Archive: About

Operation Pink Herring asked:

If you could have one superpower (anything), what would it be?

I used to choose invisibility, but I didn’t really know what exactly would be an application for this power. Spying? Eavesdropping? Then, that Clay Aiken song came out, and I felt like I would be a stalker, so I let go of invisibility as a matter of principle. Now, my superpower of choice is the ability to travel somewhere instantaneously, like apparition in the Harry Potter books, without having to take silly things like the space/time continuum into account.

My everyday routine would feel the immediate benefits: no more commute! Or gas price-gouging! Or fearing for my life because of aggressive drivers! Plus, more sleep! During longer trips, I would never have to deal with the airport-security-juggle-ticket-wallet shenanigans or the roadside-rest-stop-don’t-touch-anything feeling. Ah, yes. One can dream.

It would be remiss to answer this superpower question without referring to Lisa’s inquiry:

On a scale of 1-10, how good are you at geography?

Assuming a scale where 1 means that I couldn’t get out of a paper bag, and 10 means that I can tell you where every state, country, and capital are located, I would rate myself at a big 2, which directly relates to my superpower choice. I manage to get myself to work every day, but I am so very awful at spatial relations, directions, and geography as a whole. I can’t:

• Do those puzzles where there’s a disassembled cube with a symbol on each side, and the questions about the assembled cube are things like: “Which of the following symbol combinations is NOT possible?”; or “Which symbol lies opposite this one?”
• Follow directions without having road names and corresponding numbers (e.g., Route 7 is also called Limestone Road), mileage, landmarks, and hints when I’ve gone too far. I am that guy who physically turns the map around to get oriented, points at whatever is nearest, and then points to it on the map. And then turns the map around again.
• Step out of a store in the mall and continue in the direction I want to travel. I always get turned around, even if I only take a quick lap around a shoe store. My mother-in-law calls it “mall dyslexia.”
• Visualize states and surrounding areas. JG loves to tell the story about when I was completely confused about the spatial relationship between New England and Pennsylvania, and I asked, “Which is more south, Connecticut or Pennsylvania?” Because Connecticut is the southernmost New England state! And the universe revolves around New England! My question was totally justified! (Not really.)

I’m lucky that I even make it through my daily commute, which I owe to marking it out with detailed instructions (see above), committing the route to memory, and driving by rote. Heaven forbid that a road is closed, I get asked about one of those square Midwestern states, or my life depends on some spatial problem. I thank my lucky stars that JG is at least a 9 on that scale, and that he doesn’t mind driving.

Previously: Lent, hypothetical actions

#83

In the space of just one morning, I have already whacked myself in the face with not one, but two heavy objects. First, a gust of wind blew my door into my chin when I got into my car. Later, I misjudged how much room I needed to get through a doorway, and one of the large mailing tubes I was carrying smacked me in the cheek. Unfortunately, I bruise really easily — “like a peach!” (anyone?) — but I haven’t checked a mirror yet to assess the damage. Face bruises are kind of high on my list of bad omens.

I need no second bidding to enter the land of fun possibilities and what-ifs, thanks to another lovely installment of Q and A.

Anna asked:

If you could trade places with anyone for one day who would it be and why?

My silly choice would be someone like Reese Witherspoon or Natalie Portman, because I love how they manage to avoid all of the stupid celebrity trappings like gossip, mug shots, and car chases while simultaneously being incredibly fashionable and career-savvy. I’m so curious how their everyday lives are. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I’d like to observe them, in a non-scary way, than be them.

My lazy choice would be a dog with good owners, because seriously — that is the life, people.

However, I am currently struggling with the question of graduate school, and how it relates to potential but not guaranteed job growth, the financial consequences of taking out additional loans, and the investment of time and energy, so I am more inclined to make a boring choice. I would like to trade places with a pharmaceutical regulatory writer, so that I could get a glimpse into the career I think I want to pursue, and thereby have more insight into this grad school issue. Alternatively, I would like to trade places with someone who currently has whatever my dream job happens to be, so I can just figure that out already.

