31 March 2008
Stop me if you've heard this
But this is going to be another big week for me.
And I think I am getting sick.
Cool.
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30 March 2008
Things I'm tired of ...
This list includes the following:
People who, when they find out I am trying to leave town, tell me I just can't leave.
Yeah? Why's that? You know what's best for me how?
I mean, today's perps are lovely people and I love them dearly. But come on. Once in a lifetime opportunities don't come around often. So you have to jump on them.
Capiche?
People who, when they find out I am trying to leave town, tell me I just can't leave.
Yeah? Why's that? You know what's best for me how?
I mean, today's perps are lovely people and I love them dearly. But come on. Once in a lifetime opportunities don't come around often. So you have to jump on them.
Capiche?
Isn't it fitting ...
So I was just thinking how right it feels that Jack Black and Jack White are such wildly different people. Makes you think there's order in this world.
29 March 2008
I heart Sweet Leaf tea
Wow. Thanks BlackBerry for focusing in on the window controls of my truck.
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28 March 2008
Worst kept secret ever:
I spent all day Wednesday at an epicenter for great advertising.
Speaking of it purely as a field trip, if you will, it was fantastic. I happen to be listening to Soul Singing from the Black Crowes right this second, but that's exactly what the field trip did. I'd been down. Cascading in blue without a sound. Then I traded my black feathers for a crown. You know how it goes.
OK, I guess I wasn't down. I just wasn't totally, completely sure. I'd worked in one honest to goodness, real ad agency in my life. (and a handful of grade A slapdick operations, which bored me to tears and sucked the life out of my soul) And I loved being at the "real" agency. But I had to wonder. How much of that was the people? And the atmosphere? And the clients I was blessed to work with?
I spent Wednesday in my element. Even more than I was at aforementioned "real" agency. It was awesome. It was fantastically fulfilling and envigorating. And, hopefully, profitable. If I never hear another word from them, Wednesday was a resounding success.
They do some great work. Beyond that, they have some brilliant ideas in the works.
And then, there's this douchbaggery. Thanks, assholes for making me so proud of my industry.
You're the ad people Bill Hicks was talking to.
Speaking of it purely as a field trip, if you will, it was fantastic. I happen to be listening to Soul Singing from the Black Crowes right this second, but that's exactly what the field trip did. I'd been down. Cascading in blue without a sound. Then I traded my black feathers for a crown. You know how it goes.
OK, I guess I wasn't down. I just wasn't totally, completely sure. I'd worked in one honest to goodness, real ad agency in my life. (and a handful of grade A slapdick operations, which bored me to tears and sucked the life out of my soul) And I loved being at the "real" agency. But I had to wonder. How much of that was the people? And the atmosphere? And the clients I was blessed to work with?
I spent Wednesday in my element. Even more than I was at aforementioned "real" agency. It was awesome. It was fantastically fulfilling and envigorating. And, hopefully, profitable. If I never hear another word from them, Wednesday was a resounding success.
They do some great work. Beyond that, they have some brilliant ideas in the works.
And then, there's this douchbaggery. Thanks, assholes for making me so proud of my industry.
You're the ad people Bill Hicks was talking to.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
So I'm finding the two disc Tales From New York set from Simon and Garfunkel to be the perfect waiting for the biggest news ever music. Yes, that is just dripping in irony.
But the songs are soothing. Catchy. Reminds me of my mom's burnt orange 1979 Mercury Cougar. With the vinyl seats. What a cruddy car that was.
It also reminds me of the time I surprised someone with badass Paul Simon tickets in San Antonio. I went thinking I was doing good boyfriend duty and I would gut it out. I left there a huge Paul Simon fan. That little guy can write some songs. Lots of them. That are both poppy and soulful. Genuine.
Richmond, my nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
Which is odd, because the origin of the phrase, "The eyes of Texas are upon you" begins in Virginia. When post Civil War General Lee, (apparently, referred to just as Lee by Virginians) was president of what is now Washington and Lee, he would close his speeches with "Gentlemen, the eyes of the south are upon you." One of those gentlemen became president of UT when he grew up and he bastardized the phrase.
Anyway, it seems thinking about women from my past makes waiting easier. How odd. I hope this wait ends before I compose a treatise on my marriage.
edit: Maybe this isn't the right time for Bridge Over Troubled Waters. Oy.
Or I Am A Rock, either.
Wait, this could be the worst possible music for this.
But the songs are soothing. Catchy. Reminds me of my mom's burnt orange 1979 Mercury Cougar. With the vinyl seats. What a cruddy car that was.
It also reminds me of the time I surprised someone with badass Paul Simon tickets in San Antonio. I went thinking I was doing good boyfriend duty and I would gut it out. I left there a huge Paul Simon fan. That little guy can write some songs. Lots of them. That are both poppy and soulful. Genuine.
Richmond, my nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
Which is odd, because the origin of the phrase, "The eyes of Texas are upon you" begins in Virginia. When post Civil War General Lee, (apparently, referred to just as Lee by Virginians) was president of what is now Washington and Lee, he would close his speeches with "Gentlemen, the eyes of the south are upon you." One of those gentlemen became president of UT when he grew up and he bastardized the phrase.
Anyway, it seems thinking about women from my past makes waiting easier. How odd. I hope this wait ends before I compose a treatise on my marriage.
edit: Maybe this isn't the right time for Bridge Over Troubled Waters. Oy.
Or I Am A Rock, either.
Wait, this could be the worst possible music for this.
Willie? How are you so smart?
