Around the Horn

I picked up my parents at the Ithaca airport Saturday morning.  My brother Robert and I walked to Schoellkopf to attend Convocation, where David Plouffe, senior campaign manager for Barack Obama, commended the graduating class for shaping the election and promoting change for the future.  Plouffe also gave a shoutout to my friend CJ, who served as Convocation Chair, and his recent unsuccessful foray with Introduction to Wines.  In other words, he didn’t pass (sorry, CJ).  The Lins then set off on a full day of receptions and get togethers.  The weather was sunny and humid.  “I didn’t expect Ithaca to be this warm,” my mom remarked, as she trailed 25 feet behind Robert and I.  Apparently her solution to the heat is walking at a snail-slow pace while holding her handbag over her face to block the sun: an interesting sight.

Rise and shine!  Drowsy from the red-eye flight…

…cleaned up at the Johnson Museum

Sunday was a whirlwind of caps, gowns, diplomas, flowers, and balloons.  All the graduates assembled on the Arts Quad before the procession started around 10AM.  With overcast skies, I was glad that it was cooler, since sitting in a black robe that doubles as a compact sauna is not an ideal situation for anyone.  During the procession, my heart dropped when we walked through the Day Hall parking lot.  There, professors flanked both sides in their Harry Potter-esque cap and gown regalia, clapping and congratulating us on this special occasion.  It really put our achievement–graduation from a university–on a much more meaningful scale.  It was a bittersweet sendoff as we progressed to the stadium.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Schoellkopf packed (it apparently has a capacity of 40,000), but it was teeming with family and friends Sunday morning:

Meanwhile, on the other side, Robert reported that the scene at Schoellkopf resembled the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games.  “And now…the College of Arts and Sciences!”

President David Skorton addressed the graduates, asking us to take charge and embrace change.  With our liberal arts foundation and Cornell support, we have the skills and moral character that’ll ensure success in the future.  Then, one by one, the degrees were conferred.  Most notable in show were the Vet grads, who cleverly blew up arm-long plastic gloves to double as those thunder sticks you get at basketball games.  When Skorton mentioned “swine flu,” the flurry of blow-up arms drew a huge laugh.  We sang the Alma Mater as an entire class (I teared up a little bit), and before I knew it, it was over.

It still hasn’t hit me yet.  In a few months, I’ll be moving into an apartment in Manhattan and working in finance, a response which drew a lot of “get us out of this mess” and “finance…oh, I see” comments this past week.  I will be returning to JPMorgan this August, working in their Sales and Trading division, undoubtedly entering a field that thrives on high stress and quick thinking.  This show-no-mercy masochistic environment gets me going, and while I may be hitting the floor early in the morning, working hard every second until evening, I know it’ll be a fun ride.

I have many people to thank in this last (and rather long) blog entry.  First, to my family.  It was my dad who pushed for me to apply to Cornell in the first place.  Although we are separated for most of the year, the support my parents have given me over my 22 years, their respect for the “college experience” and their personal American Dreams have shaped me into the optimistic and direct Cornellian I am today.  To Robert, for becoming a new close friend instead of the pesky brother that makes fun of me…oh, wait…

Next, to friends old and new.  Special shoutout to my 219 Linden roommates (Katy, Hannah, Cath, Court, Michelle, Jill, Kara), some SHpecial friends, my KDs, fellow tour guides, and while it looks like I’m pulling names from a baby book, in no specific order: Jen, Danny, Frankel, Dave, Paz, Schneida, Steve, Scott M., Alex, Ryan, Bryant, Ray, Krebs, James, Jess, Sarah, and I’m missing about 50 other names–please forgive me, and the really nice coffee lady at CTB who always gets my medium hazelnut coffee…apparently her name is Paula.  To friends that I met from the first week of freshman year, and others I met this past year, with so little time left.  Regardless of duration, the bonds are rock solid and long term.  I’m talking about us ladies sitting in rockers knitting together when we’re grandmothers.  Not to ride on any stereotypes, but the guys, well, I don’t foresee us knitting, but perhaps playing golf or something else.  You all have changed my perspective on life and taught me to see things differently.  I’ll cherish our fun nights out, the relaxed nights in, the impromptu discussions, and heart-to-hearts.   While I’ll be able to see a lot of you next year in NYC, to everyone else spreading out in the states (or even going overseas), we are the generation of GChat, email, Facebook, and Skype, and by George, I hope we stay in touch.

