a little slow...

Sorry y'all, but things seem to be slowing down a bit as far as the job search goes, at least for today.  No career fairs on the horizon.  No interviews (yet... let's knock on wood).  School's been building up and I suppose that takes priority at times over this blog.  Don't worry, though, you half dozen who have visited this site once!!  IF you come back, I will be posting.  Silly little things like delays will not stop me from posting the tales of my battles with career services, climbing my way to the top of the job market ladder, and finding that perfect entry level job to toil hour after hour at in hopes of a promotion, raise, and proper use of the company car!!

And please, come back.

NOT INVITED...

Logging onto our career services web program today, I was greeted by the following two words in multiple boxes regarding my acceptance (or lack thereof) into interviewing for two big-name companies on our campus:

NOT INVITED

Needless to say, my heart cracked slightly at the sight of those two words.  

Why did they have to put it in such tones of rejection?  "Not invited."  Couldn't they have said something like, "Not selected, would you please consider applying in the future?" or at least something nicer?  "Not invited."  Like it's an exclusive party that I'm just not cool enough to get into.  "Not invited."  I know the last time I felt like this: it was when Greg my down-the-street neighbor had his birthday party in the fourth grade because I started hanging out wiht girls because they played handball and I played handball and I didn't think that was weird, and he and his friends thought it was a little strange because they liked playing football a lot more, but it wasn't really my fault that I'd rather get out my young aggression by smacking balls against walls than playing some pansy-ass touch version of a game where you should be tackling your oppenent and making them pray for mercy.  "Not invited."  It's like being rejected from prom from all of the girls in the school.  "Not invited."  Like the last time I called up some old friends to see if they wanted to rekindle the flames of amicability but instead they brushed me off saying that they had better things to do with their investment banker friends, who are a lot cooler than me because they make more money and get tables at clubs, which, by the way, I probably don't have the right kind of trendy clothes to get into anyway.  "Not invited."  I felt like maybe if I had put a fancy font on my resume they might have thought, "Well, he's cool enough to let into this soiree, let's bring him in," but instead they just said: "Not invited."  

It's funny how just those two days could turn my day upside-down on its head, because until then I was actually feeling pretty accepted by the world in which I live.  I still feel good about myself for the most part, but to not be invited based on a few lousy criteria and not on my actual ability... I tell you, I'd bring ten times the personality, audacity, and panache than any of the candidates who did get invited to these human resources conversations.

Not invited.

Fine.  I'll throw my own party.

converstation with my father...

I was talking with my father recently about what exactly I was doing on the Eastern seaboard with no job and a pithy 14 units in school.  The dialogue went something like this:

POPPABLOGGER: So, what have you been doing?  No job or internship this semester, fourteen credits--

ELBLOGGER: Six classes.

PB: Yeah, fourteen credits... so what exactly do you do?

ELB: Well, I've been getting really involved in school.  I'm on a few advisory boards, I'm part of a few clubs at school, I've been involved in my fraternity....

PB: Right.  Anything else?

ELB: I'm getting kind of intense on looking for a job.  Going to information sessions, career fairs, mock interviews, and networking.

PB: ....

ELB: What?  It's a full-time job looking for a job!!

PB: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

I don't know what was so funny.  I was being serious.  He laughed for like, a full minute, too.

inconsistency...

I notice that there are a few people actually visiting this site, yay!  I've accomplished my goal of my sitetracket not just being populated by myself.

Anyway, you'll notice there haven't been many posts for a while, but don't worry.  There should be a bunch backdated popping up in the next few days.  I got a little behind and wrote drafts, but never finished them.  This weekend is my catch-up weekend.

Be expecting.

And please come back.  I like to see my statcounter go up.  It means I'm doing this for more than just me, and it makes me feel less self-centered.  If you like me enough and have something to say, you can even comment.  Or you can always e-mail me at entrylevelblog@gmail.com.

Thanks, and see ya.

haiku...

Recruiting is so

Tiring, but I go on.

I need a stiff drink.

new york, new york...

There comes a time in every era where the era has to end.

My era in New York may very well be at its end.  And I have to deal with that.

I think I mentioned this in the about me post, but I'm originally from California.  Yes, sunny California.  Though, where I'm from it's more like "morning fog" California (welcome, Bay Area).  Thus, when I came to New York, I was going a long way from home.  Now, this gets hard during Thanksgiving and and my birthday when I can't go home, but I suppose it opens more doors upon graduating; I can stay in New York, or I can go to California.  Technically, I could go anywhere, but really, do I want to go live in the Midwest? (no offense, Midwesterners, but I'm a coastal guy--I need the beach, and blue states)

The problem is: am I done with New York?  I'll only have been here a bit short of four years by the time graduation rolls around, and I'm not sure if that's enough time.  I always just assumed I would stay here.  How I would balance that with going home for Christmas, I had not thought about.  I mean, I like New York.  I've liked it since I've been here.  Besides the obligatory "home for Christmas" and a stint studying abroad, I really haven't left.  I like the hours (24), I like the food, I like the culture (somewhat), and I like the environment.  Does San Fransisco really compare in the same way?

