Thursday May 3, 2012. 1:42 AM. I am sitting in my room exchanging tweets with my friend Alicia from Dallas. Alicia live tweets her almost nightly craigslist prowl for jobs that usually devolves into a hunt for ridiculously pathetic personals. Soon our mutual followers join in, searching through their local craigslist ads looking for something funny to make us feel better about our personal lives. The personals section for New York City and adjacent towns is lackluster tonight, unlike Princeton where men are looking for someone to urinate on and Dallas where a woman begs for someone to pretend to be her grandmother. I decide to mine through gigs where I hit an unexpected piece of gold. No, it isn’t an adult baby looking for someone to change their diaper; it’s a listing for an internship at a small independent publisher looking for part time student interns. I pause and read the listing a couple times, realizing it’s surprisingly suited for me. I muddle through my documents looking for the perfect writing sample to send across what kind of writer I am. I settle on a morbid reflection about a mental ward. I write a cover letter that I think stands out, filled with my brand of dry humor and semi self-deprecation that still manages to make me seem like a viable candidate. I send this out along with a copy of my resume and tell my mom to light a candle for me. I don’t believe in God, but the candles lift my spirits (and they smell great too).
Two weeks later and I get the gig. So here I am: a publishing intern at the Campus Clipper. Founded by Cassandra Fox, The Campus Clipper produces a coupon magazine students as well as a guide book for NYC students written by NYC students. As a publishing intern here my responsibilities and opportunities include blog writing, social media promotion, and the publication of an e-book. For my blog here I’ll be focusing on one of my favorite past times: critical analysis of television shows. For the Campus Clipper Blog I’ll be writing about another favorite past time, eating authentic ethnic foods. The only way I can describe how I feel about my internship here is enthusiastic anxiousness. I feel like my blood is lighter than my body and is trying to evaporate through my skin whenever I get on the train here. But it isn’t fear: its excitement and hopeful anticipation.