I ate lunch at the Conde Nast building with a big time New Yorker editor.

Today at 2 p.m. after wandering around Times Square feeling like little lost Annie trying to find her way to warm Granny's house, I met my Magazine Writing class instructor, John Bennet, non-fiction editor of my favorite magazine in his office for a look around and a cup of soup in the shiny fancy cafeteria of the epicenter of all New York's finest publications. I wandered through the halls of the New Yorker's offices trying to feel something, anything, but I was just kind of in shock and awe mode.

Then he took me down to the 4th floor to get some food and have a chat. I was very nervous. He asked me all kinds of questions and I am afraid that I sounded like a fool. I told him I want to work for the New Yorker, and that was ok. He asked me what kind of music I listen to and what writers I like. Of course I froze up. he was incredibly discouraging about getting any sort of job in the magazine world. His suggestion: "Marry someone rich." The second: "Write a book. Freelance magaizne writing sucks." Later he assured me that with my resume I'd definitely get a job. He wasn't very clear about where or what kind of job... but I'm trying to just have faith.