The Anti-Dooce?

After a 30-minute conversation with my pseudo-boss about science and my committee meeting next week, this came up:

Pseudo-boss: "So, last week when I needed to talk to you about last minute issues with the grant proposal, I realized I didn't have your cell phone number. So I googled your name..."

Me: "Oh shit. You found my website(s)."

Pseudo-boss: "So...you're really into music, huh?"

And thus followed a 20-minute conversation involving Thievery Corporation, Foxboro Hot Tubs, and Beck. He said he didn't know much about local music, so I referred him to SD:Dialedin. And then I told him to go see Swim Party at the Belly Up tonight, since he lives up in North County.

It ended like this:

Me: "So you know, if the science thing doesn't work out..."

Pseudo-boss: "Music photography."

Me: "Yeah. Too bad there's no money in it."

Pseudo-boss: "Like there's any money in science."

I think this is why I decided to stay in San Diego instead of following my real boss to San Francisco. At least the pseudo-boss is straight with me.

And I don't feel weird swearing in front of him. THAT is important.