That Glass is half empt...wait, is it half full?

I don't like losing. I don't like losing in Beirut, I don't like losing in basketball, and I don't like losing sleep. So when I got my first "thanks but no thanks" on the job front last night, I was kind of pissed. It's not that I'm a sore loser, it's just that I equated not getting a job with a loss. If everyone got every job they applied for it wouldn't be called a "job search", it would be called a "4th grade job recreation league", where everyone goes home with a trophy (the job offer) regardless of how they perform. That's not real life.

Ok, I was going to start a new blog from scratch, but I decided to keep the above. I just got back from a pre-interview reception and when the reception was over I checked my voicemail. I had a message from a bank extending me a summer offer. I've since listened to the message probably 10 times to make sure I actually heard right. So I guess it just goes to show how things can change in the matter of hours. So how am I celebrating...

1. Pad See Ew (obviously)
2. Do laundry
3. Listen to Ice Cube's "Today was a Good Day"
4. Listen to The Isley Brothers' "Footsteps in the Dark"
5. See #3
6. See #4





"Today was a Good Day" is probably one of my top 10 favorite songs and is an absolute essential for any decent bunk cleanup mix. I'm not a fan of the video and the "clean version" just doesn't sound as good as the explicit version. I mean, really, "my jimmy"?, come on Cube. Anyway, it's clear after listening to the second video that Ice Cube sampled from Mr. Isley and that's why I wanted to give "Footsteps in the Dark" some youtube love as well. It's only fair, plus "Footsteps in the Dark" is a pretty sassy song.

I think the best thing about getting an offer is that you'll be getting a significantly lighter dose of bitching from me, unless of course you like the bitching part. This offer is a game changer, it really is, especially since I thought it was going to be a rough road ahead job search-wise.

That's all I got. I'm beat. So, yes, today was in fact a good day. And the only footsteps in the dark will be me c-walking in my jammies tonight in celebration.

Eli's Coming

Sing along starting at 00:36

Eli's Coming. Hide your heart girl
I'm lip-syncing, I really play the drums
Girl! Eli's coming. You better Omaha!
Girl! Eli's coming. You better Omaha!
Girl! Eli's coming. You better Omaha!
Girl! Eli's coming. Omahahaaaa!
Hide It! You betta betta Omaha.
Eli's coming...betta walk walk.
But you'll never get away, no you'll never get away
From bro Peyton's shadow.
I walked with Troy Palomalu hey!
Eve-ry-where I go. OOOOOO!
Eli's Coming (She walked but she never got away)
Eli's Coming (She walked but she never got away)
Eli's Coming and he's comin' to get yaaaaa...

Chord change........(shenanigans, shenanigans....)


Oh man, that was fun. Isn't the best part at 1:54 when pink scarf guy does the we-sing-at-the-same-time-but-I'm-moving-the-microphone-between-us-thing, and the guy with Marv Albert's toupee has no clue what's going on. What a great video. I've probably watched that youtube clip at least 50 times in the past 48 hours. I can't get enough and I'm pretty sure the chick with the mustache is in my Valuations class. But the point is this, Eli freaking Manning, Giants, Super Bowl. Wow. And in case you don't know, "Omaha" is what Eli says every time he steps up to the line of scrimmage. Kind of like how Tom Brady always says "White 80, White 80" and Jared Lorenzen always says "Bacon Egg Cheese, Salt Pepper Ketchup".

Anyway, when that field goal went through the uprights in overtime I almost passed out. I don't think I've felt that type of pure joy and excitement in a long long time, which means that I need to get out a little bit more. The Giants proved to be a healthy distraction from the grind of class and the interview process. There is no guarantee on the job front, but there is a guarantee that in less than two weeks I'll get to watch the Giants play in the Super Bowl, and that's enough to keep the spirits high.

I was speaking to my friend Eli tonight (I swear, he lives on the 5th floor) and we were talking about job stuff. He made a very good point. A year ago today most of the first year MBAs were sitting pretty. We had good jobs, some were making good salaries, and life was good. A year ago, if someone had said, "hey, I want to offer you a job in Corporate Finance at the Limited Brands. They're located in Reynoldsburg, Ohio", you would have said, "seriously? Get out of my face with that Reynoldsburg, Ohio nonsense". But now, as people start going through the process and seeing how difficult it is they are changing their tune, and if you ask them the same question today they might say "Is there a Cheesecake Factory in Reynoldsburg? Oh, there is? I guess I could handle it for a summer". With the markets the way they are and with banks tightening their belts it really doesn't look great for our protagonist. But sheeeeeeet, if Eli Manning can start the season 0-2 and make it to the Super Bowl, I'm pretty sure I can find a way to get a summer job.

Hot Garbage

I had my first interview yesterday, and had my second today. It feels good to have them over with. How'd they go? Fine. I'll keep you all posted.

