Things to be thankful for / happy about:

1. You’re not homeless.
2. You’re not going hungry. Not any time soon, at least.
3. You have money to spend on little luxuries. These include things like impulsive retail therapy buys, frozen yogurt, almond milk, toys for the dog, baked goods, supplies for baking, cooking, jewelry-making and all of your other expensive hobbies… 
4. You have a job. It does not pay immensely well, but it pays comfortably enough for your limited expenses.
5. You have really low rent.
6. You are living in, really, quite a beautiful condominium. 
7. You are not living alone. 
8. You do not have to find somebody to eat dinner with you each night to avoid being lame. 
9. You do not have to be scared at night for various reasons, including (i) the homeless man that lurks in the bushes when you take the dog out at night, (ii) increasing reports of violence on the local news, or (iii) an overly hyperactive imagination.
10. You do not have to deal with a roommate.
11. In fact, both sets of parents have consented (somewhat grudgingly) and allowed you to live with your boyfriend.
12. And you also have an adorable dog who does love you with every ounce of his tiny happy heart.
13. You finally fulfilled your dream of getting a dog on your own after being deprived of animal companionship for 8 long miserable years.
14. You don’t have to interact with people you don’t like from college anymore. 
15. You don’t have to interact with people you don’t like from high school either.
16. You live in a really nice spot in the city — good walking distance to all your favorite places.
17. …

Unfortunately, I still feel as if I’m in the same place I was a year ago. I’m still unsure of myself. I don’t understand what happened to the immensely confident little girl that graduated from high school in 2006. What happened?  

Why do I want so much out of life? Wanting this much just makes me frustratingly unhappy. I see plenty of other people who are quite happy just the way things are — but they will never go anywhere in life; they will never make a difference in the world because they don’t care. 

It hasn’t quite hit me yet that I live in Center City. Some days I wake up and I feel like I’m on vacation. Going home after work doesn’t feel like “home”. I really feel like I’ve taken up some sort of extended stay at a hotel, and a particularly barren one at that.

Perhaps it’s because we don’t have a couch yet. And because we don’t have a couch, I don’t have a rug, a nicely painted canvas, and other wall decor. There are just too many forlornly loose ends laying around right now because we’re too busy with our working lives. It’s gotten to the point that it is perfectly acceptable to watch TV on a Dick’s tailgating chair. 

But most of all, I really don’t feel as though I’m living at home because of all the great eats to explore in Philadelphia. Henry and I don’t typically go out when we’re at a place we can call “home”, and when we do, we tend to order massive portions because the two of us are just very greedy, gastronomically speaking, of course.

But we sort of overdid it this weekend. Saturday night, we went hunting for a savory dinner within walking distance. La Viola - packed on both sides of the street. Monk’s - 45 minute wait. Ernesto’s - well, I’d been there before and it was a little pricier than what we would have liked. After a lot of Yelping on our iPhones and a little sample of the latest Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets water ice sloshing around in our bellies, we found Giorgio on Pine.

It’s a nice bustling place - exposed brick wall inside the restaurant and an open kitchen that periodically boasts bursts of sunset-orange flame. The owner must have asked us how we were doing three or four times before we ordered. When our appetizer appeared, we were floored. Their Mussels and Clams are excellent, drenched in a rich, flavorful cream sauce. A little salty, but good nonetheless. Per our waitress’ suggestion, we left only shells and a thin film of sauce for the kitchen to clean after devouring most of it with some of Giorgio’s complimentary bread.

Instead of ordering one entree, I ordered two sides of pasta - the Fettucine and the Gnocchi. They are essentially just half-sized portions of a regular entree, and at half the price as well. Though, I personally consider a side of their pasta to be a normal serving size. However, for a first visit, this was a wonderful opportunity to avoid making difficult decisions and try all the pasta I wanted. The Fettucine happened to be one of the specials of the day — it was absolutely amazing. Juicy, succulent shrimp and homemade fettucine, tossed with a bit of chopped tomatoes and mushrooms in a delectable white wine garlic sauce - that was definitely a good call.