How do you know when you're finished living some place?  Sure, I get discouraged that I don't have a car and that my apartment is the size of a shoebox.  I want some fresh air sometimes and nature that isn't Central Park.  But am I really going to be ready to be done with this city in May?

Somehow, I don't think so.

getting down...

I'm going to get serious for a minute.

I was recently asked if I ever get tired.  Tired of the search.  Tired of the school.  Tired of being "on" all the time.  The answer?  Of course.  Of course you get tired of working so hard for so long just to get a little recognition and find yourself in a good job.  

Think about it.  In high school I worked hard to get into a good college.  I thought that would be the end.  But it's not.  In college, you work hard to get a good job.  So, in a sense, you're working hard in high school to get a good job, too.  And then, I assume, you work hard at your job so you get more money, more responsibility, and more houses in Beverly Hills next to Will Smith.

Who doesn't get tired?

It seems to get magnified in these leaps from one era to another.  In high school, when applying for college, I was always tired.  The day that I found out I got into my university, I was in bed, asleep, skipping school because I was so tired that I had made myself a little sick.  IB classes, AP classes, projects, finals, social pressure--it just got to be too much.  When I found out that I had made it in, it seemed like there was an elation in my life and I could deal with those classes, those projects, and those exams.  Little did I know that four years later I would be in the same place, but an even larger culmination of my life: a job.

I imagine that, when I get a job (hope hope hope), that it'll feel the same way that it did when I got into college.  I'll feel a sense of comfort and stability, at least for the foreseeable future, and I'll be able to sit down and actually enjoy a glass of wine.

The truth is, it's a lot of work to find a job.  Those of you who are looking know this to be true.  It's a lot of work.  You have to update your resume, find places to send them, send them, wait for responses, follow up, wait for responses, follow up, wait, wait, wait, interview, wait, interview, wait, wait, and you hope the end point isn't a stock rejection letter.  If it is, then it just makes you want to give up.

That's why I'm always "on."  If I ever turn off, which is sort of what I'm doing writing this blog entry, if I ever turn off, then reality swiftly smacks me in the face and shows me that my resume isn't as good as a lot of people's, my skills aren't as honed as some, and my connections aren't as good as I'm to believe they are.  Everyone else seems to calm, so collected.  Some people already have offers.  They know where their lives are going.  Where will mine go?  Where will I be, not just in five or ten years, but in five or ten months?

Uncertainty is not a comforting feeling.  In some cases it can be fun: traveling in Southeast Asia, going out on the town for an adventure, getting lost in the concrete jungle.  Uncertainty in contained physical aspects such as those is fine.  But when you are uncertain about your future, where you're going to be, and if you'll even be doing well enough for yourself to live off of your livelihood, I don't care who you are: it's not comforting.

You have to be "on" to come out of this with all of your neurons intact.  You need to be "on" to keep yourself going on through it.  You need to be "on" if you're going to trick yourself into believing you are more comfortable than reality would have you believe.

Sometimes, you are down.  But soon after, flip that switch or you ain't getting out of that sand trap you've set for yourself.

being a student forever...

I've decided that I'm going to put my life on a new plan:

I'm going to be a student forever.

I'll have my B.S. in May.  After that, I think the only natural progression is to an M.S. or an M.A.  That should take about two or three years.  Then, I'll go for a Ph.D.  That should take another three.  I'll decide I want to be a doctor then, and go get my M.D.  That'll take another four (let's be optimistic).  I'll go to law school, get my J.D., take another three years.  

I figure that if I can run from student loans so long as I'm a matriculated student, then there's no harm in getting myself into hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of debt.

I'll have five degrees.  And I'll be thirty-five.  Entry Level Blogger, BS, MA, PhD, MD, Esq.

Not nearly old enough to die.

I hear in Europe and England they have all sort of initials for higher education.  Maybe I can extend this idea over there....

lack of opportunity...

Let me talk about on-campus recruitment again, and how unfair my particular university is.

If you remember from this entry, I am required to attend a pair of seminars before I gain access to our on-campus recruitment and interviewing program.  Well, I attended the seminars and now you're reading the blog of one, certified, interviewing maven.  

The problem is that today I went and looked for jobs to apply for.  I selected all recruitment jobs and came up with a long list, exactly 358 long.  The problem?  351 of them were for financial analysts, tax auditors, investment bankers, hedge fund managers, and entry-level banking positions.

The seven that weren't?  Four of them were Macy's, one was Polo Ralph Lauren, one was L'Oreal, and one was Google.

Can't my school offer me more choice?  What about those thousands of poor kids who aren't majoring in finance and/or accounting?  Thanks, university.  I can see you're looking out for the wee ones.

haiku...

i say good spirit

no job, no luck, but so fun

optimism sucks