best hits

i'm in my new room in Mayo-Smith, a bag of Costco dried mangoes and a packet of Double Chocolate Milanos within easy reach on my shelf, my blue furry elephant, Humphrey, lounging on the bed, and a large box of Kleenex on the windowsill. with such essentials already in place--although my clothing may still be in suitcases/strewn across the floor--i guess i'm pretty much settled in. which means summer's officially over; thankfully, there's the somewhat jittery limbo period called Orientation to ease me back into school.

that said, i have to tell a few more stories from my summer, especially as those last couple weeks in New York did not pass without incident.

Priyanka's First Blind Date
i may have already mentioned that Irene, the literary agent i worked for, is a force of nature. well, i walk into work one morning and in response to my "Good morning," Irene exclaims, "Priyanka! Do you ever date Indian men?" i answer with a diplomatic, "i'm from California: i don't have a policy." (i should mention here that Irene is one of those white people who's kind of obssessed with India.) well, it turned out that Irene had someone in mind---a young man, half-white half-indian, working at Harper's. she says she'll call him; i laugh nervously.

here's when her India-enthusiasm starts to conflict with her zest for matchmaking. she's calling up this guy when, all of a sudden, she remembers The Namesake---which, of course, she's read, though i have not. in it, apparently, Ms. Lahiri tells the story of an Indian-American youth whose parents are always trying to set him up with a nice Indian girl, and he hates it (see the forthcoming movie for details). recalling the novel, Irene is filled with remorse---is she pressuring us into an awkward situation? she covers her tracks, telling Rafil (for that's his name) that she has a lovely young intern who wants to learn more about the magazine world: would he meet with her sometime and tell her about Harper's?

i end up at a bar in the East Village for an after-work drink with this very nice guy, who went to Princeton and has lots to say about Harper's, the literary world in general, and how i might go about finding a job next year. all in all, it was a pretty interesting and pleasant encounter, although Irene was disappointed that sparks did not fly. (they didn't, in case you were wondering. my mother says my standards are too high.)


Priyanka's Fat Lip and Fat Eye
my last day of work went out with a bang: i'm struggling to grab the LMP (Literary Marketplace---it's the phone book for all things literary) from the very top of the bookshelf, when all three volumes come crashing down right onto my face. i tear up in shock, and although the pain subsides quickly, it leaves me with a very tender and swollen lower lip: Sabrina, Irene's assistant, assured me that it really just gave me a sexy pout, which i was happy to believe all day long. about a week later in California, my mother insists i get a facial from her favorite Russian beautician, Zena. i don't know what happened exactly, but one of Zena's products must have gotten in my eye--my lower left lid swelled up and hurt whenever i closed that eye for a couple days. it's better now.


Priyanka's Brush with Fame
remember 98 Degrees? yeah you do, don't lie. (actually most of my friends did not lie when i told them this story; instead they revealed an embarrassing amount of knowledge about the members of this, and other, boy bands from the 90s. way to go, guys.)
well, 98 Degrees had a lesser-known member named Justin Jeffre (lesser known in that he did not go on to wed Jessica Simpson or have a self-imposed but hilarious reality tv show destroy his marriage). and during my last week in the city, Justin became the latest New Press intern, despite the fact that he's well into this thirties.

see, Justin's from Cincinnati and in 2005 he ran for mayor there. (he lost the race, but he came in before that one ex-convict, so that's good.) despite the disappointment, he's retained his interest in Ohio politics and in independent media. it just so happens that 1) The New Press is doing a book called What Happened in Ohio? about the 2004 presidential elections and is also involved in a law suit to save those ballots from being destroyed in September; and 2) our publicity director, Ina, has all sorts of celebrity connections (she's friends with Moby, for instance). so Justin got in touch with her, wanted to help out with the book and the campaign, and decided to join The New Press as a sort of publicity intern, working for Ina.

before he arrived, i'll admit the staff was worried. how would we restrain ourselves from breaking into dance routines in the hallway? did we need to dress extra-cute for his first day? should the editorial assistant confess that she had seen him in concert when she was 16? and would Justin know how to use a photocopy machine?
i have to say, though, that he turned out to be a very nice and normal guy. i can say this with authority, since he sat next to me during the intern seminar (OMG!). we also had a few intimate moments in the stockroom, where we were both raiding the shelves for books to steal on our way out. it looks like he's going to stay with The New Press for several weeks and actually work on this book. and so i can finally say i met a celebrity in New York, and no, you can't counter that he's a has-been and doesn't count anymore. i have Justin's word for it that the band's been back in the studio recently. that's right, everyone: get ready for a comeback.