Another year gone

Last week I turned 23. And while it was great - lots of friends, lots of presents, lots of wine, lots of cake - it was also really depressing. At 22, I was still the new girl on the block. I was just out of college, I was the baby of my friends group, nobody cared if I left a job after three months (which I haven't done, by the way, but I would have!) or if I spent a month being unemployed.

But now I'm 23. And 23 is a grown-up age. 23 is a "you've been out of college for a year, you should be established by now" age. 23 is an age that is making me freak out a little bit.

I realize that in the grand scheme of things 23 is still very, very young. I realize that most people are NOT established by the time they're 23. But I look at representations of 23 in books and movies, and think about how old 23 used to seem to me, and I get upset that a year has passed and I'm still not in magazines. It's funny - most of my friends are freaking out about not being married or in serious relationships. I'm freaking out about being in a job I don't feel serious about.

Do you guys ever feel like that? Like you've got a ticking job clock? As if eventually you'll be old enough that people will think it's weird that you're trying to switch careers?

How short is too short?

Guys, sorry for the long gaps between posts. The summer, which is supposed to be a quiet time in publishing, has been crazy. The upside - I'm earning lots of overtime, which means I've been spending a lot of money on Zappos.com. The downside - I have nowhere to wear my new shoes, since I don't have time for much of a life, much less time for blogging. Would you believe that the things that are making my life crazy are books that will be coming out in August of '08? Talk about a long lead.

Anyway, from now on I promise to try to update at least twice a week!

A few weeks ago I went on an interview for an assistant editor position. The job wasn't right for me - I ended up telling the editor that without even taking the edit test. I always believe it's better to not waste someone's time! But I've been thinking about the interview a lot - it took less than ten minutes. It sort of freaked me out, to be honest.

I went in, did the usual introductions, and then the editor said something along the lines of "so, you're in book publishing, right?" And that was it. That was the extent of our discussion about me. She explained the magazine, explained the section that I'd be working for, gave me an edit test, and sent me on my way.

So I wondered - did I even have a chance of getting this position? Had she just given me the edit test out of courtesy (I had been recommended to her by another editor), or was the short interview just her style? I know editors are busy, but this seemed ridiculous?

When I talked about this with a friend, she said, "obviously she had decided she liked you already, and didn't need an extensive interview!" The whole thing reminds me of the agony I used to go through when I would take exams - is it good that I left the exam earlier than everyone else? Does that mean I really knew the material? Or does it mean I didn't spend enough time on my answers?

What do you guys think? Is it good for an interview to be short and to the point? Or is it better for it to go on and on, as you and the interviewer get off on tangents and get to know each other?

Ever since I realized that people actually worked at magazines, I've wanted to work for Jane. When I was a disaffected teenager, Jane spoke to me. They told me it was okay to be sort of grossed out by Cosmo. They turned me on to Liz Phair. They turned me on to Chuck Taylors. They turned me on to Elijah Wood.

Jane Pratt was my idol. I have always wanted to write AND edit, so I loved that the editors at Jane seemed to be involved in every aspect of the magazine. They were playing the pranks, they were writing the travel columns, they were interviewing the celebrities.

The magazine definitely went downhill after she left - it always seemed to be trying too hard to be half hip, half mainstream. I'm not sure if that's what brought it down, or if print really is dying.

Either way, I had a dream die today, which is always sad. Jane staffers, I hope you guys find new jobs soon! Jane readers, I hope you're not too bereft. Girls like me, who dreamed of working at Jane - Jane replaced Sassy in people's hearts, maybe something cool will come along to replace Jane. When one door closes, another door opens, blah blah.

Maybe he'll cook for me?

Last night, I saw a mouse run across the floor of my apartment.

So I did what any mature, adult woman in her twenties would do: I called my dad. And proceeded to have a breakdown, complete with the typical exclamations of "Oh my god, why is this happening to me!" and "I hate it here! I want to come home!" and a huge, huge crying fest. My dad was obviously a little taken aback that his cool in the face of danger daughter had been brought down by a tiny little mouse.

My mom, of course, got on the phone and was the voice of reason. "This isn't all about the mouse," she said. "This is half because you're unhappy right now, and the mouse feels like the final straw."

And she's right. I've been feeling increasingly unhappy and disappointed with the fact that I'm in a job I don't really want to be doing, wasting time trying to advance myself in a career that I don't really want. I try to take proactive steps forwards to get out of books and into magazines, but I keep holding myself back by being wishy washy. I can't make up my mind - is it too soon for me to leave my new job? Will it reflect badly on me? Do I really want to leave a job where I'm semi-content (nice boss, nice co-workers, etc.) for a job that I may hate? Is it worth it to leave a book job for a magazine job that's not quite right, just because it's a magazine job?

My breakdown was definitely mouse related. I mean, a MOUSE. Running around my apartment! I think that's enough to freak anyone out. And last night, when I was feeling a little down, he typified every disappointment I've been feeling since moving to New York. I spent the night on the couch, with all my lights and the TV on, unable to sleep like some heroine in a ghost movie. But this morning, things look a little better. I'm going to go buy a Hav-A-Heart trap. I'm going to try to resist the urge to ask my dad to come take care of this for me. And I'm going to acknowledge everything I like about being here, while recognizing the things that I need to change without letting them bum me out.