Thanks to my elder mentors.  To my professors, who have instilled the importance of learning and curiosity. To Lisa, who got me this blogging job and put up with my antics: you probably think I’m crazy.  To Hilary, my rowing coach for 3 years: thank you for taking a doe-eyed freshman under your wing and giving me knowledge, faith, and the challenge of the sport of rowing, which I look on as one of my most memorable experiences.  To Taiya and Peggy, my tour guiding supervisors, I will definitely miss the hubbub in Day Hall.  Even to my finance gurus at my upcoming job (Rita, DBD, and others, all Cornell grads!), I appreciate your mentoring and look forward to August.

To my readers (Matt, Drew, this is for you):  Thank you for your continued support and comments.  While I was sure that the banality of my routine college lifestyle would be as boring as watching summer TV reruns, I’m glad there was something in my blog that willed the faithful few to keep up with my life.  Maybe it was the pictures…

And finally, thank you, Cornell, for the most amazing 4 years of my life.  Leisurely, I will miss Stella’s half-off burgers, late night pizza from Sindbad’s, Cornell Dairy ice cream, pitchers at CTB, fun nights at Rulloffs and the Palms, Olin Cafe, runs through the Plantations, Cayuga Inlet, the chimes, muffins and soup from Temple of Zeus, the driving range, and of course, Wegmans.  Let’s not forget the prelims, problem sets, papers, the bitter wind, and the hills.  You have challenged me, excited me, and given me hope and opportunity.  I leave the Hill with a sweet taste in my mouth and an enthusiastic smile.  I’ll be back, but for now, I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.

“Dear Seniors,

On behalf of the 2009 Convocation Committee, I am pleased to announce that Mr. David Plouffe, Chief Campaign Manager of Obama for America, President Barack Obama’s historic presidential campaign, will headline the Class of 2009’s Convocation Ceremony on Saturday, May 23, 2009. ”

Unexpected, but I’m looking forward to it.  While Mr. Plouffe may not be the most recognizable name, I think he’ll deliver a pertinent and inspiring message.  Talking with my roommate Katy, both of us hoped that the speech wouldn’t sugarcoat the real world too much.  We all realize the current economic crisis that the US is facing; all of us have worried about the immediate 2-year outlook of our post-college lives at some point in these past few months.  I think we need to stay hopeful but realistic.  It would just be an awkward situation if the message delivered was too rah-rah, while the grim reality is one of unemployment and stagnancy.

However, if going out into the real world isn’t scaring anyone, it’s probably this ending statement in the e-mail:

“I wish you the best for our final three months as Cornell undergraduates and hope you and your family will join us on May 23. ”

Three more months in Ithaca with my friends.  Yikes!

I’ve noticed a subconscious cut in the number of coffee runs.  It seems silly, but spending $4 on a beveridge has never really appealed to me, lest it be Jamba Juice.  However, my indirect caffeine cut seems logical in a recession, but only perpetuates a vicious cycle.  Consumers are spending less, and retail shops and larger business are receiving less revenue.  With less money to go around, saving money Big Man style can mean budget cuts, layoffs, or restructuring.  Either way, if more people are jobless, there’s even less free cash floating around.  So that’s why Starbucks is closing another 300 store…my bad if the one in Collegetown is the next to go.

In a topic hitting closer to home, President David Skorton recently announced budget cuts for the university in light of hard economic times.  This is definitely trickling down to the Cornell community, as each department is expected to cut their spending budgets by ~10%; he is also taking a 10% cut in his salary.  At the same time, Skorton proposed that funding for financial aid continue for students, and I fully support him.  While students are “safe” from the job market, in the sense that their sole job is to learn and stay in school, their parents may not be so lucky.  Layoffs are rampant and it is difficult for parents to go back to school without making drastic changes in their family’s financial structure.  Cornell has been flexible and generous with financial aid in my case, making it possible for my parents to send me here.  Cornell is continuing its longstanding effort to assist students, and this is the University’s way of rolling over some rough patches, preparing students to brave through this recession.

In my last week as a full-time college student, I’ve wandered around Memory Lane a little too long.  Blame it on the holiday season, where everyone turns into a lovey-dovey nostalgic sap.  I spent all of Black Friday sprawled on a couch watching “Family Man” and “Sleepless in Seattle”; what did you do?

All kidding aside, it hit me oh-so-slightly this past week that I am no longer sheltered from the cold blasts of the real world.  On the bright side, I won’t have to write any more papers or stress out about prelims and exams.  On the darker side…it’s just me now.  As a fully-autonomous adult, I won’t really have an excuse to party late into Thursday night and get away with having $45.07 in my checking account.

