Chick View

I've coined a new phrase: Chick View. Follow my faulty logic along, will you?

Any movie starring women = Chick Flick

Any book that merely mentions romantic entanglements = Chick Lit

All interviews I've been on = Chick View

What do these things have in common? Something feminine, something new, a flight of fantasy and lots of blue--as in navy pantsuits to wear for interviews.

It always starts out so promisingly, as do most romantic comedies: an email response, a flirtatious phone call, and invitation to meet.

A girl's mind immediately starts to race, picking out the dress (or skirt and shirt), flowers (or briefcase/professional-looking bag), shoes (for confident strutting), the size of the ring (salary, cash bonus and 401k offer), and the honeymoon (do they or don't they offer health care coverage?)

Will you take this job for better or worse?

Admit it, who reading this hasn't pictured that hot Ivy-League grad who just bought you a drink in a tuxedo? I often commit similar fantasy crimes when I picture the director of Human Resources asking me for a salary range. It goes something like this:

"What sort of compensation were you looking for?"

"F--"

"Five hundred thousand to start? Great! That's just what we were about to offer you."

"When would you like me to start?"

"Oh, please take your time. Go home and call us when you're ready, but in the meantime, let me take your direct deposit information to deliver your first paycheck right this second right now."

"Thank you?"

"No June, THANK YOU. Now go home and enjoy that extended money-worry-free vacation you deserve."

Sigh.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Don't answer that.

Ridiculously yours,

June