Operation Pink Herring asked:

If you could go back in time and change one thing you did, what would it be?

There are a handful of stupid, disrespectful, or downright awful things I did to my parents during my short-lived, yet fiery, teenage rebellious stage. I would like to go back to my seventeen-year-old self and prevent those events, if only to alleviate the annoying obviousness to my twentysomething self that, oh, I was such an idiot.

Also, for the sake of having a specific choice, I would not have run for student council in high school. It was such an overachiever thing to do, to run for vice president and president of my class, but that extra-curricular activity was the bane of my existence. My class was completely unmotivated to support car washes, buy carnation messages at Valentine’s Day, or dress up for Spirit Week, but they were totally on board with complaining about how lame our prom was. Plus, no one ever told me that the class president is responsible for planning reunions. Where was that in the contract? It doesn’t make sense for me to plan anything from 250 miles away, so I blindly assume that someone else will pull something together. I simply refuse to be in the reunion equivalent situation of rigging up a freaking balloon arch 45 minutes before the photographer gets there with his shiny fringe backdrop.

Previously: Lent

Thank you, lovely question-askers! I rounded up all of them and separated them into compact little categories so that I can dole them out periodically over the next handful of weeks. I know, the suspense is killing. Without further ado —

Audrey asked:

Are you giving up anything for Lent? If so, what? If not, if you were to give something up, what would it be? (This is strangely fascinating to me because I have never given up anything for Lent in my life.)

I thought I should address this question first, since we are knee-deep in Lent at this point. Better late, right?

Raised as a conservative Baptist in my small Connecticut town, I had never even heard of Lent, or giving anything up for it, until I started attending public school in the fourth grade. All of my Polish-Catholic classmates came in one day with ash smeared on their foreheads, bemoaning their lost television privileges and dinners consisting of Filet-o-Fish sandwiches. “For Lent, for Lent,” they explained, which was no explanation to me, whose Easter preparations involved helping Mom pick out a ham, trying on a new dress at Filene’s, going to Good Friday services, and discussing the Easter sermon over said ham. Since then, I’ve progressed into a Presbyterian (as my pastor jokes), and Lent still does not register on my radar. I know when it occurs, but it doesn’t have a place in my religious observances or behavioral pattern. So, to make a short answer long, no, I am not giving anything up. If pressed, I might go without browsing online retailers when I have no interest in buying. It only serves to feed any latent discontent.

That said, I am also fascinated with Lenten sacrifices, particularly when folks seem more likely to give up something during a period that does not apply to them religiously than to give up something for the new year. I can’t help but notice that, outside the context of religious piety, the two practices appear to be equally arbitrary, with the significant observation that Lent is a whole 326 days shorter than 2008. Maybe Lent is a good excuse to try out a life improvement, rather than going whole hog and committing for the entire year. Pick your poison, I guess.

It may be old news to those who are keeping track (heh), but this here entry is my 300th! I’ve used past centennial entries to indulge in the more gimmicky posts, so let this be no exception.

Back in my early days of blogging, I thought that bloggers with FAQ pages were automatically Very Interesting People. What must it be like, I wondered, to be so widely-read that people would ask the same things over and over to the point that one would be compelled to compile the questions into a quick reference? Over time, I let go of this criterion of greatness once I realized that a blogger could simply — gasp — make up the questions. Ah, naïveté.

In homage to this assumption of yore, I solicit your questions, burning or otherwise, for answering in future posts. What’s that interview question you like to pose? Do you need a book recommendation? Would you like clarification on anything? I am an open book.*

There’s no harm if any of the Qs turn out to be F A, right?

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* Well, to a point. I’ll answer what I can to the extent that I deem appropriate, and I reserve the right to respond via e-mail. Keep it clean, kids!

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In a serendipitous connection to these questions and answers, I’ve signed up for Citizen of the Month’s Great Interview Experiment, and I am excessively excited about it.