Most of all, I won’t stop hearing the dreaded “so how’s your love life?” question.  Yes, even after 21 years, I have yet to claim that I’ve been in a solid relationship.  After evaluating my lifetime drought, I can attribute my chronic singledom to the educational environment.  No, I’m not talking about my parents, as they were the most lax parents in high school (”Just try your best, honey” was all the encouragement I needed).  It’s the pressure to fend for yourself, to work towards a successful career.  In college, I really had no desire to settle down with anyone.  I’m an independent woman blazing my own trail; if you don’t like it, move on, because I won’t wait or change…I think this go-get-em’-ness has scared guys away.  I’m blunt, but I don’t fawn over guys.  I’ll be successful in my own right, and I don’t want to be anyone’s sugarmama.  However, I’m realizing more and more that companionship is important.  While I can support myself just fine, dinner is never fun when you’re eating alone.

Me: “I’m just having fears of a single me at 45 living on the Upper West Side with 20 cats that I’m allergic to.  That’s got to be the worst case scenario…right?”
My gay husband: “Yea but Upper West Side…I wouldn’t mind that.”
Me: “Shut up, you’re not helping.”

After reading the news on Friday about Lehman Brothers’ call for help, I spent most of the weekend refreshing the New York Times, Bloomberg, MarketWatch, and all the other business-related webpages.  It’s surreal being bubbled off in Ithaca, not realizing the global impact that Lehman’s bankruptcy and Merrill Lynch’s merger with Bank of America will incur over the next few weeks.  I decided to hit the hay around midnight, thinking that nothing new would develop in the wee hours.

Just as I’m about to doze off, I hear a faint high-pitched tone.  I brush it off, grouchy that I have to re-fall into my dozing state.  Five seconds later, my housemate Courtney runs in.  “Jen, get up, the fire alarm’s going off.”  The house is pitch black.  I shuffle around my desk for my glasses and look at my phone.  1:28 am.  Wonderful.  After putting on a shirt (yes, it was that hot in my room), I drowsily head downstairs to the porch, where my other housemates nervously waited.

Linden Avenue looked like Kansas just before Dorothy and Toto were swept into Oz.  Leaves and trash were everywhere. The wind gusts had cut the power, and our house was not the only one with blaring fire alarms.  Little by little,  other Linden-ites crept out of their bedrooms.  The thrifty ones ran straight to Collegetown Pizza and CTB, since no power meant free food.   Our house called the police, and within 5 minutes, a firetruck was barging down the street to silence fire alarms.  We were back in bed by 2 am.

Everything seemed back to normal this morning until I read about speculation of the next Black Monday due to the Lehman and Merrill dealings.  The Collegetown blackout seems so petty when compared to the latest developments in the financial crisis, and that was the biggest wake up call of all.

Everyone who is majoring in a business/economics-related field is participating in the rat race to score a summer internship at an investment bank in New York City. Cornell’s Career Services Center is in charge of on-campus recruiting, organizing resume drops and interview schedules for investment banks. My goal was to get one offer for the summer, so I dropped my resume and crossed my fingers. Hey, as Wayne Gretsky once said, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right?

The interview and hiring process is cutthroat. Just at Cornell, 300 resumes can be submitted, a firm may only interview around 25 students, and then extend offers to 4 students. Multiply 300 by the number of schools recruiters visit…and that’s a lot of competition for these jobs. I decide to focus my efforts on getting an internship in Sales and Trading; I end up getting a couple of interviews. However, the hardest part now is landing the job. Everyone is qualified, so first impressions are everything, since you have 30 minutes to convince the interviewers that you deserve the job. This means being super prepared, understanding yourself as a person, the firm, and the world of finance.

The night before one of my interviews, I had talked to one rep (let’s call him Guy) at a pre-interview event. Networking and increasing face time with the interviewers helps, and can sometimes tip the scale between yes/no for a candidate. I’m a true believer in fate and luck (I usually don’t have any), because the next day at Barnes Hall (Career Center), who do I see at the doorway? Guy, who turns out to be my interviewer! The other interviewer is another Cornell grad who’s an energy trader (Guy’s in sales). We shuffle into the 10-square-foot interview room, I sit down in my seat. “Here’s my card,” the trader says, “…and here’s mine,” Guy follows. My palms start sweating. Here we go.

