1. What was your first job? As soon as I turned 14, I went down to the local grocery store (there was only one) and turned in an application. (You had to be 14 to work part-time in Indiana then.) Within a week I was working at the Wolcottville IGA, mostly just as a cashier. We were in such a dinky town that we didn’t even have scanners or accept credit cards. I ended up working there for three years. I started out making $4.25 an hour, and I was at $4.50 when I left. This job also qualifies as the worst job of my life.
2. How old were you when you had your first kiss? First real one? Sixteen. (I was a late bloomer.) As the kissee is now a psychopathic drug-addict bisexual, that’s all I’m going to say about that.
3. What was your first car? What happened to it? It was a maroon 1986 Pontiac Grand Am. My parents and grandmother chipped in to buy it for me not long after I turned 16. I drove it all through high school, and it managed to survive a cracked engine head, alternator trouble, flat tires, and constant overheating. Eventually it was so run-down that we sold it to some Mexican migrant farm workers. (Seriously.)
4. What was your first concert? When I was 16 I saw Bryan Adams in Cologne, Germany when I was there for a summer study program. Forget David Hasselhoff; Bryan Adams is big in Germany. It actually wasn’t a bad show. It was a little weird, though, to look around a soccer stadium filled with 45,000 screaming people and realize that I was the tallest female in sight.
5. How do you plan to spend your weekend? Saturday was designated for Survivor, of course. Afterwards we headed out to see Samson and Sharky at the Nag’s Head pub (hence my drunken ramblings below). Sunday is gym day, as I head off to work through my new weight-lifting program for the first time on my own. Other than that, just vegging, most likely.