The Cocktail Question

In his all-over-the-place best-selling book, The 4-Hour Workweek, Timothy Ferriss references the social phenomoneon that he calls “the cocktail question.”

You know what I’m talking about: the question that’s ALWAYS asked at cocktail parties, happy hours, family reunions/holidays, on first dates, or really anytime we’re in a so-and-so-meet-so-and-so situation.

It’s always the first question.

So. What do you do?

It’s an easy cop-out and icebreaker, and we know it’s coming, so we answer it.

I’m an accountant. I’m in advertising. I’m a teacher. A customer service rep, a cashier, stay-at-home-mom, stay-at-home-dad, a musician, a realtor, a insert-your-job-title-or-industry-here-er.

But I’d bet my britches that what your PROFESSION is, what your JOB is, what you do for 40 (or 50 or 60) hours each week and for x-amount of dollars each payday doesn’t define you, and that it’s only a sliver of what you do.

I’ve been mulling this question over and over lately as I’ve had to answer it a number of different times, having been put in a handful of new-people-situations this year. In one case in particular what this new friend wanted to know about me had only a tiny bit to do with what I get paid to do for 40ish hours each week.

So. What do I do?

The default answer to that cocktail question is that by day, I’m an online media buyer. I work in advertising, an industry that interests and challenges me with colleagues that teach and inspire me.

But it’s no where near all I do. Too often we let our job descriptions be our SELF descriptions and while I hope you hold a job that holds your attention and passions, I want to know what else you actually DO.

So. What DO I do?

Well, I write. For fun, for work, for correspondence, for posterity.

I learn. I have an insatiable curiosity for the things I’m interested in (includes, but is not limited to: maps, wine, your personal story, if I can pull off cowboy boots with skirts, why Taylor Lautner isn’t 10 years older, food photography, and where in Minneapolis (ok fine, THE WORLD) I can find the best cheese plate).

I travel. I read (ok, I try to read, but don’t as much as I’d like to).

I run. Not often enough, and I hate getting started but I do it and then I do some of my most clear thinking. I cook, a lot. However, I do NOT bake. I don’t like following directions (surprise, surprise), and I don’t have the patience for exact measurements, so I don’t bake. Unless it came in a box or a tube and just requires me to add some combination of water, oil, 2 eggs, and milk.

I DO make kickass blueberry waffles (from a box, with the addition of well, blueberries, and BUTTERMILK, oil, 2 eggs, and a few secret ingredients).

I car-dance. I drink coffee in the mornings, tea in the evenings. I drink champagne often just for the sheer hell of it.

I collaborate on some KICKASS side projects in the social media world. I practice yoga and will be all certified to teach it in 8 1/2 weeks. I spend too much money on iTunes. I host fabulous parties on behalf of Nintendo.

I spend time with my parents and sister at least every couple of weeks. Wine is always involved. Kitchen-dancing often is. I speak broken Spanish, but will try anyway. I Irish jig when I’m drunk on St. Patrick’s Day. Or someone plays Flogging Molly. Or someone tells me to.

I tweet, and blog, and subscribe, and follow. I dance. I sing really loudly in the car. I talk to myself. I meet my girlfriends for coffee or brunch or happy hour. I drink wine out of paper cups in hot tubs listening to Radiohead in the dead of Minnesota winters.

I drink beers on my patio with my roommates, walk barefoot through the backyard to take out the garbage just to feel the too-long-because-I-didn’t-mow-it grass between my toes, and sprawl outside on blankets with wine, take-out, and inspiring friends.

I dominate Catch Phrase. I do NOT play Monopoly.

I hand-make cards. I save things with sentimental value, even if only for a little while. I journal.

I put Sriracha sauce in my mac and cheese, eat fried okra like popcorn, and consider a cheese+bread+fruit plate to be a completely adequate dinner.

As of last weekend, I drink Grey Goose martinis, dirty. I furrow my eyebrows and make a scrunchy-nose face when I’m trying to figure something out. I laugh loudly. I change hair colors with the seasons, if not more often. I find sleeve tattoos, Eddie Vedder’s voice, Shannyn Sossamon, and tall men in sweatpants and t-shirts insanely sexy.

I wear leggings. With dresses, not as pants. I play guitar. Ok, so I really just play one Pearl Jam song (Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town), one Matchbox 20 song (Push), the intro to Dueling Banjos, and one riff (line? part? sequence?) of Tripping Billies.

I support the people I love. I rarely play devil’s advocate. I pry, but only because I have to know you better. I value family. I value friends that are like family. I eat my vegetables. I share my secrets quickly. I love deeply. I trust easily. I learn quickly. I kiss deliberately.

And this is just scratching the surface.

So sure. At first glance, I’m a media buyer, social media consultant, sister, daughter, friend.

But it’s not all I do.

What about you?

What do you do? From 9-5, in your waking hours, on your weekends, because you always have, or because you’ve always wanted to.

What do YOU do?