My Interview
Friday, December 3, 2010
Hudson/Houston
For an entire week, my face will awkwardly be on the home screen of every employee's computer at the Agency. I'm not sure I really thought this one through...
My Interview
My Interview
Monday, November 22, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Average of Five
Jim Rohn -- you know, the motivational speaker -- once said, “You’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” And, it made me think -- who am I an average of?
My most recent self would be...
Showanna -- She makes the best 25¢ coffee around and she knows exactly how I like it (a little skim milk, one Splenda packet, a dash of cinnamon). We chat every morning at 8:45. She tells me her son’s latest shenanigans. We talk about the weather and the news in the most easy, cheerful sort of way.
Andy Cohen -- He is pure reality show genius. I love that he’s reinvented Wayne’s World-esque programming on mainstream TV. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m a fan of The Real Housewives series. Yes -- all of them. And, the fact that Andy makes my top five list may say something about my social life. But, frankly I’m OK with that.
Sarah –- She’s been my partner-in-crime since Mr. Summer’s first period AP Calculus class. She may know me better than anyone in my life. She makes a mean green bean roll-up and can hold her own any dance floor. We grew up in the same neighborhood, nearly share a birthday, earned MA’s together, and now we work in the same building. Once dorm roommates and now neighbors, she is my forever BFF.
Team Cheerios -- Without flinching, we use phrases like, “circle back,” “touch base” and “game changing.” We pretend like people actually watch commercials. We compete on frequent flier status, practice our Minnesota accents, and TOTALLY keep each other sane.
Pete -- He can recite Airplane! and the Goonies, watches endless hours British motorcycle racing, and may believe that the crunch berries in Captain Crunch count as fruit. He is a parallel parking master. He texts me “good morning” every day. And, while life keeps us apart most of the week, he puts me first every moment we have free. This past weekend we took our bikes to the Delaware River. We rode 20 miles along the canal. Along the way, we stopped the have coffee at this little café near the river. The sun was warm and the wind cool. We talked about nothing. And, all I could think about was that I couldn’t be happier.
My most recent self would be...
Showanna -- She makes the best 25¢ coffee around and she knows exactly how I like it (a little skim milk, one Splenda packet, a dash of cinnamon). We chat every morning at 8:45. She tells me her son’s latest shenanigans. We talk about the weather and the news in the most easy, cheerful sort of way.
Andy Cohen -- He is pure reality show genius. I love that he’s reinvented Wayne’s World-esque programming on mainstream TV. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m a fan of The Real Housewives series. Yes -- all of them. And, the fact that Andy makes my top five list may say something about my social life. But, frankly I’m OK with that.
Sarah –- She’s been my partner-in-crime since Mr. Summer’s first period AP Calculus class. She may know me better than anyone in my life. She makes a mean green bean roll-up and can hold her own any dance floor. We grew up in the same neighborhood, nearly share a birthday, earned MA’s together, and now we work in the same building. Once dorm roommates and now neighbors, she is my forever BFF.
Team Cheerios -- Without flinching, we use phrases like, “circle back,” “touch base” and “game changing.” We pretend like people actually watch commercials. We compete on frequent flier status, practice our Minnesota accents, and TOTALLY keep each other sane.
Pete -- He can recite Airplane! and the Goonies, watches endless hours British motorcycle racing, and may believe that the crunch berries in Captain Crunch count as fruit. He is a parallel parking master. He texts me “good morning” every day. And, while life keeps us apart most of the week, he puts me first every moment we have free. This past weekend we took our bikes to the Delaware River. We rode 20 miles along the canal. Along the way, we stopped the have coffee at this little café near the river. The sun was warm and the wind cool. We talked about nothing. And, all I could think about was that I couldn’t be happier.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Completely Embarrassed
I embarrass myself often. It's a mix of hyper self-awareness and occasional awkwardness. When it happens, I turn this unnatural shade of pink from neck to forehead. Let me tell you about my most recent streak of embarrassing moments...
Saturday, May 22... Dropped drawers
Our friends Brian and Mary got married in a town I’m ironically familiar with. The wedding was a beautiful Catholic ceremony followed by a classically sweet reception. The day was filled with happiness and dancing, and topped off with fireworks. It all started that morning with a long drive from New Jersey to Pennsylvania. Pete and I carpooled with his childhood pal, Greg. Running a bit late, we knew we didn’t have time to make it to the hotel first so we decided to pull off at a gas station to change into our wedding attire. Like a grown up, I went inside to change in the ladies' room. When I came out, I see the boys putting their pants on in the parking lot. I’m pretty sure I heard a trucker honk his horn at them.