The interview is very technical, walked right into that one, being an econ major. However, something about this interview just clicked. I’m comfortable, answering questions, in control. The best part is the “brainteaser”. If a clock shows 3:15 as the time, what is the angle between the hour and minute hand? I nail it (7.5 degrees), but the answer doesn’t really matter: interviewers just want to see your thought process and quick quantitative skillz…and that’s that. The interviewers say they’ll keep in touch and let me know ASAP. I run home–have to catch my flight–and email thank you letters.

While stuck in LaGuardia airport on my way to Memphis, an unknown number calls my phone. Crap. I pick it up, and it’s none other than Guy:
“How’s it going?”
“Uh…ehh…uh…good. I’m at La Guardia right now, stuck between flights.” (real smooth.)
“Well hopefully you get out okay. I wanted to call you on behalf of Firm X and extend an offer…” (I don’t remember the rest of what he says because I literally PIDDLE MY PANTS in those 3 seconds. I was expecting that if I got a good call, it would be a pass to Round 2 of interviews.)

I GOT A JOB OFFER. BLOOD IS TINGLING. HOLY MACKERAL AND TUNA AND BASS. Guy, clearly noticing that I am speechless, tries to guide me, letting me know that I can either accept the offer on the spot or give a decision later. “…um….Thank you…wow…um…” Yep. I’m at a complete loss for words. And now Guy is rethinking if the offer was valid or not (you speak-ah English?). I tell him that I have another interview on Monday so I couldn’t give him an answer on the spot, but I would let him know ASAP when I made my decision. Hang up, immediately call Mommy Lin, who screams around the house (exaggeration) and hangs up to immediately to call Daddy Lin. I call my housemates, call my friends. I feel like Charlie Bucket, alone with the golden ticket. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but that would have most likely been met with dubious stares and security officers. All the time spent perfecting the cover letter, the resume, interviewing, was worth it.

See you in NYC this summer!

New Year’s at home is never complete without a morning trip to Colorado Boulevard to watch the Rose Parade, an afternoon of watching the Rose Bowl Game (USC killed Illinois), and a few New Year’s resolutions. Of course, there is always the disclaimer that many of these resolutions will fizzle out by mid-February.

1. Burn off some blubber. While Operation Tighten is ongoing throughout the school year, there are just too many temptations/craving at home. I guess this would rule out See’s candies, gobs of peanut butter, donuts, In-N-Out, among others. So, Operation Tighten shall resume January 4, when I leave SoCal for Low-Cal training. The biggest enemy for Operation Tighten is my lazy-college-student diet, also known as Taste of Thai, Sindbad’s, and Maxie’s.

2. Try to stay in touch with friends who are abroad. Some of my closest friends are going across the pond for a semester, and both parties will definitely be wrapped up in their own everyday doings. The best tool for staying in touch will be Skype, or any other online chatting program (gchat is AMAZING).

3. Boycott boys. Though playing the “game” is fun, missing ANTM marathons for guys just ain’t worth it. And, my wandering eye has earned me a boy-crazy reputation among my roommates: good or bad? Either way, less boys=less talk about boys=not boy crazy. It’ll be interesting to see how this resolution pans out because I tend to meet these boys in class. And, who rejects an offer to work on a problem set together?

4. Get a job.
5. Stay as zen as possible. Lots of things lined up for the semester: rowing lineups, sorority duties, classes, job interviews, Ithacation. Essentially, a recipe for personal implosion. Hopefully some of the yoga moves I picked up this break can promote an easy-going lifestyle among the madness.

6. Finish Monday crosswords in under 10 minutes (it’s been done before) and complete more than one Friday New York Times Crossword. Wil Shortz, you’re on.

While getting ready for class last week, I passed by Sarah’s room to find her in full power suit and heels mode, getting ready for an on-campus interview. Big-time companies always come this time of year to kick off their full-time recruitment process, and scores of seniors have been steaming their nicest suits, polishing their power heels/shoes, and printing out resumes (on resume paper, please) by the ream.

Cornell does a great job coordinating career fairs (went to that, check), inviting companies to woo students during their presentations, and providing workshops for students wishing to perfect their interviewing/resume skills (”No, nunchuck skills should NOT be listed under Additional Skills…”). However, my dilemma is not “navy suit or black suit”, but finding time to go to these puppies. Most of these companies present at the Statler from 4:30ish to around 8:00ish, which is when I’m on the lake for practice.

Two weeks ago, one of those big companies decided to reach out to the student-athlete contingent and kick-off their summer intern recruiting process with a breakfast. The invitation was sent out to student-athletes with any potential interest in finance/business,”a casual meet and greet with some representatives of the company”. Working hard 6 times a week does have its advantages, I must say.

