What is your biggest flaw?

If I had to do a job interview, I'd use this as my one and only interview question. The responses fall into several categories:

1. The overly-scripted response. This person has played the game, knew that you'd ask that question, and has a statement ready. Although this is generally good, if you can tell it's scripted, it defeats the purpose. This person is out.

2. The "I didn't think you'd ask that question, but I'll make up an answer I think you'll like. These are the worst. Usually the responses include "Being overly punctual" or "Caring too much about the quality of my work". Did that line get you hired at McDonalds? Yeah? Then go back there.

3. The "I don't know." Honest, yes, but come back with something, anything.

4. The real response. Most people either don't know this or won't say it.

I think my "real response" would be my tendency to make blogs and not update them.

Saturday Morning

I woke up today, Saturday, around 9. I threw on some clothes and walked the 20 feet to Starbucks. I ordered my usual coffee, donut, and NY Times. When I came back I chatted with some neighbors, then ventured up to my apartment to sit on my patio in the 70-degree weather and read my paper. What an excellent morning.

One of the stories I gravitated to was about the surge in New Orleans murders. There have been 8 already this year (yes, 2007). Most of them were males shot in bad neighborhoods, but one case was particularly scary. A couple in their mid-thirties were both shot by an intruder in their home early Thursday morning. As I read the article, I kept looking at their picture. It's not a wedding picture or a "professional" photo taken at Sears.
As you can see, it's much more private than that. It looks like they were out one night when one of their friends randomly snapped a picture. The couple is not posed, and the guy is even holding his hand up in mock indignation (or in greeting, I'm not really sure which). I'm not sure why the picture affected me so much. I think it's because I could easily have a picture like this on my wall. Or I could easily be in a picture like this. I could be that woman. I could be Helen Hill who was shot to death in her own home, while her husband (who was also shot) watched and held their two-year-old daughter.

It's scary when something like this causes a dent in your sense of security. I like my blanket of invulnerability that I feel day to day. Of course I don't live without danger - but I kind of feel like I do. I don't know if I got this from a worry-free childhood, or from the Midwest, or if it's just an ingrained part of my personality, but I like it. I do know that I, like all of you reading this, will die. I also know that chances are it will be painful and "before my time". But at least I'm happy now. If nothing else I've had 23 damn good years, which is more than many others have.

**This post is depressing, random, and un-edited. It's a stream of consciousness caused by the unseasonably warm weather.