Monday, May 31... Neighbor snub
Pete’s parents generously let us stay at the family’s shore house for Memorial Day weekend. It was an amazing few days of sleeping in, coffee on the deck, and zero work emails. Monday we spent all day at the beach -- Pete soaking in the sun and me slathered in sunscreen, sheltered by a hat, shaded under an umbrella, and shrouded in a birkah. Anywho, as we lay there with cool sand on our feet, warm sun on our face, music in our ears and in a sort of half-comatose heaven, his neighbor walks up to us. I recognize her only by her gignormous bubbies. I mean, big. Pete fails to compute what’s happening and totally ignores her. I freeze in the moment and she ends up walking off. Oops. Double oops because we knew we would both see her the next weekend at his sister’s wedding.
Saturday, June 5... Wedding crash fail
Becky and Mike’s wedding was a gorgeous affair. The cathedral was breathtaking and the reception was heaped with food and love. And, well.. alcohol too. We even managed to redeem ourselves with the neighbor. By the end of the night, Pete, Johnny, Tara and I were the final guests. We responsibly called a cab to go home and then waited. And, waited some more. In our giddy states, we decided to kill some time at the wedding next door. It was only a few minutes later when we were politely asked to wait for our cab outside.
Monday, June 14... Breakdancing mommas
The next weekend I made a spontaneous trip home to Sugar Land. It was a humidity fest, kid-packed family extravaganza. I even turned my party crashing record around by making an unexpected appearance at Oliver's 2nd birthday. I have the best family on the planet and the trip went entirely too quickly. On the way home, I was squashed into the tiniest, middle seat in the history of coach. To distract me from the awkwardness of being three inches from a stranger in all directions, I was killing time by reviewing sweepstakes entries for a Cheerios promotion. As I read one Nebraska woman’s entry about her neighborhood breakdancing club, I could feel the eavesdropping eyes of the guy next to me. He had some boring, but respectable job in oil lubricants that I felt obligated to ask him about. Then, I had to tell him that I get paid to sell cereal to 40 something hip hop moms.
Sunday, June 20… The kicker
I started feeling queasy Saturday evening. Pete was off at Moby Dick Fantasy Camp and I was scheduled to fly out to Chicago the next day. I woke up a little sickly, but decided that I felt good enough to travel so I headed to the airport. I sat at the gate and the nausea continued to ebb and flow. I put my head as close as I could to my knees without calling attention to myself. When they started boarding, I decided that my strategy would be to let everyone get on the plane and then I would walk up last. As I handed the attendant my ticket, the room began to spin. It got really quiet and everything began to look like a pointillism painting. I felt like I was yelling, but in reality I probably just whispered that I needed help. Then I was on the ground. Every pore on my body opened up and I started sweating. I could hear the woman talking to me, but I couldn’t answer. I was horrified and nauseous and scared all in one breath. I could hear them calling the medics and feel her tying my hair back. Then suddenly, I found myself being directed onto the plane, in my seat, and on the way to Chicago. I suppose passing out in the gateway is not grounds for pulling someone off a flight. As soon as I sat down, I passed out and slept the entire two-hour trip. I was terrified that it would happen again when I stood up. But, somehow I made it to a cab and to my hotel. In case you're wondering, my stomach made a full recovery in Chicago. However, my pride is still healing.
Saturday, May 22... Dropped drawers
Our friends Brian and Mary got married in a town I’m ironically familiar with. The wedding was a beautiful Catholic ceremony followed by a classically sweet reception. The day was filled with happiness and dancing, and topped off with fireworks. It all started that morning with a long drive from New Jersey to Pennsylvania. Pete and I carpooled with his childhood pal, Greg. Running a bit late, we knew we didn’t have time to make it to the hotel first so we decided to pull off at a gas station to change into our wedding attire. Like a grown up, I went inside to change in the ladies' room. When I came out, I see the boys putting their pants on in the parking lot. I’m pretty sure I heard a trucker honk his horn at them.
Monday, May 31... Neighbor snub
Pete’s parents generously let us stay at the family’s shore house for Memorial Day weekend. It was an amazing few days of sleeping in, coffee on the deck, and zero work emails. Monday we spent all day at the beach -- Pete soaking in the sun and me slathered in sunscreen, sheltered by a hat, shaded under an umbrella, and shrouded in a birkah. Anywho, as we lay there with cool sand on our feet, warm sun on our face, music in our ears and in a sort of half-comatose heaven, his neighbor walks up to us. I recognize her only by her gignormous bubbies. I mean, big. Pete fails to compute what’s happening and totally ignores her. I freeze in the moment and she ends up walking off. Oops. Double oops because we knew we would both see her the next weekend at his sister’s wedding.