I usually get Gnocchi at most Italian restaurants because I love mushy things. However, Gnocchi is usually hit or miss, as sometimes, places like Olive Garden can really screw it up with a cheesy cream sauce that is over the top. Giorgio, on the other hand, presented some perfectly mushy potato dumplings nicely balanced with beef ragout. Though it was not spectacular, it was better than most of the Gnocchi I have been foolish enough to try. It’s also nice to know that the “side of pasta” serving of Gnocchi was just enough for me to get my fix - so it was well worth my money in my opinion.

Sunday morning, we slept in and woke up starving for more good food. Henry did his customary online research and we hopped over to Famous Fourth Street Delicatessen, the 18th street location. There, we tried the Hot Pastrami Sandwich, the Famous Chicken Soup, and a nice thick slice of their Blackout cake (2 in. x 6 in. x 7 in.) We polished off the pastrami sandwich effortlessly, every greasy sinew and each speck of crumbly smoked pastrami crust. It really could make at least three sandwiches (thinking in terms of our appetites), but not the five that some people purport. But it really is deliciously good - there is absolutely no need to go to Carnegie Deli in New York when I can get this kind of pastrami 2 blocks away.

We also ended up with a big bucket of soup on our table, as the Famous Chicken Soup is quite massive. It’s a Jewish style soup with chicken broth, pulled chicken, carrots, onions, farfalle pasta, rice, kasha, kreplach, and one gigantic matzo ball in the center. Yes, we took that home with 2/3 of the chocolate cake. Personally, the soup was pretty standard (I like the matzo ball soup at Marathon Grill more,) but the Blackout cake was to die for. A little pricey, but it’ll last half a week in my fridge! Perfect, densely packed chocolate cake with thick decadent frosting - I’ll definitely go back just for the cake!

And the verdict? We’ll most definitely be going back! Hopefully the next time, we’ll have a couch to come home to. 

I just bought a brand new suit from Banana Republic! On a personal level, I am giddily ecstatic about my purchase. 40% off and free shipping — I saved $120! As a money-conscious “young professional”, I should be positively out-of-my-mind to pass that up.  

On the other hand, my company has been looking into developing a public portfolio of stocks. This recent, but intense discussion has definitely set off a lot of thinking in my head about what drives and hinders the economy. And quite frankly, on a macroeconomic level, I know that I should be alarmed by this desperate gasp for cash flow, masked as happy-go-lucky corporate “generosity”.

More and more companies each day are succumbing to this “hits” business model. As they repeatedly entice their customers with “exclusive” sales, they inevitably take a “hit” by accepting slimmer margins. They then wait nervously for revenues from the increased volume of sale-induced orders to outstrip normal revenues gained through ordinary average order value. And really, what this all boils down to is that the economy is still in the gutter — at least according to consumer spending, with it’s inescapable lag.

I recall typing “Abercrombie & Fitch promo code” into the Google search bar a year ago, thinking dejectedly to myself that it would benefit the world if the company would just make use of it’s promo code field on the checkout screen. Search results pulled up plenty of sneaky tactics that would yield minor discounts via A&F customer service reps, and led to many fervent assertions that A&F would never ever ever ever utilize discount codes. Yet that era of A&F price immunity has passed, and today, my inbox is constantly spammed with once-fabled A&F promo codes. Seems like a pretty good proxy for the state of retail to me. 

But fast-forward to next week: when I snuggle into my flattering grey melange trousers and don that sleek charcoal suit jacket, I’m sure this will all conveniently fail to cross my mind… what a simple creature I am.

My GPA at the beginning of senior year was far from perfect. It was completely in the dumps. Even people in high school could tell you that my GPA sucked. While I had a great resume in terms of community achievements, extracurriculars, and work experience, my GPA consistently kept employers at bay. It’s not very surprising that I received only a meager handful of interviews (I estimate about 3) with my resume alone. 

