Never been one to let the carrier drop

One of the fun things about the job I do in Texas is the exciting oppertunity to dress up like a monkey every day, and go pretend to be, if not conservative, at least not so rabidly liberal that I’d donate to the ACLU or something. [Yes, I have. Card carrying member. Proud of it, too]

But, since I drop the act come lunchtime, this can lead to some amusing – um – confusions. One of the people who works here was overheard remarking I was very ‘Seattle’.

SEattle has become synonymous with liberal? Unreconstructed leftism, perhaps? [I’d try and point to P.’s journal entry on the subject, but I’ve given up on LJ-tags. They’re not consistant, and they don’t love me]

[I wonder if it would kill the LJ people to accept a few of the more obvious mispellings and perversions of their tags. I suppose every ounce of CPU counts.. ]

Anyway, come 1pm my ‘nice boy who would never march in the streets shouting about what a louse bush is’ act is back in place, and everyone is more or less happy.

But it’s always strange, when I catch myself in the mirrors which adorn so many of the cubicle walls.. [to make them feel slightly larger than the average elevator no doubt]. I don’t really recognize myself with my hair combed and tied back, in button up shirts and pants that don’t have Levi on them anywhere or any holes in them.

A friend recently asked if my hair was my security blanket. [And my old boss used to joke that like Sampson, if I were to cut it, I’d lose all my mysical make-the-machines-work powers]. I don’t think my hair is, exactly, but I think perhaps my entire appearance is. I find it reassuring that no one has yet managed to cram me into a suit and tie for more than a week at a time, and yet I’m not working at burger king. When someone does.. and I’m sure tehy will, sooner or later.. I’ll know that I’ve well and truly failed.

My friend at the search engine (Accenture? Overture? I can never remember what they’re called) emailed again offering me a job in pasadena. Oh, how nice. I’d take it, but I’ve got more than enough to do already.

Whups, dinner calls, must run

S.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 1st, 2003 at 12:56 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.