Saturday, June 5... Wedding crash fail
Becky and Mike’s wedding was a gorgeous affair. The cathedral was breathtaking and the reception was heaped with food and love. And, well.. alcohol too. We even managed to redeem ourselves with the neighbor. By the end of the night, Pete, Johnny, Tara and I were the final guests. We responsibly called a cab to go home and then waited. And, waited some more. In our giddy states, we decided to kill some time at the wedding next door. It was only a few minutes later when we were politely asked to wait for our cab outside.
Monday, June 14... Breakdancing mommas
The next weekend I made a spontaneous trip home to Sugar Land. It was a humidity fest, kid-packed family extravaganza. I even turned my party crashing record around by making an unexpected appearance at Oliver's 2nd birthday. I have the best family on the planet and the trip went entirely too quickly. On the way home, I was squashed into the tiniest, middle seat in the history of coach. To distract me from the awkwardness of being three inches from a stranger in all directions, I was killing time by reviewing sweepstakes entries for a Cheerios promotion. As I read one Nebraska woman’s entry about her neighborhood breakdancing club, I could feel the eavesdropping eyes of the guy next to me. He had some boring, but respectable job in oil lubricants that I felt obligated to ask him about. Then, I had to tell him that I get paid to sell cereal to 40 something hip hop moms.
Sunday, June 20… The kicker
I started feeling queasy Saturday evening. Pete was off at Moby Dick Fantasy Camp and I was scheduled to fly out to Chicago the next day. I woke up a little sickly, but decided that I felt good enough to travel so I headed to the airport. I sat at the gate and the nausea continued to ebb and flow. I put my head as close as I could to my knees without calling attention to myself. When they started boarding, I decided that my strategy would be to let everyone get on the plane and then I would walk up last. As I handed the attendant my ticket, the room began to spin. It got really quiet and everything began to look like a pointillism painting. I felt like I was yelling, but in reality I probably just whispered that I needed help. Then I was on the ground. Every pore on my body opened up and I started sweating. I could hear the woman talking to me, but I couldn’t answer. I was horrified and nauseous and scared all in one breath. I could hear them calling the medics and feel her tying my hair back. Then suddenly, I found myself being directed onto the plane, in my seat, and on the way to Chicago. I suppose passing out in the gateway is not grounds for pulling someone off a flight. As soon as I sat down, I passed out and slept the entire two-hour trip. I was terrified that it would happen again when I stood up. But, somehow I made it to a cab and to my hotel. In case you're wondering, my stomach made a full recovery in Chicago. However, my pride is still healing.
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Good Life
I’m a goal-setting type of gal. My latest? A marathon. I've wanted to run one since I watched my dad accomplish the seemingly impossible feat somewhere circa 2000. Now that I live in New York, a city very proud of its own 26.2 mile course, I’m even more motivated to complete the challenge. I'm in love with the idea of a marathon -- the self-discipline of training, the relationship you build with your body, and the badge of honor of crossing the finish line. I started training about 8 weeks ago. My last long run was 12 miles. Next week -- 14. The night before a run I get a knot in my stomach that I won’t be able to make it. But, each time the hypnotic sound of my feet against the pavement clears my head and reminds me what I love about running. Most people don’t understand why anyone would want to run a marathon.
I run...
because I don’t have a runner's body.
because it makes me appreciate dawn.
because it makes me like my legs.
because it’s hard.
so I can drink beer and eat French toast afterward.
because if I can make it through 26.2 miles, everything else will seem easy.
I run...
because I don’t have a runner's body.
because it makes me appreciate dawn.
because it makes me like my legs.
because it’s hard.
so I can drink beer and eat French toast afterward.
because if I can make it through 26.2 miles, everything else will seem easy.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tardy for the Party
The to-do list has been a bit out of control for the last six months. And, blogging, or even constructing complete sentences, was pushed to the bottom of it. Now that the list is getting shorter, my stomach ulcer is healing, and my sanity is returning, I think it’s time to spend some quality time with LATC. Here’s what I’ve been up to while I’ve been away:
December
For kicks, I just reread the entries I wrote December 08. I think my post about boredom may have upset the universe because the story this past December is a much different one. The pace at work reached epic levels and boredom vanished from my vocabulary. It was the start of a very painful few months. I broke away for a couple of weeks at the end of it to visit Texas. As always, it was filled with good wine and even better company. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip.
