as i'm sitting here preparing my business homework on microsoft's xbox so i can go to a "scotch drinking" club meeting tonight, a fleeting moment of "this shit is actually fun" has swept over me.

no doubt this brief contentment will dissipate when i realize that the strategy i've developed for xbox is completely wrong. and when i admit that i don't actually like scotch.

when my sister called me this morning to vent about life frustrations, i listened and immediately began recommending action steps. "debb daniela, i don't want you to solve my problems, i just need you to listen."

oh.

over the last seven months, i've been coached to diagnose a situation quickly. taught to recommend a concrete action plan. and trained to have an attention span of exactly 80 minutes.

i've also been thrown from my high horse, trampled on by stallions, and deprived of a libido in exchange for a decent night's sleep. i've also learned to become seriously annoyed when i'm required to pay attention for any longer than 82 minutes.

as my fabulous four-day weekend draws to a close, i realize i haven't left my apartment in two days, haven't applied make-up in three, and haven't worn anything besides sweatpants in four. there is something incredibly rejuvenating about alternating between movies, law & order reruns, cooking, showering, and sleeping.

in my self-imposed solitude, i've been thinking lately a lot about my transformation from committed professional to flippant student. i've also been deeply worried about who dannielynn's real father is and britney's serious need for rehab. these, my friends, are the true concerns of the twenty-something generation. the latter obviously far more important than the former.

in considering how i have changed over the last year, i fear for moments of stark realizations when i head to washington, dc this coming weekend for a career trek (read: excuse to see friends, network with former colleagues, and drink margaritas at lauriol plaza). when i left there last july, i was a self-confident twenty-four year old in a serious relationship and headed to some prestigious graduate program at an unheard of university in boston. my biggest concern at the time was what i was going to eat on my upcoming trip to europe.

when i land at reagan national airport on saturday, i'll be a self-conscious twenty-five year old, still carrying the weight of eating spaghetti bolognese for the eleven nights i was in italy -- whose biggest concern is the next time i'm going to get some action.

so what i think i'm most looking forward to is interacting with people who knew me at a time in my life when i was grounded and sensible. no pressure to be impressive. no pressure to perform. and absolutely no pressure to be anything more than just a walking sexual innuendo.

and so the only solace i can find in having to go back to class tomorrow is eagerly anticipating returning to the politically-inclined atmosphere and fast-moving pace that was such an integral part of my former life.

well, that and i've seen almost every movie that is currently on HBO's february rotation and watched the food network's chocolate runway competition four times. in fact, i am banking on xbox's strategy involving drew barrymore and cocoa powder.

five interviews later, i'm actually farther behind in a summer internship search than i was just a few weeks ago. and by further behind, i mean that a half dozen companies that were once possibilities, now definitely don't want to hire me.

my experience thus far is best described by mark twain when he said: "it is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt."

the problem with being with being one big clusterfuck of sarcasm and sex is that during interviews, the responses that instinctively come to mind are far more clever and creative than the ones i actually give.

unfortunately, they are also far more inappropriate. so i'm left with phrases like: "leadership," "team player," and "unique balance between consensus-builder and decision-maker."

i have been reflecting on my failed conversations in an effort to identify opportunities for improvement. but as far as i'm concerned, here's how i imagine the interviews should have gone (by the way, these are all real questions i've been asked.):

interviewer: can you discuss an advertising campaign that you think is ineffective?
me: the geico-cavemen ones.
interviewer: oh really?
me: yeah totally. someone should tell them that cavemen don't exist anymore.

interviewer: can you tell me about a brand that resonates with you?
me: the *las vegas* brand
interviewer: that is an interesting answer! can you talk a little bit more about that?
me: nope, sorry. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas.

interviewer: what makes you unique at harvard business school?
me: great question. in a school full of bright, intelligent, and articulate individuals with amazing experiences, i stand out for being the complete opposite of everyone else.

interviewer: what do you think your friends and coworkers would say is your greatest strength?
me: oral sex. hands down.

interviewer: well what do you think your greatest weakness is?
me: i have no idea what you're talking about. my mom tells me that i'm perfect.

interviewer: what gets you out of bed in the morning?
me: my second alarm clock.

interviewer: where do you see yourself in five years?
me: i hope to be an entrepreneur with my own business ... selling cocaine on georgia avenue to pay back my horri-awful loans. you interested in an eighth?

interviewer: your resume indicates that you worked for nonprofits. what makes you think you can transition to the corporate sector?
me: i don't. i'm just hoping you'll be distracted by my cleavage and offer me a job.

interviewer: if you had a million dollars to invent anything that would change the world, what would it be?
me: fuck, if i knew that, do you think i'd be interviewing to be a brand manager for laundry detergent?

... but instead of those conversations, i managed to be completely uninspiring and unmemorable. which is an effective strategy on reality tv, but doesn't actually work in reality.

