awww man,
i knew this day would come.
where i would have to publicly concede defeat and say:
i miss my baby.
all of him.
his arms
his voice
his cheeky grin
all of it.
he's white water rafting this weekend. the complete antithesis to all things brown.
he loves this rush of adrenalin that accompanies death defying activities
and i, i love him.
so hopefully he's having a great time - im sure he is
and please oh please let him come back to me in one piece
after all, a half assed boyfriend is not as much fun as a full fledged one.
last night was tasha's birthday soiree
laid back. mellow. and yummy.
the girls were all present in fine form
and as always they were a pleasure to hang with.
it was nice having R there - for myself
and she had a good time as well - thankfully
next weekend promises to be craaaazy
s's wedding
besharam
s's reception
and a couple days to recuperate
oh shizat.
next week is a short week
and so is the following one.
summer hours rock.
--
now, i must return to writing something
anything actually
i seem to be fighting the godzilla of all blocks
perseverance is what i need.
anyone got some?
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Excavating Humanity.
Or the lack thereof.
It’s ironic how the perception you have of people can change in an instant. All it takes is one look, one misspoken phrase, one wayward email to turn that switch off and drop the perp into a vat of sweltering hate. It’s barely 9 am and I’m in the throes of banishing yet another colleague into that bottomless pit of scorn.
One of our business peeps decided that it was socially acceptable to send out an email berating the creative teams for their lack of professional attire at client meetings. Now this might seem kosher with those of you who exist in the world of suits, day timers and conferences – but, it’s different when you’re nothing but a lowly creative. You see, we work insane hours. Our meetings are usually held amongst ourselves and our CD. We dress comfortably because with comfort comes a certain sense of uninhibited thinking. We create ways to inspire ourselves be it childish games, ringing cat calls, loud tunes, whatever gets the juices flowing. So yea, we dress down. I don’t think I’ve worn a pair of black pants to work in months. And I like it that way. I like rocking flip flops and beat up tee’s – it’s the ad game folks – get with it or get out of it.
I suppose the more annoying reason regarding this email is the sheer fact that we don’t get told that we have a ‘client’ meeting until a few hours before its scheduled. So what? Are we supposed to walk with a suit in our bag? And is it really necessary for us to look spic and span when we’re just there to present our ideas? After all, that is what they pay us for. Ideas. Nothing more than idea makers – knowledge architects if you must. What we look like – shouldn’t matter so bloody much that you get your knickers in a knot! I mean yes – we have to look presentable – which we do – boho chic or not – but no jeans? No shorts? No tee’s? well then. I guess I’m gonna need an allowance to buy myself an alternative “stay at work” wardrobe chock full of monkey suits and bow ties.
Grrrr.
Sometimes the divide is ginormous (bigger than huge) and cavernous and no amount of niceness seems to fill it permanently.
I feel like a rat in a lab. Do this. Do that. Change this. Fix that. And voila – she’s nothing like she used to be.
Perfect.
It’s ironic how the perception you have of people can change in an instant. All it takes is one look, one misspoken phrase, one wayward email to turn that switch off and drop the perp into a vat of sweltering hate. It’s barely 9 am and I’m in the throes of banishing yet another colleague into that bottomless pit of scorn.
One of our business peeps decided that it was socially acceptable to send out an email berating the creative teams for their lack of professional attire at client meetings. Now this might seem kosher with those of you who exist in the world of suits, day timers and conferences – but, it’s different when you’re nothing but a lowly creative. You see, we work insane hours. Our meetings are usually held amongst ourselves and our CD. We dress comfortably because with comfort comes a certain sense of uninhibited thinking. We create ways to inspire ourselves be it childish games, ringing cat calls, loud tunes, whatever gets the juices flowing. So yea, we dress down. I don’t think I’ve worn a pair of black pants to work in months. And I like it that way. I like rocking flip flops and beat up tee’s – it’s the ad game folks – get with it or get out of it.
I suppose the more annoying reason regarding this email is the sheer fact that we don’t get told that we have a ‘client’ meeting until a few hours before its scheduled. So what? Are we supposed to walk with a suit in our bag? And is it really necessary for us to look spic and span when we’re just there to present our ideas? After all, that is what they pay us for. Ideas. Nothing more than idea makers – knowledge architects if you must. What we look like – shouldn’t matter so bloody much that you get your knickers in a knot! I mean yes – we have to look presentable – which we do – boho chic or not – but no jeans? No shorts? No tee’s? well then. I guess I’m gonna need an allowance to buy myself an alternative “stay at work” wardrobe chock full of monkey suits and bow ties.
