the 1.5 hours between getting off the train and getting to the interview.

The first problem involved the stairs. See, I don’t like elevators. I don’t like the whole tiny, windowless moving box thing. I’m not very good at flying, either. However, I know that I might suffer serious psychological damage if I ever got stuck in an elevator…especially if I got stuck in an elevator alone. So I avoid elevators. I was perfectly happy to walk up to the 6th floor. I’m 28, I’m strong, I can walk (and run, and dance!) in heels, so why not?

Except that the doors to each floor are locked from the stairwell. You can walk DOWN to the first floor, but not up to any other floor. I found this out AFTER the desk attendant in the lobby went up the company and got their receptionist to come downstairs for me. I thought I was just getting a key to the 6th floor door. If I had known THAT was the plan, I would just have darted into an elevator with other people. I explained this to the receptionist, and I hope that she didn’t tell anyone else.

I’m kind of paranoid. I’m sure that people are always looking for ways to discriminate against other people. I was sure that any little thing that I did during this interview would disqualify me. Never mind education. Never mind languages. Never mind ability. Someone who is shy and nervous around people will never succeed because to be shy is un-American. Americans must be confident and aggressive to succeed. Most people can do confidence for themselves, but I cannot. I need to see proof from other people that I deserve it.

So I did the interview. I answered the questions as best I could, but I don’t know if they believed me. I took the test and it was easy. But I was nervous. I was playing with my ring and with my scarf and I kept one arm across my chest most of the time (for fear that the scarf would part and the fact that my top was fairly low-cut would not show). They asked me questions about professional experiences and since I have none, I had to answer as best I could. They asked a lot of questions about interpersonal communications. Ummm….I can handle people. I can. I’m just a loner type. A loner type that is hurt by most things that people say and do. A loner type that has no personal support.

They’re interviewing until next week. If they want to see me again, they’ll call for a second interview. That means that there is competition. This is a very bad sign. I don’t win competitions. I don’t get chosen over other people.

Beauty and That Whole “Professional” Thing

I have a job interview on Tuesday. Like many other women before me, I used that job interview as an excuse to go clothes shopping.

That’s where everything went to hell.

I don’t love the whole “professional attire” thing. I like the look well enough, but professional clothing only looks good on skinny women. Those professional pants and skirts are made out of material that does not flatter women (like me) with fat hips. Besides, I’m low-key; I prefer to be in jeans and a T-shirt or a hippie skirt and a cami.

I spent three hours at the local mall this afternoon, looking for 2 simple items: a top and a black skirt or pants.

I went into every store that sells womens’ clothing, even the most expensive, way-out-of-my-budget stores like The Limited and Ann Taylor Loft. In the end, I ended up with a top that I like well enough from New York & Company. Normally, this is my favorite store, but their current stock was disappointing. I tried on multiple pairs of pants, skirts and tops until I found this, which – mind you – I’m not crazy in love with. But it fits well enough, it doesn’t make my upper body look fat and it’s blue: my best color.

The problem with professional pants and skirts is that they are cut incredibly thin, with rigid, unyielding material and very straight lines. I’m 5’1″ and have hips, therefore any pants that fit my hips are several inches too long, and I don’t have time for alterations. Straight lines and unyielding material, given my hip size, are not particularly flattering.

Eventually, I ended up with that top and, after hours of searching elsewhere, found myself back at New York & Company, buying a pair of pants that don’t make me look too fat but are made out of stretchy, almost-sweatpant material. I don’t love them, but they were my last option.

Now, as for the top and the pants together…I hate them. I hate them, but given my size, I have no other choices. I was seriously hoping to go into this interview thrilled with how I looked and, therefore, confident. Before you lecture me on the validity of that last statement, let me just say that any woman who claims to love her body is lying to you. We say it because it sounds good, but it is never true. Even the skinniest women hate something about their bodies. This is just how it is.

Barring some miracle occurring tomorrow, however, this interview is not going to be what I hoped for it to be.

The Meeting with the Dance Studio

I was dreading it. I was really dreading it. I haven’t danced in 6-7 years and even then, I never really got past the bronze level (amateur ballroom dance is divided into levels of proficiency: bronze, silver, gold and novice). Thanks to my public ivy university’s rather out-of-the-way location and lack of access to decent training facilities, we had to make do with our more experienced dancers to train the newer dancers. Though I did hold leadership positions on the team, I was never a captain and never handled the training.

I walked into the studio with major reservations about this whole thing. I know that if I had to teach, I would have to do a lot of catch-up training myself. I wasn’t sure how to broach this subject with the studio’s manager, as I had initiated this whole thing by calling him.

It turned out that I didn’t really have to. I filled out an application and had a short conversation with him in which I emphasized my love of Latin dance and the depth of my appreciation of what Latin culture actually is. He seemed to understand and even appreciate that. Score one for me.

And then he informed me that they have had a long list of applicants and were sifting through them one by one and were slightly overwhelmed. I understood this; I think every employer, and even America’s colleges and universities, are increasingly in the position of having more and more applicants for a much smaller number of open spaces.

So it will take a couple of weeks to make those decisions, but if they call me, they will need part-time evening work on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays…ie. my Wednesday night Criminal Minds addiction – which I described simply as a pre-arranged commitment from 9 – 10 PM on Wednesdays – will not be a problem! AND I could work full-time during the days and perhaps make a little extra money DANCING at night. My gym trips would have to be at the break of dawn, but….I guess I could maybe manage that? My cousin hits the gym at 5:30 every morning. I guess I could do that, too?

There’s still the issue of being very rusty; I didn’t broach the subject today. If they call, I will have to decide how to handle it.