today was my inaugural experience with the office intercom. a relatively simple task: pick up the phone, hit PAGE, speak, then hang up. easy. but scaaaaaaary. because this was the closest i have come to a microphone since the Great Public Speaking Debacle of January 2006.
but before we get to the GPSDOJ2, let me clarify: i, of course, hate any and all phones. but i most especially hate microphones. they're second only to birds. because you can be the smartest, most beautiful, successful, pulled together person on the planet and the second a microphone's stuck in your face, you sound like a raving loon. just watch the oscars. watch the biggest celebrities of our time trying to pull off a microphone. even they can't rock it. because a microphone is not a megaphone or a telephone. it's a phone all its own and that's a tough distinction. even bono can't manage it and there's very little bono can't do.
which brings us to the GPSDOJ2. the infamous time that i screamed at the top of my lungs to a roomful of memphis' 100 brightest students, their parents, and their siblings to PLEASE GATHER ROUND WE WILL BE PHOTOGRAPHING IMMEDIATELY!!!! in my inexplicable judi dench voice only to discover that i was standing less than 2 inches from a live microphone and entirely unawares. you haven't lived until you've seen 100 pairs of hands leap up to 100 pairs of ears as a wave of pain ripples through 100 pairs of eyes all riveted upon you, all communicating the same thought: damn white british women editing ethnic magazines.
i've lived. but that kind of living makes some things tough. like picking up the phone, hitting PAGE, and saying "pick up on 101" in a carefully modulated tone with precisely clipped syllables and no breathing whatsoever. hanging up never felt so good.