The highlight of my day yesterday happened after my interview. I decided because of all the time spent prepping for interviews I was just going to just veg before class which meant that some sesame chicken and HBO onDemand was in order. As mentioned previously, the "Chinese Food" in Ann Arbor is weak sauce. Regardless, I was craving some sesame chicken. I placed my order and waited. The place I went to is a fast-foodish chinese joint...probably 6 tables, with most of their business coming from take-out. Anyway, so these two girls are sitting together and they're finishing up. One girl asks for a container to take her left-overs home. The other girl had some food on her plate but I guess she didn't feel like making a second meal out of it. This guy, a student, leans over and says, "would you mind if I took your leftovers?" All ten people in the place are watching this happen. The girl, clearly taken aback says fine. So this guy commences shoveling Lo Mein into a takeout container, all whilst making crazy awkward conversation. It was embarrassing. I was practically blushing because I was embarrassed. It reminded me of Million Dollar Baby. Remember when Hillary Swank took the scraps of meat when she was clearing plates at the diner. Remember what she said...

"It's fer my dawg"

Under no circumstances (ok, maybe under certain circumstances, ie, something Cloverfield-esque was going down) would I take scraps from a stranger's plate, but if I did I'd at least throw the old "It's fer my dawg" line. Instead, this guy says, "You girls seem like clean people" as he shoveled in every last drop of brown sauce. Clean people? I'm no doctor, but college-aged girls would not pass bunk inspection, among many other inspections. I'm not going to get into it, but let me just present Exhibit A...a favorite at Rick's, the "shark bowl"


I'm not exactly sure why they call this a "shark bowl". Maybe it's because people swarm around it. I don't know. But look at all the straws. Clearly this is meant for sharing, and I assume people aren't keeping track of which straw belongs to which person.

This is my guess of who might be sharing a shark bowl on a given night....
A bunch of normal girls...









and....our good friend...Bubs, from The Wire.

So you tell me, how clean is that shark bowl, and don't give me the "alcohol kills the germs" nonsense. Do you even know where Bubs has been? The docks, Hamsterdam, up in the vacants with Sherrod.

My point is that the guy assuming those Lo Mein noodles were safe and clean was questionable at best. What's that line, "Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach a man to ask strangers for scraps of Lo Mein and he'll eat forever? forever ever? forever ever?"

BASF

Eli Manning, stop playing with my emotions.

It's really grey out today, as it is just about every day here in Ann Arbor. Perhaps it was the grey sky that made me drop a resume for BASF last week. BASF owns that monstrosity of a plant right off the New Jersey turnpike. You can see the plumes of smoke billowing from the plant from miles away. I google earfed BASF so you can see what I'm talking about...here...

When I told my Dad I was applying for a job at BASF (Florham Park Office...Flo Park represent) he said what is it exactly they do again, to which I replied "I'm pretty sure they don't make the products I buy, but I'm pretty sure they make the products I buy better". So why did I apply for such a job? I don't really know. Probably because they are close to New York, and because I memorized their slogan...which if you are a little slow on the draw this morning is ""We don't make a lot of the products you buy. We make a lot of the products you buy better." And that's trademarked by the way. BASF is far and away my favorite company that I have absolutely no idea what they actually do.

Yesterday morning a friend came up to me and asked me for some advice on his interview with a bank. First of all, when you're coming to me for that kind of advice, I mean, I'll do my best to help but there are at least one or two, maybe three people out there better qualified to help. I asked him why he was applying for the job since he was focusing on consulting. He said "I turbo dropped", and I said "you turbo chinesed what now?". Turbo drop is apparently when you drop your resume for a billion different places, which is I guess kind of what happened with me and BASF. I didn't realize being a moron had such a fancy name these days, but I'm rolling with it.

So this brings me to a little anecdote. I went to Red Hot Lovers yesterday, which is basically a hot dog place down the block and is actually owned by an old friend. I'm there probably once a week, and despite dogs being their specialty, I usually get the "Grand Slam", or as I like to call it, the "Grand Slamburger". Basically, a double cheeseburger with everything. So I go to the counter and I order a Grand Slam and the guy says they're out of Grand Slam patties, which as far as I am concerned is the pinnacle of unholiness for a dog and burger joint. I asked if he was messing with me because I saw the line cook flipping burgers at the grill not 15 feet away. He explained that the charburgers were not the same patties as the patties used for a Grand Slam, because they were thicker and essentially better. I'm paraphrasing, because I also heard "Shit", "I don't know", and "It's my first day here" in his explanation. I just tell him to put two charburgers on instead (yeah business school problem solving skills) because it wasn't my fault they can't stock properly.

Did I make the product I bought? No, the cook did. Did I make the product I bought better. Yes.

