Prefectly respectable corporate marketer with a hippie-geek alter-ego.
To the End of the Line
A terrible metallic taste flooded Riga's mouth. It started in the back of her throat and snaked all the way up to her front teeth, pushing against pursed lips. She clenched her jaw to keep from vomiting and threw her arms around her stomach. Muscles spasmed, joints popped, and she doubled over. The world around her pulsed in puffy blotches, but a harsh glare pierced her vision. It was a rude awakening.
A Fridge Photo and a Texas Tradition
I took a video of my daughter yesterday. In it, she’s crouched under the branches of a blueberry bush. Her plump face hovers over a bushel basket and she’s popping fresh berries into her mouth, one after the other, with the fervor of a ravenous woodland creature. But that’s what two-year-old’s do; they find something they love and indulge with abandon.
The Digital Execution team is the frat house of the Marketing department. On my side of the floor, us perfectly respectable executives and 30-something hustlers greet each other politely, then put on our noise-cancelling headphones, thank you very much.