The breakfast provided me with a lot of schmoozing insight. While casual attire for the average college student would be a t-shirt and jeans, the event was clearly not casual, with both guys and girls busting out business casual slacks and shirts. Thank goodness I opted for pressed khakis and an oxford shirt. As I now know, “representatives of the company” could range from a new analyst or the “Cornell Ambassador” of said company, aka the one who can decide your corporate life in a second. It’s a big surprise to find out, especially while you’re in mid-sip of a glass of orange juice. Yep, that didn’t stay too well up my nose…

After the presentation, I had a whirlwind schedule of classes and was hitting myself in the head for not bringing an extra change of clothes. Who likes peeling off khakis? Finally, heels are your frenemies, like Paris and Lindsay. While walking down Dryden, you look hot, your legs are looking good, that guy from econ is checking you out. And then you’ll face plant.

Finals came and went: Econ was a DOOZIE, that pretty much sums up the most eventful part of Finals.

Sprints came and went: Got some silver hardware, the race was one of the best (and closest) I have ever coxed.

Boys came and went too: See following entry.

I’m back home in California. Still jobless, still internshipless. I’ve been searching since March; now a good two months and 15 phone interviews later, I am still looking for a bite. I’m not sure if it is because I sound intimidating on the phone, or if I’m just not qualified, but it is rather discouraging to not receive an offer from the other end. I’m trying not to take the rejections (or lack of correspondence) personally, but if I could just get some feedback, that would give me a better sense of closure.

I ran into my town’s Board of Education President on Saturday, who invited me to a special event in honor of his friend. I thought, why not? The event was at the Regency Club in Westwood, I could have the opportunity to network with people and get out of the house. I showed up for the event with my friend Carolyn. When we were led to the 17th floor and saw all the suits and well-dressed people schmoozing, we knew this wasn’t your average meet and greet hour. So this friend turned out to be Bill Richardson, who yesterday announced his intention to run for the Presidency. The cocktail hour was held to honor his faithful Los Angeles supporters, many of whom are very well-known in the entertainment industry (I was too chicken to approach Jodie Foster). Talk about friends in high places. And while I don’t have any immediate desire to enter politics, I found it a good opportunity to, well, meet the Governor of New Mexico, and others.

Well, I guess it’s my time to say adieu for a few months. Thanks to everyone who made this project possible (hck1, I know you’re reading this), who supported the 6 bloggers (Mr. Bruce, among others), and who responded to the bloggers. We’ll be refreshed and back in action in August.

I’ve heard some buzz about LSATs this past weekend, not sure if test scores came out or if testing occured recently, but that brought me here.

My brother is currently a senior in high school and has been shoved into the world of college applications. Senior year, the year where you will receive more mail than your parents thanks to viewbooks, applications, postcards, anything stationary-like sent from (insert) College/University. To add, my hometown has a hyperobsession with the college application process; too many overachievers in a small school. Granted, I would probably plead guilty in aspiring to be the “standout” of the class, but I attribute that to just plain natural instinct. Survival of the fittest (what I’m learning right now in evolutionary bio…). Nevertheless, although I essentially forced myself to adapt to this dog-eat-dog high school world, this type of environment doesn’t help a laid-back student who is trying to find his/her own identity, or any student for that matter. The college application process has just turned into a 3-ring circus show, where you are the clown juggling five seals while playing the harmonica, swinging via trapeze, and trying to get the attention of the audience. Overhyped like “Snakes on a Plane” and just not healthy. Lest we forget, we shouldn’t try to take any acceptance/rejection personally, but in the end, rejection sucks; no one wants to feel incompetent. I try not to remember this chunk of my high school career as it was rather stressful trying to perfect applications, get your blessed teacher recommendations, vie for the position of captain, president, whatever. I thought I was home free with standardized testing, but it just hit me that the worst has yet to come.

Medical School/Graduate School. Great. It will be application horror redux within the next two years and I am horrified. I’m scared that this time around, schools aren’t going to go out of their way to recruit students (…you mean, you don’t want me?). I’m scared that there is such a tiny margin of error between getting in and finding another option aka 9-5. I hear so many stories about how competitive Medical/Graduate Schools are, and it aches me when I look at my GPA, seeing that it is well below the mean GPAs accepted by universities. Don’t even get me started on the exams. The fact that the MCATs are now computer-based is rather daunting. Sometimes I feel like I have no dying chance and it’s frustrating! I don’t want any pity and I don’t want to pull the athlete card either; I am just having a mid-college-life crisis moment right now, and looks like this’ll be going on for awhile…