So I say this: BASF, I live your brand. If you decide to move your offices to Manhattan then come holler at me but until them I'm going to just hang out slamburger style.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

How do you know when it's time to leave a bar? When two guys get in a fight and fists start flying.

How do you know when it's time to stay at a bar? When an Asian girl punches the birthday girl in the breast, and the birthday girl takes her magic wand and smacks the Asian girl in the face. When I see a girl with a birthday hat on get punched in the breast, you better believe it's going to make the blog. I'm sure both of their fathers would've been proud.

Suffice to say, when these two fights happened within one minute of each other last night I was very conflicted as to what I was going to do. This Asian girl had the full on "Asian blush" from drinking and then she turned even more red after the fight. She looked like an heirloom tomato that was wearing way too much mascara. Naturally, the thoughts of tomatoes suddenly made me hungry, so my friend and I just decided the smartest thing to do was get a slice of pizza.

Maybe I'm getting a little long in the tooth, but watching these children lose their minds at the bar yesterday was shocking. Obviously part of the reason is the excessive drinking of bottom shelf alcohol, but it's also because walking to a bar with no jacket and then going into a bar that's a terrarium-friendly 75 degrees just screws with the mind and body.

Hey kids of suburbia...remember making terrariums...or should I say, hey mothers of suburbia out there...remember making these for your kids when they told you at 9pm the night before it was due?


But anyway, last night, I rocked a sweater, and again I got a comment that clearly I wasn't an undergrad. But then I flipped the script and pulled some David Blaine street magic on this girl. I said, where are you from? She said New York. I said, "why are you going to tell me New York, when both you and I know you're from Long Island". Then we realized we lived next door to one another and I told her I'd seen her walking to class last week. She said, well what was I wearing, and I said "tights and Uggs". Two for two. Then I tried to make her personality reappear. Two out of three ain't bad.

I'm going to go to bed now. I'm going to the local mall tomorrow to look for some new spectacles, as my other ones broke. I saw on another blog that you could set up a survey and have people vote on things. I wish I could do that with some frames, but I'm not that tech savvy yet. More later...

Stop Stealing My Jobs

Before we left for Winter Break we had a final Corporate Finance meeting. And yes, I assure you it is as nerdy as you think it is. The guy who ran the meeting was a second-year MBA who volunteered his time to shepherd the MBA1s through the recruiting process. He said that when we came back to school we'd be able to feel tension in the air that wasn't there previously. This tension, he said, was caused by everyone freaking out about recruiting. His advice: Go to school, get your business done, and then get out. This isn't going to be particularly hard for me because that's how I operate anyway. You'll never find me in the lobby passed out in front of my laptop with my iPod and a half-eaten burrito. I prefer to do that in the privacy of my own apartment, thank you very much.

For the past three days I've basically been searching the Michigan job board, eating pretzels and hummus, and going to the gym. I've ventured out of my apartment exactly once each day. One day I decided to pick up my coursepacks at the library, which meant I had to walk to school. What I saw as I walked in was what I expected...a lot of foreign students sitting at tables, passed out in front of their computers. But I was surprised when I went into the library and saw a couple of my close friends studying up for their banking interviews. I wasn't so much surprised that they were actually studying, but it was kind of weird to see four friends in the library and not anyone else in there. Shouldn't they be watching youtube or crushing beer cans on their head? Anything, but being the only four people in the libes, you know? And then I got to thinking that different people are going to handle the next few weeks (recruiting) in different ways. So I decided to making sweeping generalization and lump people into groups...

1. The Oh Just Shut Ups
"Oh, woe is me, I have three interviews a week for the next three weeks. Everyone wants to interview me. Feel bad for me because I'm so damn smart that everyone is dying to talk to me and take me out to fancy dinners". Somebody get me my violin. I'm not saying they're bad people, but I am saying that they know they're smart, I know they're smart, so just be smart and shut up about it. The Oh Just Shut Ups talk about recruiting non-stop, whether they're at a bar or in the cafeteria. They get five offers and then have the chutzpah to bitch about choosing.

2. The Voodoo Doll Keepers
So quiet these ones are. They'll get all the interviews and not say a word. You know they keep voodoo dolls that bear uncanny resemblances to you, and when you cramp up in the middle of the night you wonder whether it's dehydration or a pin prick from 5 blocks away. These folks will be wearing a suit for the next three weeks and you'll debate whether they sleep in that suit, or whether they even sleep at all. You always see them in the lobby with the Wall Street Journal, watching everyone all shifty-eyed like. They'll take a crap in your backpack and then walk away, and then they'll get the job you wanted. These lads and lasses scare the shit out of me.




