1. How are you planning to spend the summer [winter]?
Well, the first third has been taken up with The Move, of which you are all heartily sick of hearing about. The next month will be spent camping out in an empty apartment waiting for the furniture to catch up to us. The third month will be spent arranging said furniture and getting the GM1 settled into his new command.
I have a very calendaric view of the seasons. I think of Summer as strictly June, July, and August. Autumn is September, October, and November, etc. None of this "begins on the 21st" nonsense. I like my seasons clear-cut and well-defined. Just another minor bit for the committment hearing.
2. What was your first summer job?
Other than babysitting, my first receive-a-paycheck-for-wearing-an-unbecoming-polyester-uniform job was one I had at age 15. It was at Burger Chef, the precursor to Burger King. I was fired n my third day for coming up 89 cents short at count-out. I expect my refusal to kiss the manager's son in the walk-in freezer might have accounted for the rapid firing.
My refusals for such things usually included a knee to the balls.
3. If you could go anywhere this summer [winter], where would you go?
I would be ensconced in the Grand Floridian Hotel in Orlando, going to Disneyworld and Epcot and Universal every day, partying every night at Pleasure Island. I don't give one good hang for all the naysayers who decry the commercialism and greed of the megatheme parks. I am happiest knowing I'm three people back in line from shaking Mickey's oversized hand.
And you may call me a rube, but any hotel that provides a fluffy robe and a 24 hour hottub is heaven to me.
4. What was your worst vacation ever?
I was seventeen, just graduated from high school, yet not quite the age when I could assert my independence enough to avoid a car trip to a campground in Florida with my family. That has to be the definition of hell for a teenager: trapped in a car with parents who Just Don't Understand and siblings who are the Bane Of Your Existence for 20 hours. The drive was further enlivened by my brother's chronic carsickness and my dad's monotone humming for the entire way.
I don't really remember much about the actual camping trip itself. Since I hate camping to this day, it must have been traumatizing enough that I've blocked it all out.
5. What was your best vacation ever?
As I mentioned before, a week in Orlando, pampered in the Grand Floridian and dancing every night until I dropped. Lots of adventures. Lots of junk food. Lots of fun. Lots of scandal if the details ever get out. Lots and lots of expense.
I don't care. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.
(previously posted on Blogspot)