I can probably attribute another 3 interviews to my networking efforts at On-Campus Recruiting (OCR) events. My tips for OCR networking would be to 1) formulate and ask questions that you would have if you were really planning to work for the firm, and 2) to bring something to the table — if you run a business on the side or a non-profit, offer up a board or advisory position. 

Regarding 1), it doesn’t help to ask a recruiter whether they like their job or about the projects they’re working on — most likely, they’re bound by confidentiality agreements and can’t tell you much. Instead, I liked to ask for a rundown of a day-in-their-life, or ask them about specific metrics and tools they use on a daily basis. These are questions that give a more tangible answer that can help you better understand the profession and prepare for the job. As for 2), I happened to work for a non-profit consultancy at the time and we were looking for people to fill our Board of Directors — I ended up being more memorable than most people because I could leverage that offer and talk up my involvements at the same time.

However, the bulk of interviews that I scored (about 10 or so) resulted from waking up early each day, dressing up as if I had an interview, and hitting the OCR suite at about 8:30 am. I’d take a few copies of my resume (and Interview Request forms for the following day’s line-up of interviews), smile grimly to myself, and massage the tired bags that lingered persistently beneath my eyes before heading out.

First, I checked the interview board for cancellations. With this information, I approached recruiters at all the companies I was interested in. I would briefly introduce myself and explain that I’d love to interview with the firm for reasons X, Y, and Z (having done my research the night before.) Then, I’d wrap it up, explaining that though I didn’t seem like much in numbers (referencing my GPA), I sincerely hope they’d take a second look at my resume after meeting me again (since I went to every evening OCR event) or in person (if the firm did not have night events), and I’d very much appreciate it if they would reconsider me for the open slot (or should a slot opened up.)

And sure enough (on good days,) at some point in the next 3 hours, I would get a call inviting me to interview because that extra effort ensured I was fresh on their minds. Though many of these companies did not give me an offer, the majority of them told me that they genuinely admired my tenacity and courage. 

It is without a doubt very difficult to carry your head high when there is an intense barrage of rejections to face (especially when you are actively flinging yourself in that situation on a daily basis), but I would say it’s necessary to truly understand what you want to do, and what works and what doesn’t when it comes to charming employers. Truth be told, this is an excruciating process to put yourself through and quite frankly, not that many people are terribly fond of doing what I did (borderline masochistic emotional torture). But that in itself is a big plus — you’ll stand out just because you did it.

Overall, it was an extremely humbling experience, and I ended up making some contacts (which I keep in touch with via LinkedIn) that truly believed in my intellectual worth. I also picked up valuable communications skills and learned how to effectively “sell” myself as a candidate. If anything, it amply prepared me for the interview that did land me a job, as I am now happily employed at a firm that has given me the exact opportunities I originally planned to tackle 3 or 4 years down the line. So, if you are in my shoes, I wouldn’t expect to get a job offer early in the process — but when you do, it’ll most likely be a better fit than you ever imagined.

To be fair, I had a somewhat excusable reason for my low GPA (something that can be considered an extenuating circumstance.) And I inherently believed that I had something to offer companies. So this is by no means the go-ahead to dive into OCR with a low GPA and some poorly timed drunken escapades or a reckless freshman year to blame. You really need a strong emotional support network (friends, significant other, family, mentor etc.) — because you will break down occasionally — and a healthy, unwavering sense of self-confidence to take this OCR approach. However, I hope this will help prospective job seekers with low GPAs understand the truth — companies do not look lightly upon a poor GPA. It does not matter how life-threatening your circumstances, you’ll still deal with the skepticism and have a hard(er) time getting your foot through the door. 

Despite this, don’t let a low GPA deter you from participating in the OCR process. Build on your strengths and have an arsenal of positive accomplishments to offset that GPA. Make sure companies understand you are hardworking, but not necessarily in the traditional sense.  And most importantly, you just have to work harder than other OCR-goers — and unfortunately, that’s just something we have to accept.