3. ChickenHeads
Hey Ladies...how many Chanel jackets do you have? You gotta go change before your next interview because you wore the same top back at the first meet-and-greet in September? Really? That was like four months ago. I'm pretty sure nobody will notice. These are the students who run around like chickens without their damn heads. You know EVERYTHING about what's going with their recruiting process, and you don't give a shit either. You know they have a small salad dressing stain on their shirt, but you don't want to upset them so you just keep it to yourself. ChickenHeads end up getting jobs, but they also end up crying at some point in the next three weeks. You offer them a shoulder to cry on, especially if they're cute, which for the most part eliminates a solid portion of the woman I go to school with. Zing.

4. The Hunt-and-Peckers
Similar to your mother's typing technique, the hunt-and-peckers seek out a company and peck away. You might hear them say "Oh, I'm totally feeling the Yum! Brands internship. Did you see what they did in the market yesterday? I've made some really good connections there, and I think I can really see myself there". They've gone to every one of the company's events and they know the names of the recruiters' kids. You go up to a hunt-and-pecker and say, "Bro, how come I didn't see you at the Yum! Brands dinner last night?" Then you watch them freak out, and you just laugh to yourself because the Yum! Brands didn't host a dinner last night. They end up getting the job though.

5. The Easter Eggers
These morons like to put all of their eggs in one or two or three baskets. They sit at their desks dreaming of getting a job at a company that hires 2 people worldwide per summer. And then these people escape reality by writing in their blogs instead of reading their boring-ass accounting coursepack, and they'll come home after playing basketball and melt some of that swiss cheese on the hamburger they made last night. They have Accounting at 8:00a tomorrow morning and they are really really not looking forward to it. They also have to do their laundry sometime in the next two days. Hi Mom.

6. The James Bonders
The James Bonders are smooth operators. They call them James Bonders because every time they have an interview they kill it. They're confident and look super sharp in their suits and have full windsor knots so big that it makes Michael Irvin look like Ragged Dick (pre-riches, of course). These folks get the job. They also date undergrads.

I could go on, but the moral of the story is you have to find a happy medium somewhere, and not let all these crazy people rain on your parade, or ruffle your feathers, or pee in your canteen. You feel me? If/When I get a job, believe you me, I'm going to light this whole blog on fiyah, and you will see the flames all the way from NYC. I'm gonna go find me a chickenhead now. Nighty night.

All Aboard the WT Express...Wooo...Wooo

...Next stop Orlando.

I'm back in Ann Arbor, and there is a lot of snow on the ground. I'm happy to be back, but not necessarily to go to class on Monday. I got home tonight and I made a true college meal, eggs and creamed spinach. But that's not particularly exciting. What is particularly exciting is that I got to see arguably the best bowl game (thus far) of the season. Jimbo and I left the beautiful weather in Palm Beach at about 3:30 on New Year's Eve and drove top down up the Florida turnpike. By the time we got into Orlando, it was cold, pouring, and people were giving us looks because the top was still down and we were getting poured on. Sorry, Orlandoans, it's not easy to pull off to the side of your shitty highway to put the top up when the shoulder is closed. We had bigger fish to fry though...it was New Year's Eve. We met up with six of my friends from Michigan and proceeded to have a seriously awesome time..

Popped Collars...apparently "in" yet again for the new year

The next morning we were up early because Michigan kicked off at 1p. And while, according to ESPN, 91% of America thought the Wolverines would become "Gatorbait" that afternoon, um, it didn't quite work out that way. It was grey, it was cold, it was situated in the middle of the swamp/'hood and it was a beautiful thing to see Michigan smack Florida around and win the game. It was equally beautiful to see all 40,000 or so Gator fans and their 200 or so collective teeth walk out of the stadium while the Michigan faithful stuck around to see the trophy presentation and to hear some parting words from Lloyd Carr.

The sun finally came out but it was freaking freezing at that point and it was time to go back to the bars for a few celebratory cold ones and some good-natured gloating. The next morning my friends took off and I was left to kill a few hours before I took the train back to Palm Beach. I figured while it would be a particularly long train ride, at least I would see a little bit of America. I thought it was kind of an appropriate thing to do, you know, given that it was an election year, and I could kind of simulate a presidential candidate traveling through the middle of NOWHERE from one campaign stop to the next. There were two women behind me as I waited in line to get on the train in Orlando. One woman offered this advice to her friend who was about to board the train. She said "Girl, call me when you get in, and if I don't pick up then call me next week, because you know my phone bill is the last bill I pay every month". They both laughed, as did I, and we were off...

Every time I looked out the window I saw hawks circling. They circled over the orange groves in Winterhaven, they circled over the trailerparks in Seabring, they circled over the rusted cars in Kissimmee, and they circled over everything in between. It was as if the entire middle of the state was dead or dying and the hawks were ready to pick at the remains. Quite sad.

So here I am now, and I've got a few days until classes start, but unfortunately not a few days until the work begins. But between now and then get excited, get very excited, because The Wire is back starting this Sunday.