After four years of living off your parents dime, you're on your own. Any semblance of idealism that you developed during college quickly disappears when you realize that you'll never see a large portion of your paycheck (if you're one of the lucky ones who has found employment in the worst recession in our country's' history). The apartments are shoeboxes, New York public transportation is frightening and you can't afford the designer duds that only a few months ago made The Devil Wears Prada/young professional struggle seem worth it. Fighting the good fight while wearing Loubitans and the perfect Catherine Malandrino dress didn't seem that bad when I day-dreamed about it during my three hour commencemenet ceremony a year ago.
Finding employment wasn't easy for me and is still a challenge for many of my peers. Considering the economic state of the country, we are forced to compete with our friends and older professionals who are seeking employment due lay-offs.
When I first returned home after graduation, my mother encouraged me to get creative and said that I should always be looking for a job. A few days later, I went out for the night with a few of my close friends. At our first stop of the night, as we ordered a few beers, I was approached by three older gentlemen who inquired about the color of my dress (a conservative Lilly Pullitzer number - don't hate, I went to college in Connecticut). I told them it was cerulean. I have always played close attention to detail. I guess they enjoyed my answer and introduced themselves. All three worked in advertising, so as a Comm. major and a former advertising intern, I asked for their advice about how to find a job in advertising. All three gave me their cards and I took my mother's advice and followed up with them the next day.
Maybe it was my own naivete, or the fact that I had blatently mentioned my boyfriend at the time, but I was surprised (shocked, even) to receive the following response to my email inquiry...
This e-mail was followed up with many emails from this individual saying that he was "willing to help" I did not reply to any of them. This was my first glimpse at the reality of post-grad life and taught me that I'd have to expect this sort of thing going forward (a sense of humor is imperative).
If I had responded, it would have sounded like this:
Dear Steve,
You are old enough to be my father. You should be more careful when you try to pick up girls in Murray Hill under the guise of helping them out with their careers, as most of them are 17.
Regards,
Cait
So I found a job and got an apartment in a great location where I could park my car outside. Too good to be true? Yes. I awoke last Saturday morning to find that someone had stolen "Big Red", my crappy 1997 Honda CRV, leaving me car-less. I decided to craft the following poster to be the good neighbor and warn everyone who might also park in front of the building.
I hope this at helps out my neighbors. I also hope they enjoy the cartoon. I feel as though the cartoon accurately reflects my emotions: my gypsy tears and the pain of realizing that I no longer have a car and now that I need save for a new car, I will never be able to afford the larger Louis Vuitton bag that I currently refer to as the "Mama" of my current bag. Baby is an orphan.
The shining beacon of hope among this bleak period in your life is that you're not in it alone. All of your friends are here with me and we can commiserate with each other.
Here's an email that one of my friends recently had to send to her landlord:
Here's to being 23 and broke. Life's an adventure.
