I’m not sure when it happened, when I became a corporate muse to my boss, a Mother Hen to my peers, and the type of employee who is resigned to wasting time by covertly taking notes about
As a kid, I was overly fascinated with keys—not the jangly kinds that unlock doors and secret diaries and stash boxes—the kind you find on antique cash registers, typewriters, and adding machines. For whatever tactile pleasure these mechanical devices provided I may never
Kudos to you, dude, I said to the cubicle wall. Now, here’s a guy, who spends his day unplugging toilets and changing light bulbs, and he cares enough about the Canadian English language to have a Canadian Oxford Dictionary on his desk.
Dear Ms. Vanderbilt,
When an interview request via Lewis Frumkes was unsuccessful in April 2008, I was disappointed at the missed opportunity—not just for the members of a local writers’ newsletter who anticipated reading the published interview, but also (more selfishly) for the chance to pass along the enclosed poem.
At the time of the interview request, [...]
Working for a talent agency can be a strange and wonderful thing. Actors are funny, goofy, entertaining, and at times insecure, neurotic and almost always, warm human beings. Agents are not.
A love letter of sorts to a dream job turned down.
Without email or Internet access, I had some time to kill. I leaned back in my chair, stared at my office wall, and began to speculate about the consequential effects Mercury Retrograde was having on the Akashic Records.