This blog is about to get a LOT more interesting.

I didn’t post anything last week because I was in Madrid. It’s strange how it all happened, because I was sitting there thinking how I was going to have a week of vacation from French class and I didn’t know where to go, and how I wished I had money, when….

I got this phone call from an international media company inviting me to a job interview/training in Madrid. Like, four days later. Specifically, on Easter Monday. Which means I’d have to fly on Easter Sunday. Which, as everyone knows, is the day EVERY SPANIARD comes home from his week-long Semana Santa vacation. I barely even remembered applying for this job, though further reflection has led me to believe that I found it on Monster and applied as a long shot. The ad said something about traveling 11 months of the year to countries all over the world, and involved some kind of media aspect, and that was enough for me.

Anyway, a ridiculously expensive plane ticket and many international phone calls later, I was in Madrid. I went to the initial interview, and found myself being invited (three of us out of a group of ten) to a selective training for the next four days. Suddenly I went from my tiny little 2-star hostel room to a four-star hotel (where, by the way, the service was a lot crappier) and had to plan outfits that would qualify as “business attire.” (I own exactly two suits. I haven’t had to wear either one more than five times).

Tuesday came and four more people joined us. In total we were seven, from the USA, Belgium, Australia, Mexico, Argentina, Italy, and Canada. There was a four-day whirlwind of paper and presentations and media and sales pitches and neckties and coffee, and then on Thursday night I found myself being offered a job as an International Sales and Media Consultant, which involves traveling around the globe, interviewing CEOs, presidents, and Prime Ministers for special reports in publications like the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and the Independent, among others. I prefer the title “Secret Agent Woman.”

Of course, there was celebrating, and a hotel room pre-party (complete with serenades and drinking games) and a super-exclusive magazine launch party where Alejando Sanz’s girlfriend was supposedly in attendance, and champagne, and dancing, and falling down in the middle of the street, and stealing goody bags, and owning the dance floor. Then there was a moment of deep self-reflection, where I was reminded of all the things I was hoping for when I moved to Belgium: the chance to actually stay somewhere for a while, a stable, simple job, a chance at a relationship, an end to the drama and chaos of the recent past.

This job is none of those things.

And yet, I have to take it. On Friday we (sleepily) went over the details, had questions, answered those questions, which led to more questions. We left weighed down with papers and details and names and Things to Remember. We went out for tapas (oh, tortilla, pimientos, jamon, oh my!), and then went dancing until the wee hours of the morning when we caught our flights back to our respective destinations, with a contract and a start date and as much insecurity as ever.

I am supposed to be leaving on Monday, April 7 for my first 3-5 month traineeship project. I have no idea where I am going, and it could literally be ANYWHERE in the world, from Angola to Kazakhstan. I even get a press pass!

I plan to take advantage of this new job to create a better blog, and of course, add tons of photos! I have no idea what’s in store, but I am sure it’s going to be interesting!

The craziness is about to begin!


5 thoughts on “BIG NEWS

      • You know… Junior at Columbia now, so school (had my fifth all nighter in a week last night) and the city when I have time to explore it. Working at NASA’s Jet Propulsion lab this summer, so driving out there to Southern California and seeing the country is this year’s form of frantic travel (God, I miss Europe). Then, uh, applying to whatever’s next in the fall. Life!
        Wow, Greece. I stayed with a bunch of Cypriots when I was in Thessaloniki, and though they were great great guys who showed me the amazing life (Frappes in a street-side cafe all afternoon, dinner at 11 PM with like five courses, dancing all night, then the beach the next day), they might’ve been the most Xenophobic folk I’ve ever met. Funny that I used a greek-root word to say that.

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