Grrrr.
Sometimes the divide is ginormous (bigger than huge) and cavernous and no amount of niceness seems to fill it permanently.
I feel like a rat in a lab. Do this. Do that. Change this. Fix that. And voila – she’s nothing like she used to be.
Perfect.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Skeletal Posing
Today, I have the ghastly pleasure of enduring an ultra-sound. A special imaging opportunity for my over-active thyroid. Say cheese for your 15 seconds of fame beyotch– bleh. The over-active part was an original add-in. I’m not sure if its over-reacting but, I assume that it would. After all, everything about me and my life is reactionary – melodramatically so. My body, im assuming, is no different.
The weekend was bliss.
Monday – the initiation of misery. Everything is horribly wrong today. From the moment I woke up, to the obviously abnormal dude who randomly flexed his whistling skills - loud and clear (I could hear him through janet belting out a tune on my ipod) to the moment when he exited the train after touching me and waving goodbye. Strange. He reminded me of that hilarious guy from Office Space. The one who never understood he had been fired - regardless of the countless clues. This is just another thing I love about the Tdot. The crazies that ride the subway along side the obviously anti-social ones (with an ipod and dark givenchy shades – a weekend score- what else could you call me?).
And now – radio drama. Not particularly interesting drama. After all, with the client in question there’s nothing even remotely interesting that gets bought. A curse or an inherent foible? I’m not sure. But most definitely a psychosis of some sort.
But before the manifestation of bad scripts – I must confront my fear of hospitals – again. After the bruise the resembled the Indian peninsula (my last blood visit) – I am rightfully perturbed. And anxious. Did I mention apprehensive? Oh. I meant, scared shitless. Yes I know, it won’t be painful. But I’m sure to feel slightly violated – you can never guarantee a perfect pose with a skeletal shot – I wonder if I can ask for proofs and retakes.
Note to self: buy R a card. My little one is testing her wings in another continent. She leaves tonight. God bless the people that have to put up and work through her jitters. I’m sure Dad’s expecting some kind of request for payment from my currently ignorant Aunties. Having said that, she will be missed. But a month – pshhh! – 30 days will fly by. I’m certain of it.
I’m off in the hopes of meeting more Office Space characters. After all, today feels like it’s my lucky day. Yup, all mine.
:(
The weekend was bliss.
Monday – the initiation of misery. Everything is horribly wrong today. From the moment I woke up, to the obviously abnormal dude who randomly flexed his whistling skills - loud and clear (I could hear him through janet belting out a tune on my ipod) to the moment when he exited the train after touching me and waving goodbye. Strange. He reminded me of that hilarious guy from Office Space. The one who never understood he had been fired - regardless of the countless clues. This is just another thing I love about the Tdot. The crazies that ride the subway along side the obviously anti-social ones (with an ipod and dark givenchy shades – a weekend score- what else could you call me?).
And now – radio drama. Not particularly interesting drama. After all, with the client in question there’s nothing even remotely interesting that gets bought. A curse or an inherent foible? I’m not sure. But most definitely a psychosis of some sort.
But before the manifestation of bad scripts – I must confront my fear of hospitals – again. After the bruise the resembled the Indian peninsula (my last blood visit) – I am rightfully perturbed. And anxious. Did I mention apprehensive? Oh. I meant, scared shitless. Yes I know, it won’t be painful. But I’m sure to feel slightly violated – you can never guarantee a perfect pose with a skeletal shot – I wonder if I can ask for proofs and retakes.
Note to self: buy R a card. My little one is testing her wings in another continent. She leaves tonight. God bless the people that have to put up and work through her jitters. I’m sure Dad’s expecting some kind of request for payment from my currently ignorant Aunties. Having said that, she will be missed. But a month – pshhh! – 30 days will fly by. I’m certain of it.
I’m off in the hopes of meeting more Office Space characters. After all, today feels like it’s my lucky day. Yup, all mine.
:(
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Trustworthy rhetoric
Books that I’m itching to visually assault:
Freedom Song – Amit Chaudhari
Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie (my most loyal concubine)
A Mystic Masseur – VS Naipaul
Half a Life – VS Naipaul
Vernon God Little – DBC Pierre
Life of Pi – Yann Martel
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
The Known World – Edward P Jones
The Book of Secrets – MG Vassanji
Polished Hoe – Austin Clarke
I’ve vowed to put my meager earnings towards purchasing a book a cheque. After all, vernacular seems to be the only entity I can truly trust. Especially these days. When people never fail to disappoint, I’m constantly wishing that I could just turn the page and move on. Inhale. Exhale. Walk out.