SPIWAK: everyone present?
ME: oh, oh! I have a joke!
ME: what do you get when you have three wash u grads -- one law student, one business student, and one journalist -- in a chat room at 9:30 on a Saturday night?
ME: ...
ME: US! this is pathetic.
GABE: this is hot
ME: whats hot?
SPIWAK: you
ME: is paris hilton here?
SPIWAK: shes not hot. shes vile
GABE: no. but chris hansen is coming soon
SPIWAK: whos chris hansen?
SPIWAK: someone from college that only you knew?
GABE: the dateline to catch a predator guy
SPIWAK: ha. so whats new?
ME: what is everyone wearing?
ME: i'm wearing nothing and touching myself.
SPIWAK: sweater, jeans, shoes
GABE: i'm wearing an IM champion shirt
ME: oh sorry. wrong chat screen
SPIWAK: everyone still employed and/or a student?
GABE: i'm still employed just barely
SPIWAK: same just barely as last month just barely?
ME: i'm still a struggling student
ME: (on academic "alert")
SPIWAK: what does that mean?
GABE: she has a 3.7 GPA
SPIWAK: 3.85
GABE: she's slipped to 3.7
SPIWAK: haha
ME: shut up!
ME: no really
SPIWAK: hey, that barely cuts it in Boston
ME: i'm in the bottom of my class.
SPIWAK: bottom of class at Harvard...
GABE: doesn't everyone get an A for just showing up?
GABE: that's what i was told
SPIWAK: exactly
SPIWAK: and who could believe bottom of class
GABE: since she likes being on top
GABE: (that was too easy)
SPIWAK: i heard she likes it from behind too
GABE: we know it's hard at harvard and we are jealous of your superior credentials
ME: you guys aren't being supportive!
SPIWAK: you want support, go to victoria's secret
GABE: we are supportive
ME: i got rejected from a job at VS this week
SPIWAK: did you really apply?
ME: yes. i did really apply
ME: and really got rejected
SPIWAK: i'm sorry
GABE: they took one look at you and said, she doesn't even need a push up bra!
SPIWAK: you applied for retail?
GABE: she applied to run the company, beeeeeatch
GABE: and she will
GABE: i thought you were applying to work at saks
GABE: no, not saks, where was it?
GABE: tiffany's!
SPIWAK: no no, shes waiting for a ring from there, she doesnt want to work there
ME: i plan to be rejected from tiffany this month too
SPIWAK: nice! way to set goals!!
ME: i don't want a ring
ME: everyone else is getting married
SPIWAK: except for the 3 lame ones sitting in a chat room on sat night
ME: i'm just single
ME: and will be forever
SPIWAK: oh stop your whining
GABE: maybe you and spiwak should make a deal
GABE: like in that movie
GABE: if you're both single at 30
GABE: then you get hitched
GABE: i think the movie was called "every movie ever made"
SPIWAK: oh oh, i thought you were talking about robert redford and demi moore
ME: maybe YOU and spi should make that deal
SPIWAK: i'll take that deal
GABE: but i get to be robert redford
ME: spi says he wants to be ernis
ME: "i cant' quit you"
SPIWAK: something like that
GABE: you know kenny is moving to nashville?
SPIWAK: is he really?
SPIWAK: thats great
GABE: yeah to oversee a yogurt factory or something
GABE: i told him not to move but he didn't listen
ME: i had dinner with him last night. i'm sad he's leaving
ME: he's the only dose of reality i have in camb-hell-ridge
SPIWAK: there's gotta be a better way of saying that
SPIWAK: sounds too disjunctive
SPIWAK: how about "hell"?
GABE: anyway. Running out to see someone I met once in London.

(this is where we all said our sentimental goodbyes.)

"you know the good ole days weren't always good..."

what do you get when you put together 900 over-qualified, over-achieving, high-strung, high-performing harvard business school students competing for the same 12 summer jobs?

technically: hell week.

but i prefer to call it: fuck-you-week.

imagine throwing one 10-ounce steak into a shark tank just to, oh i don't know, see what happens.

the thing about going back to graduate school is that as soon as you're out of the professional lion's den, there is this insane competition to get back in. and for those of us who are using graduate school -- multiple ones, mind you -- to escape that (un)reality, the pressure is consuming but the motivation is ... on sabbatical.

and honestly, i didn't like fighting the lion beforehand (which was more like a cute little nonprofit lion kitty cat), and i don't imagine liking it any better now. particularly because i'm in the ring with 899 highly-trained lion-tamers with masters degrees in petting large animals. and despite my best efforts, lions do not seem to respond to cleavage or offers for oral sex.

this week is harvard business school hell week. and by hell week, they mean no classes, an occasional interview, and being courted with lavish meals by some of the highest paying companies in america. (well, everyone else is being courted. i'm just home in my kitchen baking every type of dessert i've ever learned to make.)

clearly, the hell week misnomer indicates that they've never been in the fiery pit. because if they had, they'd know that there are no manicures in hell.

i have become well-versed in post-interview rejection: it's not to be taken personally (which is exactly how i take it) and it is not meant to induce self-deprecation (i have't left my apartment in three days and have never hated myself more). rather, not being offered a second-round interview is a polite way of saying "you were much better on paper." and although it's not supposed to be a personality contest, what it boils down to is that it is. and apparently, my personality sucks.

but i think a lot of the personalities around here suck too. unfortunately, i'm not interviewing them for jobs.

for those of us under-qualified for any of these awe-inspiring jobs, we have no other choice but to acknowledge the fact that our jobs will fall into place lie. because salary, benefits, and actual responsibilities are secondary to the privilege of bragging that one "has five job offers."

and so, when i return to classes next week, i look forward to telling my peers about the handful of offers i have lined up:

1. financial management at a large food distributor (read: cashier at wendys).
2. advertising for a home retailer (read: holding the sign at the street corner for a furniture going out of business sale).
3. officer of post-consumer products in the restaurant industry (read: after-dinner table crumb-scraper at a restaurant).
4. fundraiser for a small nonprofit (read: begging at the corner of memorial drive and river street).
5. personal shopper (read: ... for myself. on fafsa loans.).

and if position title and number of employment offers is really the only thing i'll be asked about, then i'm completely content doing what i do best: smiling, nodding, and fucking pretending to fit in.