January
Once vacation ended, I was sucked back into the cereal matrix. I traveled back and forth to Minneapolis where it was equally as cold and stormy as NYC. I shot a commercial in New Jersey, was subjected to days upon days of budget meetings, and then my boss resigned. All hell began to break loose.
February
Life was covered in salt in February. Work continued to accelerate at an unbearable pace. The miserable weather didn’t bother me as much as being holed up in my cubicle, Minneapolis conference rooms, or dimly lit focus group observation suites. I became a miserable person. Saatchi attempted to make me slightly less miserable by promoting me and giving me an office. This worked for a little bit, but I was still working entirely too many hours to feel human. I broke away when I could to do things like visit the Bronx Museum of Art with K. Pete and I began planning a West Coast road trip. February may be the shortest month of the year, but this one sure felt long.
March
The snow didn’t stop in March. I found myself on two new business pitches in addition to my Cheerios responsibilities. I resented the people who I saw leaving at 6pm. I bonded with the late night cleaning crew. I began to hate my job. My projects felt like they were stalling and more people from the team were resigning. I had to go to the dentist. He told me I grind my teeth. I told him that if he were me, he might consider grinding his teeth too.
Then my vacation arrived.
Ten glorious days with my favorite person. People looked at us like were crazy when we told them our plans. Some of the crazy looks were “You are going to spend ten days in a car together?” Most were “You don’t have any set plans?” Budget lent us a Ford Focus, we had a map, and we knew we needed to be in Phoenix by Friday afternoon. Otherwise, it was the two of us and the open road. We saw nearly the entire Pacific coastline. There was an homage to the Goonies, some wine in the Willamette Valley, and the best ocean sunsets that I’ve ever seen. The Grand Canyon was breathtaking. A few days with my family came in perfect timing. We went to the San Diego Zoo and the Heart Castle. We had dinner with Meredith in San Francisco. In the end, it was the best 3,600 mile escape I could have ever dreamed of.
April
When I returned to reality, it was a little less painful than when I had left it. I wasn’t sure at first if things were getting better or if I was still working off my vacation high. My projects had found a forward trajectory and my workload began to ease up. I took K to a Yankee’s game at the new stadium. I began training for an 18-mile race in the fall. We shot four documentaries with an Academy Award-nominated director. You can check out all of the work at Cheerios.com/love beginning in June. This campaign has been my life since last summer and to see it come to life was an out-of-body experience. The days on set were long, but inspiring. It reminded me why I love what I do. It also punctuated what smart, kind people I work with and how much they believe in me. To even be on the periphery of such talent and experience has been an honor.
A few days after we wrapped the shoot, Pete and I celebrated our first anniversary. Looking back at old blog entries reminds me of how much fun we’ve had this year. He is such a thoughtful and generous person. I’m so lucky to have him in my life.
May (so far)
I forgot to mention that sometime in March I signed a lease on my own studio apartment! It’s about six blocks from my old place, so I assumed moving would be a cinch. Silly me. Fortunately, Pete was around to tell me to simmer when my crazy level got too high. It makes my heart flutter to think about how fantastic he was that day. I kid you not – he even fixed the mover’s stalled truck MacGruber-style. Add installing my air conditioner, assembling my new Ikea furniture, protecting me from the sketchy cable installation guys, and doing some serious reconstructive surgery on my bed’s box spring – I owe him my spare kidney.
Did I mention that I’m in love with my new apartment? Oh, let me count the ways…
It has an amazing kitchen.
It has beautiful floors.
My neighbors are great.
It’s on an idyllic street.
AND I don’t have to share it!
After my move, with a looming campaign launch and boxes galore, I wasn’t surprised that I began to feel totally drained. Frankly, I had been exhausted for six months now. When Alison (my creative director) called my office to tell me that I didn’t look so hot, it sunk in that I didn’t feel so hot either. A few hours later, the doctor made a funny face when she looked at my throat. She handed me a prescription for antibiotics and sent me to the lab to have my spleen, liver and thyroid checked. Yikes.
I spent a couple of days taking conference calls from bed, finished the course of antibiotics and immediately felt like a million bucks. My spleen turns out to be OK after all. And, it’s a good thing because we are now days away from launching the biggest, most integrated campaign I’ve ever been a part of. I don’t expect life to slow down after the launch. But, hopefully I will return to an existence where leaving at 6pm is OK and writing in your blog happens more than twice a year.
December
For kicks, I just reread the entries I wrote December 08. I think my post about boredom may have upset the universe because the story this past December is a much different one. The pace at work reached epic levels and boredom vanished from my vocabulary. It was the start of a very painful few months. I broke away for a couple of weeks at the end of it to visit Texas. As always, it was filled with good wine and even better company. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip.
