How odd it is to be a high-powered Ivy league student, looking back on past PR, journalism, and political jobs, and to find oneselves thoroughly intimidated, in the midst of internship applications to the likes of the mayor's office, by a concurrent attempt to find a restaurant job. It doesn't matter if you have a sterling GPA and saved children in Guatemala when you are looking to be a waiter--it entirely depends on whether you walk into the right restaurant, the one that is just happening to be in need of an inexperienced 21 year-old to serve customers. My main choice, the Alameda Brewhouse, just shot me down because they already have too many people lined up for work. Now I have to start making rounds of the neighborhood. Bugger.