When I was an undergrad at Stanford, I had trouble articulating what I wanted to do after school.  The best I could say was that I wanted to be an "entrepreneur."   That, however, is not very specific -- more of an adjective than an occupation.  I racked my brain in my free time to try and figure out how everything would eventually materialize. 

Graduation was a looming worry.  School ended in June.  By April, I had secured my first job....summer intern at a startup called "Pinacus."  We were 11 guys and 1 girl, working out of an apartment in Menlo Park.  I worked in the bedroom, programming in Java and doing random tasks around the apartment.  We were trying to create the world's first "content marketplace."  That might have been a good idea, except for what happened in the Spring of 2000. 

I had no concept of how a stock market crash could effect our small angel-backed startup, but it didn't matter.  By July, I was unemployed.  We folded up shop, broke our lease, and returned half of the angel investment.  Our model needed a significant round of Venture Capital.  I watched the founders come home disappointed day after day from their meetings on Sand Hill road.  It wasn't their fault -- most VCs were completely clamped shut. 

Freedom was good.  A week after the layoffs, I boarded the back of a U-haul truck on the way to New York.  Garth was moving to Manhattan and I tagged along.  He didn't let me drive because he didn't trust me behind the wheel.  I spent the entire voyage in the cargo area in the back.  We arrived in NYC in 3 days and only stopped once for any period of time.  Omaha baby.