1. Name a job that you would hate to have.
Maybe it's a side effect of the PTSD I have from a late-90s stint in high-tech PR but I would hate to sell any kind of technology product or service. It's not so much the technology -- much of which I find interesting -- but the industry culture at large. For some reason, tech companies always seem to be located in sterile suburban office parks right off major highways. While working at a sterile suburban office park right off 128, I often had the opportunity to leave the office on business travel. Unfortunately, it was always for another sterile suburban office park right off a major highway. It didn't matter if it was San Francisco or Bowling Green, Kentucky. It was all the same. I'd spend my days whoring about for media coverage for gel-coiffed 20-something guys with names like "Kenneth," whom I am certain masturbated to their own press clips judging from the sudden onset of exuburance whenever they saw their names in print (even in publications like Supply Chain Systems Magazine.) One of the more heinous "Kenneths," whose company's office park was right outside of San Fran, was a bit of a schizo. He would ignore you while angrily pecking at his Palm Pilot and then challenge you to a friendly game of Foozball. He'd mercilessly eviscerate a press release you wrote and then offer you a Bud Light in the middle of the work day -- just to show you how fun-loving he was when he wasn't being such a hardass. I hated this man. Worse, he forced me and my colleagues to socialize with him and his unctuous colleagues each night. He not only made us wear golf shirts with corporate logos (he only had size XLs. I looked like an 11-year-old playing dress up in her father's shirt) but he took us -- good god make it stop -- to the Olive Garden. I vividly remember thinking I'm five minutes from San Francisco and I'm having dinner at the Olive Garden with a bunch of assholes. After dinner, I escaped. I took a cab to Vesuvio by myself and chain smoked away the self-loathing. Thank goodness for the dot.com bust.
2. Name 3 things that are on your desk at home or work.
Color Wonder finger paints, a diet coke, and a mixed CD from JAL with all my favorite gay-boy dance tunes that I play whenever I need a chair-dancing break. It's like a mini-vacation. BTW-Thanks, Jim.
3. If you could change occupations, what would you want to do?
I'd be a lounge singer at a swanky hotel bar. Because Lady Owls Love Hotel Bars (LOLHB).
4. How much cash do you usually carry with you?
I've always got a pimp wad in my purse and I'm certain the buttoned-down clerks at my Panera Bread satellite office think I'm a stripper. I need to pay my babysitters in cash every day. That, coupled with my current love affair with Supreme Omelet sandwiches (sans fromage) and Turbo Hots at the Dunkie's drive-thru requires frequent trips thru the Bank of America ATM. I hope disclosure of this information does not get me mugged at the Derby Shoppes next week.
5. What word or phrase do you use most frequently?
"That's insane." This week, it's been "Chill, Jimmy, it's only basketball."