More to follow.
Freedom Song – Amit Chaudhari
Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie (my most loyal concubine)
A Mystic Masseur – VS Naipaul
Half a Life – VS Naipaul
Vernon God Little – DBC Pierre
Life of Pi – Yann Martel
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
The Known World – Edward P Jones
The Book of Secrets – MG Vassanji
Polished Hoe – Austin Clarke
I’ve vowed to put my meager earnings towards purchasing a book a cheque. After all, vernacular seems to be the only entity I can truly trust. Especially these days. When people never fail to disappoint, I’m constantly wishing that I could just turn the page and move on. Inhale. Exhale. Walk out.
More to follow.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Twitching eyeballs
Never make for great meetings.
On the regular at least.
However, our meeting with our brand new client went fabulous!
I love clients that actually get the value of great advertising. People who look at ads the way they look at art in motion – its awfully endearing. Especially when you know the flip side of that coin – clients who view advertising as nothing more than a vehicle of obligation. They don’t get the ideas, they don’t understand the target and yet, they almost always feel that their bad ad – is the way to go.
Tonight promises to be entertaining. A bunch of like-minded sistrens are joining in support of besharam – a once a month south asian extravaganza of great fusion music and cheap booze. Nothing says Indian like a bunch of hidras (asexual people oftentimes predominantly XY looking folks dressed as females) shakin their groove thang to bollywood ballads. The high point: definitely catching up with those like minded individuals. They’ve been on far reaching adventures (a la Mexico) and im ready to get the inside scoop.
Saturday promises to be relaxing. And since im sleeping over at M’s tonight, im pretty sure that by tomorrow evening im gonna be itching to go home – to my bed, my family and most of all my morose puppy.
Sunday – nothing but goodness – get my eyebrows done, do my nails, write some radio – oh yeah shit, ive gotta work.
Until then and maybe later – be blessed.
On the regular at least.
However, our meeting with our brand new client went fabulous!
I love clients that actually get the value of great advertising. People who look at ads the way they look at art in motion – its awfully endearing. Especially when you know the flip side of that coin – clients who view advertising as nothing more than a vehicle of obligation. They don’t get the ideas, they don’t understand the target and yet, they almost always feel that their bad ad – is the way to go.
Tonight promises to be entertaining. A bunch of like-minded sistrens are joining in support of besharam – a once a month south asian extravaganza of great fusion music and cheap booze. Nothing says Indian like a bunch of hidras (asexual people oftentimes predominantly XY looking folks dressed as females) shakin their groove thang to bollywood ballads. The high point: definitely catching up with those like minded individuals. They’ve been on far reaching adventures (a la Mexico) and im ready to get the inside scoop.
Saturday promises to be relaxing. And since im sleeping over at M’s tonight, im pretty sure that by tomorrow evening im gonna be itching to go home – to my bed, my family and most of all my morose puppy.
Sunday – nothing but goodness – get my eyebrows done, do my nails, write some radio – oh yeah shit, ive gotta work.
Until then and maybe later – be blessed.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
knackered. out. of. my. mind.
if Shemar Moore (those who know me, know the power of that name) was to inappropriately proposition me,
i would turn him down without even thinking about it.
that's how tired i am.
err, not to mention the fact that the only dude that turns my crank these days is M.
(phew~ nice save eh)
the last 48 hours went like this:
31 hours of work. actual work. (Monday: 7 - 10 = 15/ Tuesday: 6:45 - 10:45 =16)
4 hours of travel
3 hours of eating/showering/bathrooming
---
38
yup, which left me with 10 hours to sleep. read. listen to tunes. be inspired.
i.am.tired.people.
but i'll be fine with a couple more chugs of coffee..i meant JUGS.
and a few nic-sticks later - a 10am meeting.
cross your fingers peepz.
God Bless. (err me)
i would turn him down without even thinking about it.
that's how tired i am.
err, not to mention the fact that the only dude that turns my crank these days is M.
(phew~ nice save eh)
the last 48 hours went like this:
31 hours of work. actual work. (Monday: 7 - 10 = 15/ Tuesday: 6:45 - 10:45 =16)
4 hours of travel
3 hours of eating/showering/bathrooming
---
38
yup, which left me with 10 hours to sleep. read. listen to tunes. be inspired.
i.am.tired.people.
but i'll be fine with a couple more chugs of coffee..i meant JUGS.
and a few nic-sticks later - a 10am meeting.
cross your fingers peepz.
God Bless. (err me)
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