January
Once vacation ended, I was sucked back into the cereal matrix. I traveled back and forth to Minneapolis where it was equally as cold and stormy as NYC. I shot a commercial in New Jersey, was subjected to days upon days of budget meetings, and then my boss resigned. All hell began to break loose.
February
Life was covered in salt in February. Work continued to accelerate at an unbearable pace. The miserable weather didn’t bother me as much as being holed up in my cubicle, Minneapolis conference rooms, or dimly lit focus group observation suites. I became a miserable person. Saatchi attempted to make me slightly less miserable by promoting me and giving me an office. This worked for a little bit, but I was still working entirely too many hours to feel human. I broke away when I could to do things like visit the Bronx Museum of Art with K. Pete and I began planning a West Coast road trip. February may be the shortest month of the year, but this one sure felt long.
March
The snow didn’t stop in March. I found myself on two new business pitches in addition to my Cheerios responsibilities. I resented the people who I saw leaving at 6pm. I bonded with the late night cleaning crew. I began to hate my job. My projects felt like they were stalling and more people from the team were resigning. I had to go to the dentist. He told me I grind my teeth. I told him that if he were me, he might consider grinding his teeth too.
Then my vacation arrived.
Ten glorious days with my favorite person. People looked at us like were crazy when we told them our plans. Some of the crazy looks were “You are going to spend ten days in a car together?” Most were “You don’t have any set plans?” Budget lent us a Ford Focus, we had a map, and we knew we needed to be in Phoenix by Friday afternoon. Otherwise, it was the two of us and the open road. We saw nearly the entire Pacific coastline. There was an homage to the Goonies, some wine in the Willamette Valley, and the best ocean sunsets that I’ve ever seen. The Grand Canyon was breathtaking. A few days with my family came in perfect timing. We went to the San Diego Zoo and the Heart Castle. We had dinner with Meredith in San Francisco. In the end, it was the best 3,600 mile escape I could have ever dreamed of.
April
When I returned to reality, it was a little less painful than when I had left it. I wasn’t sure at first if things were getting better or if I was still working off my vacation high. My projects had found a forward trajectory and my workload began to ease up. I took K to a Yankee’s game at the new stadium. I began training for an 18-mile race in the fall. We shot four documentaries with an Academy Award-nominated director. You can check out all of the work at Cheerios.com/love beginning in June. This campaign has been my life since last summer and to see it come to life was an out-of-body experience. The days on set were long, but inspiring. It reminded me why I love what I do. It also punctuated what smart, kind people I work with and how much they believe in me. To even be on the periphery of such talent and experience has been an honor.
A few days after we wrapped the shoot, Pete and I celebrated our first anniversary. Looking back at old blog entries reminds me of how much fun we’ve had this year. He is such a thoughtful and generous person. I’m so lucky to have him in my life.
May (so far)
I forgot to mention that sometime in March I signed a lease on my own studio apartment! It’s about six blocks from my old place, so I assumed moving would be a cinch. Silly me. Fortunately, Pete was around to tell me to simmer when my crazy level got too high. It makes my heart flutter to think about how fantastic he was that day. I kid you not – he even fixed the mover’s stalled truck MacGruber-style. Add installing my air conditioner, assembling my new Ikea furniture, protecting me from the sketchy cable installation guys, and doing some serious reconstructive surgery on my bed’s box spring – I owe him my spare kidney.
Did I mention that I’m in love with my new apartment? Oh, let me count the ways…
It has an amazing kitchen.
It has beautiful floors.
My neighbors are great.
It’s on an idyllic street.
AND I don’t have to share it!
After my move, with a looming campaign launch and boxes galore, I wasn’t surprised that I began to feel totally drained. Frankly, I had been exhausted for six months now. When Alison (my creative director) called my office to tell me that I didn’t look so hot, it sunk in that I didn’t feel so hot either. A few hours later, the doctor made a funny face when she looked at my throat. She handed me a prescription for antibiotics and sent me to the lab to have my spleen, liver and thyroid checked. Yikes.
I spent a couple of days taking conference calls from bed, finished the course of antibiotics and immediately felt like a million bucks. My spleen turns out to be OK after all. And, it’s a good thing because we are now days away from launching the biggest, most integrated campaign I’ve ever been a part of. I don’t expect life to slow down after the launch. But, hopefully I will return to an existence where leaving at 6pm is OK and writing in your blog happens more than twice a year.
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