The Wackiest Phone Interview Ever

Thursday has always been my favorite day of the week, but last Thursday was an emotional kidney punch. My cherished younger brother Jake was moving into CU on the same day that I had the biggest interview of my life so far. I was torn between shameless weeping and excitedly preparing for a phone call with National Public Radio, which was completely surreal. Craziest of all, CU move-in and my interview were scheduled at the same time. It was a little like every sitcom plot ever where the main character has to chose between supporting her family and chasing her dreams. Luckily for me, this was a phone interview, so I could have my cake and eat it too. I crammed myself into the car, carving out a small niche to tape up my papers and assemble my makeshift office.

Every successful phone interview requires a basil plant shoved between your knees

The interview went okay, although I did muddle my way through one or two responses. When I found out that they were only taking one intern, I resigned myself to be happy I made it to the second stage. I should explain that this is not the first, second, or even third time that I've applied to intern at NPR. Furthermore, I have a big academic crush on the entire institution; I've been avidly listening to NPR ever since I can remember. In high school, I know I wrote at least one speech and one college entrance essay about how important NPR is to me. Dorky, but true. At least talking to someone who actually works at HQ was an accomplishment to me.

So on Friday, I went into work normally. Except I decided to leave my cell phone in the car for once. (Normally I take it in with me and it detracts from my productivity). At about 10:30, I received a frantic string of emails from my mom, telling me to pick up my phone.

It said: "NPR called-- you got the job". My first thought was that this was a cruel joke to encourage me to carry my phone. But even my mom wouldn't get my hopes up like that. I ran out of the office and skipped to the car. I still can't believe it, but I have the official documents to prove it. I'll be working at the Social Media desk this fall and hopefully contributing to "Intern Edition" as well. (Intern edition is this collaborative multimedia project that sounds like the Disney channel original movie Camp Rock but for radio interns.)

I'm so excited, so nervous and ultimately, so relieved I will have valid stuff to blog about in the fall. Wish me luck! :S

--Megan

Internship Phase 2: Nutting up

Day 12 was a new low in my internship; I drove 50 minutes to Boulder to do 15 minutes of work. So there I was, sitting in the parking lot again; dejected, confused and on the phone with my mother. As far as I could tell, I was doing everything right, but no one would give me any tasks to complete. After listening to my frustrated rant, mom gently explained in her delicate "mother-knows-best" tone of voice,

"Sweetie... you kinda just need to nut up." Her words, not mine. It's true though: I was so shy and panicked that I was holding myself back. Yeah, I know, everyone gets nerves. But until you've sat in the Women's restroom for 5 minutes giving yourself a pep talk, trust me, you're not that nervous. I'm pretty sure I walked into the office like I was a drug mule going through customs for at least the first three weeks on the job. What was so terrifying to me? Only everything!



See, part of me is still convinced that I was hired on a complete lark because I really have no job description beyond "intern". So for me, that meant that talking to people in my office was sure to lead to disaster; maybe they would unceremoniously throw me out when they found out I didn't contribute anything. I recently discovered, however, that every person at my office is exceptionally nice.

There is even a woman who looks genuinely sorry when she can't find anything for me to do. And putting my nerves behind me has actually lead to... real work. I can now say I wrote a press release and sound vaguely professional. I am further pleased to report that the other (useful) interns are not 12 years old, like I suspected. They are actually at least 2 years older than me, which helps explain their superior skills.

I'm still mildly terrified of my office, to be honest. But at this point, I have about 2 weeks before it's back to DC and on to the next one. So I am going to do my best to chat up a storm, at least in lieu of actual work.

--Megan

[Update: Also I have become the master of fax/copy/print machines. It's especially satisfying since I know now that other people are incredibly confused by the machine that used to taunt me.]