I did not get the internship. I cried and cried and spent an entire weekend playing Guitar Hero Metallica in attempts to console myself. It worked, I guess. I bounced back pretty fast and have some new prospects. My dad was a driving force behind that. At the mere mention of me "taking a break," he launches into a full-force campaign on how that's bullshit and I need to get back on the horse and blah blah blah. My dad always forgets we are girls. What finally reminded him this time was when I shakily confessed that I can take just so many doors slammed in my face...I physically can't endure "no thanks" after "no thanks." This is the point where he pauses, says he gets it but reminds me he is the last person to go to for sympathy. And that is when I remind him that I didn't ask for any.
I applied for a job with Mark's work as a Music Data Editor. Basically data entry but all music data: reviews, recommendations, etc. I also landed a sit-down with a blogging network called LimeLife that may be able to offer me a fulltime position "down the line." Fucking bleak ass journalism.
Anyway, Mark and I are apartment hunting this weekend which makes me extremely stoked. This will be my first apartment. I'm totally scared but more excited. We've been wanting to live together for so long and I've been dying to leave home ever since graduation. Not like I don't get along with mom or anything but...nigga needs her own space.