A couple of readers have emailed asking about the Andrea Gibson line I quoted in, You'll Never Interview in This Town Again. It's actually from a poem, Asking Too Much. I've posted it here. It's one of my faves...and also further proof that I'm a third-rate sad sack of a poet. Scratch that. Non-poet.
If you like this poem, there's a hell of a lot more where that came from. See here. For Eli is especially one that knocks the breath out of me. You can help a poet out by buying her work here. I'm always in search of great poets; hit me up with some recommendations.I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you
Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through
Tell me what the word “home” means to you
And tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name
just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8
Today marks the 100-year anniversary of the start of World War I. With everything going on in the world today–the Russia/Ukraine crisis, the Middle East, the Kardashians–it's obvious we haven't learned jack shit from the past. But I'm not here to write a manifesto about the decline of our civilization–that would take way more sleep than what I had last night. What I am going to do is point you in the direction of the best book on World War I, evah. I picked up this book not knowing didley–WWII has always been my thing–and came away an educated white woman. But don't let the bad "e" word scare you, it's surprisingly good "e" too (entertaining). You won't be bored. Trust Aunt Erin on this.
So excited to announce my book, You'll Never Interview in This Town Again, will be out on August 23rd! To read an excerpt, click here.
Austin’s 5th Best Place to Work
It was a playground, not an office. It was several large open rooms of ping pong tables and old arcade games. Basketball hoops hanging over doors. Lawn chairs spread out along carpet green and crisp to mimic golf turf. Multi-colored walls tricked out with collages of photos from company events: flag football and water balloon fights, Margarita Monday and someone named Roger’s 30th birthday party, which was pirate-themed. Booze and bikinis and blinding white teeth and ironically-thrown gang signs galore.
The Greek chorus in my head began singing their disapproval the moment I walked through the North Austin glass doors of “Austin’s 5th Best Place to Work.” I tried to ignore them and be objective. This place was not awful; it’s only awful for you. For a recent college graduate without a family or attention deficit disorder, it might have been heaven. But I was a 35-year-old mom of two who downed Adderhol every morning just to remember to throw on underwear before leaving the house. I was getting older and becoming more and more anti-social and I didn’t fancy my work place to resemble Pee Wee's Playhouse.
“At Volmano, we work hard but we play hard too,” I heard from behind me. The reciter of the cheesy, generic slogan all Austin software companies seemed to favor was Stacey, the HR rep I’d been email tangoing with since I first started jockeying for a career opportunity there. Petite, young, blonde, she had the sort of overwhelming enthusiasm reminiscent of actors on Disney cruises. She skipped past an assortment of hula hoops and pointed to a door next to a sign reading, Cupcakes Tomorrow!!! Yum, Yum!
“This is the Never-Ending-Gobstopper room,” she explained. “Across the way is the flamenco bar. Free yoga in the afternoons! Oh, and we have ‘Bring Your Dog to Work Day’ on Tuesday. ‘Come to Work in Your Jammies Day’ on Wednesday. We have Beer Fridays too.”
“Is it on Fridays?” I joked.