And the job search continues. I've had informational interviews with a BusinessWeek reporter, a New York Times clerk, and a freelance writer. I'm hoping to talk to Doug Blackmon (Hendrix alumnus, Pulitzer Prize winner) soon. For a school with a relatively small alumni base, Hendrix has given me a surprising -- sometimes overwhelming -- number of networking opportunities.

 

I also met yesterday with Christy Coker, the Director of Career Services, who is a repository of utter genius. I left her office with seven Post-It notes full of ideas to follow up on. She gave me tips for staying in touch with my new network, information on web hosting for a personal website, and resources for additional internship opportunities. She also expressed total dedication to working with me as intensively as I wanted, since she knows I'm aiming high. Right now she's combing through my Facebook, telling me whether there's anything inappropriate I'll need to take down. She's also going to tear apart all of the cover letters I write. It's great to have such a great companions on this great odyssey toward employment.

 

There is one recommendation I'm a little ambivalent about: changing my professional name. I always imagined that, as Trista Greider recommended, I'd go by "Kathleen N. Rice" when I graduated. It's the name I'd print on the covers of my books, and the byline that would run above my articles. But I never realized that I'd have to actually go by Kathleen if it were my professional name. I've never been called Kathleen in my life! Major hyperventilation and an identity crisis ensued.

 

The other minor crisis took place between my twin sister and me. Mandi is the best sister in the entire world, and we are pretty close even though we live 12 hours apart. We traveled Europe together during our sophomore year, and we recently decided that upon graduation we should move to the same city and share an apartment. (And cook awesome vegetarian food for each other.) The drawback that didn't occur to me was that we would be competing for the same jobs. As ambitious young women looking to enter the (sharply contracting) field of journalism, we will probably end up applying for many of the same positions.

 

Our first overlap became clear to me this week. We're both applying for an incredible NPR fellowship aimed at recent college graduates with "exceptional potential and drive" and a desire to work in public radio. I want it so bad I can taste it! And Mandi does too. It's awkwardly reminiscent of our senior year of high school, when we both applied for the ultra-competitive Hays Memorial Scholarship at Hendrix, and I got it. And she didn't. I would hate to do that to Mandi again, but I would also hate to stifle myself for fear of hurting her self-esteem.

 

We talked last night and decided that we won't tell each other what fellowships, internships and jobs we're applying for, so that neither of us feels pressure not to apply for an opportunity we find out about. Ignorance is bliss.