Hey, look who's in Fortune this fortnight:
There have been iPod parties in clubs in New York City, Amsterdam, and even places like Cafe Montmartre in Madison, where folks take a number and get ten to 15 minutes to try to out-deejay one another.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Proust I ain't, but...
After all that time freelancing and playing live music and being a graduate student, it's weird working in an office again. Small things keep evoking vivid, often bodily, memories of earlier office gigs, and the memories aren't always pleasant. For example, just as I sat down in my cube first thing yesterday morning, the phone at the front desk rang, and I shuddered involuntarily. It took me a moment to figure out why: back in my Chicago days, I worked for a software consultancy where I wrote database programs and provided telephone support for same. A phone-support call first thing in the morning often meant very bad news indeed, and hence the shudder. But the call yesterday was not for me.
After all that time freelancing and playing live music and being a graduate student, it's weird working in an office again. Small things keep evoking vivid, often bodily, memories of earlier office gigs, and the memories aren't always pleasant. For example, just as I sat down in my cube first thing yesterday morning, the phone at the front desk rang, and I shuddered involuntarily. It took me a moment to figure out why: back in my Chicago days, I worked for a software consultancy where I wrote database programs and provided telephone support for same. A phone-support call first thing in the morning often meant very bad news indeed, and hence the shudder. But the call yesterday was not for me.
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