Hello 2010.

And then, just a few weeks ago, as I was buying a Christmas tree, I got the best present ever.

I GOT A JOB.

Needless to say, it was a relief. AND I LIKE IT. A LOT.

In 2009, despite my ordeal, I managed to move into an apartment that I absolutely love. For the first time since I moved to New York, I really have a home. I launched my professional website. I founded a literary quarterly. I continued to write, and thank you to my editors at Bookslut, The Second Pass, This Recording, Time Out New York, Identity Theory, More Intelligent Life, Planet Magazine, and The 99%.

Shout-out to my girl, Lady Gaga. Thanks for giving me something to dance to when times were tough.



Things that kept me going in 2009. Thanks to all.

So here's to you, 2010. Show us what you got.

Fuck you, 2009.

This image was taken from the lovely Escape to New York.

In January 2009 I got laid off.

On January 12, 2009, I started a new job, thinking it was a miracle.

It wasn't.

For six months, I worked at a desk for ten hours, with no lunch break, in fact, no breaks whatsoever. It was terrible. If I had to go to the bathroom, I had to ask someone to watch the phone. Very frequently my request was denied.


Day after day, I scoured the internet for a better job. I didn't find one.

Some mornings, walking to the L train, I wept.

On June 19, 2009, I got laid off. Again.

This time, it wasn't so easy to find a job. I applied and received unemployment benefits.

I went on countless interviews, most of them I was "overqualified" for, them being editorial assistant jobs, a job I had already worked for nearly three years. One potential employer actually told me, "I'm a bitch. I'll make life hard for you. Do you still want this job?"

On my way out of the interview, I cried.

Another potential employer mocked me in an interview for a misuse of boldface. FUCK YOU, bitch. How do you like that use of boldface?


I didn't get jobs because I didn't have enough journalism experience. I didn't get them because the boss decided to hire her friend's niece. I didn't get them because there weren't any. Literally. One day after I found out I didn't get a job I wanted, the entire department was laid-off. Canceled. Destroyed.

I went to a temping agency because I was desperate. They offered me the most wildly inappropriate jobs, not consistent with my skills set, nor meeting the minimum 40% of my previous gross wages. One time, they offered me to interview for one of those jobs. I turned them down. They reported me to the government. I lost my unemployment benefits, and now I owe the government money. If you are unemployed, please feel free to e-mail about this. I would never want this to happen to anyone else. You need to know your rights.

One afternoon, I realized I had forgotten to send in my Cobra payment. They discontinued my health insurance. The payment was one day late. I had to beg to be reinstated.

My former boss refused to act as a positive reference on my job interviews in the worst economic recession since The Great Depression.

Again, I cried.


Throughout all of this, my mom, my boyfriend, and my friends offered an intense amount of support, talking to me on the phone, paying for my meals, taking me out for a drink, patting me on the back and telling me how they weren't worried. That I'd find something. My boyfriend bore the brunt of my frustration, my depressive moods, my anger at the situation. He's an absolute saint, and no matter what happens, I will never forget his ultimate kindness and support through what was the darkest period in my life to date. If anyone ever doubts his supreme goodness, I will cut a bitch.


Another month went by. I started freelancing. Writing. Editing. Things felt better. I was working. And I was doing work that I actually enjoyed. It finally struck me, that perhaps all of this had happened to show me that what I really wanted to do was write. To freelance as much as possible and make the life I wanted for myself. It was a stunning conclusion. But I still needed a job.

Avatar

I was 12 years old when James Cameron's Titanic was unleashed upon the world. I saw the film six times in the theater, never tiring of it. I understand fanaticism. But I like to think I loved Titanic for its story, the unbridled narcissism of the men who made her without enough life-boats, never imagining she would sink. I loved Titanic for Kate Winslet, her bravery, her real-girl body, her free-spirit. Also, I was 12.

Avatar, possibly the most expensive film ever made to date, by guess who?! James Cameron, is not as terrible as I thought it would be. There, I said it. I like big blockbusters. Putting on the 3D glasses and running to the theater to get good seats is an exhilarating experience. By the way, if you're at all interested in seeing this thing, do it now, in the theater with the glasses. It won't be the same on DVD. Mostly, I'm still in love with the idea that it's possible for a director to make an entire theater filled with people sit down, shut up, and pay attention.

The plot is essentially a re-telling of Pocohontas, except instead of Native Americans we've got natives from a planet called Pandora. The Americans are interested in Pandora because it's got this special mineral that we need for energy called "Unobtainium." Funny, James. Some nerdy scientists, including Sigourney Weaver, who should be bad-ass but really isn't (mainly because she has no idea how to hold a cigarette) have decided it would be easier to communicate with the natives if we could look like them, talk like them, essentially be them. Hence the Avatar program is born. A marine by the name of Jake Sully is harvested to take his dead brother's place as an Avatar on Pandora, because he has the same genetic makeup. Jake's paralyzed from the waist down, so entering an alien body where he can run and jump is worth it for him.

Long story short, Jake falls in love with one of the natives, Neytiri, who is a total babe, obviously. The love affair, on top of his newfound legs, pushes Jake to the other side, which really pisses off his military superiors. They get sick and tired of waiting around for the natives to move, so they decide to just blow the whole place up. You know, shock and awe and all that. Yeah, James, we get it.

Avatar has real nice things to say about the environment and how we've lost touch with Mother Earth. I totally agree. Do I think it'll make the dudes excited about its special effects go home and recycle? No. Why? Because, like Cameron, I think they're more concerned with "progress," i.e. the technology to make billion dollar movies like this so we can all forget that we've shat all over the planet and now there's nowhere for our children to live. Sorry, that was bitter and probably unnecessary, but that's how I feel. I like movies with people in them. Think Woody Allen. Yeah, I like all that real and neurotic shit.

That said, I do think it's possible for this technology (which is incredible, I admit, yes I was impressed by the way the creatures faces even read the actor's emotions) combined with good film-making (and that means good writing, James) to really make a fucking incredible, life-changing, world-changing motion picture. Avatar isn't it, but it's a step in the right direction.