It’s easy to be overwhelmed by our desires for material things, but the fact is, most of us know what we truly value. Sometimes we just need a little reminder.
Of course, not everyone values the same things.
Not too long ago, my friend Ray Price called me up to tell me there was one thing he’d learned in life.
“What is it?” I asked.
And he said, “Money makes women horny.”
The Tao of Willie
A Guide to the Happiness in Your Heart,
by Willie Nelson, with Turk Pipkin
Of course, not everyone values the same things.
Not too long ago, my friend Ray Price called me up to tell me there was one thing he’d learned in life.
“What is it?” I asked.
And he said, “Money makes women horny.”
The Tao of Willie
A Guide to the Happiness in Your Heart,
by Willie Nelson, with Turk Pipkin
Pandering
Follow along with me as we crank up the good vibes.
Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.
I am the worst waiter ever.
Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.
I am the worst waiter ever.
27 March 2008
Over thinking
I'm thinking Willie Nelson's Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground is the first song ever written about a man loving a woman with ADHD.
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Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
26 March 2008
25 March 2008
You can learn a lot from walls
Austin has a fucking "frog" on a wall. Richmond? Thomas Jefferson.
Advantage: Richmond
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Night terrors
In case you missed it, this art installation hangs under a bridge on the Interstate. I was afoot, and rounded a corner, and here it was ... and it was kind of ... well. "Terrifying" might not be the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.
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Is it bad
that I am stuck behind a huge funeral on the way to the airport?
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Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
What do the Yankees and the Indians have in common?
They've both spent a billion dollars since their last World Series title.
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Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Unexpected
Lots of unexpected finds today.
1. If you're not on anywhere.fm you should be. You can upload all your non-DRMed music to their servers. Then, you can access your entire music library through their flash-based player at any computer with an internet connection.
They also have some free tunes on there. Which is where I stumbled onto some totally popped out group called busbee and a track called "A Little Bit." Totally not my style, but I must have listened to it 20 times today. Then I bought it. Unexpected.
2. I got news today I have been waiting a month for. I got it when I wasn't supposed to. A key player/news bearer is on vacation this week. I resigned myself to not hearing anything and pushed it out of my mind. And then I got an e-mail. I did a double take. I actually thought to myself, "This looks like the type of message that would contain the big news."
Pause.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! IT IS WHAT I THINK IT IS!"
I'm not going to jinx it, so I'll just say I am flying from Austin to Memphis, then from Memphis to Richmond, Virginia later today on a plane, that when Google image searched, yields the following result:
All sorts of unexpected there. I also get to fly from Chicago to Austin on the same model of plane Wednesday night. Spinning the gun barrel three times in this fiery game of gravity roulette.
3. Two hours and forty-two minutes later, and I made it the two miles to my driveway. Thank you, very much.
PS. Big hill by my house? Suck me, beautiful.
1. If you're not on anywhere.fm you should be. You can upload all your non-DRMed music to their servers. Then, you can access your entire music library through their flash-based player at any computer with an internet connection.
They also have some free tunes on there. Which is where I stumbled onto some totally popped out group called busbee and a track called "A Little Bit." Totally not my style, but I must have listened to it 20 times today. Then I bought it. Unexpected.
2. I got news today I have been waiting a month for. I got it when I wasn't supposed to. A key player/news bearer is on vacation this week. I resigned myself to not hearing anything and pushed it out of my mind. And then I got an e-mail. I did a double take. I actually thought to myself, "This looks like the type of message that would contain the big news."
Pause.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! IT IS WHAT I THINK IT IS!"
I'm not going to jinx it, so I'll just say I am flying from Austin to Memphis, then from Memphis to Richmond, Virginia later today on a plane, that when Google image searched, yields the following result:
All sorts of unexpected there. I also get to fly from Chicago to Austin on the same model of plane Wednesday night. Spinning the gun barrel three times in this fiery game of gravity roulette.
3. Two hours and forty-two minutes later, and I made it the two miles to my driveway. Thank you, very much.
PS. Big hill by my house? Suck me, beautiful.
24 March 2008
Anyone else seen Into the Wild?
I think I am living it.
Happiness only real when shared.
Red was here.
Rosebud.
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Monumental dumbass
Know that giant hill by my house? The steep one? I do. I just ran out of gas at the bottom of it. Fuck.
Yeah. Thanks for those bright lights, asshole.
And the horn.
So I called American Express roadside service. I think I have at least 45 more minutes here. Getting buzzed by traffic. Cool. Everyone is so nice and speedy. Which is quite unlike this stretch of road.
Also, the AMEX number? 1 800 333 AMEX. Oops. I have a blackberry. So the numbers and letters aren't the same. After 3 stabs at it, I called several people. None answered.
If you're one of them, I'm not answering your calls for a while. Just in case you're on the side of the road at night in a jet black pickup.
So I called the one person I knew who would answer at 9 PM. Dad. And then I explained to him that numbers had letters on them. Then he gave me 4 possibilities for the numbers.
Oy.
Not like I have anything to do right now. Oh yeah. I have to pack for the most important interviews of my life. Oh yeah. There's that.
Fuck.
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Yeah. Thanks for those bright lights, asshole.
And the horn.
So I called American Express roadside service. I think I have at least 45 more minutes here. Getting buzzed by traffic. Cool. Everyone is so nice and speedy. Which is quite unlike this stretch of road.
Also, the AMEX number? 1 800 333 AMEX. Oops. I have a blackberry. So the numbers and letters aren't the same. After 3 stabs at it, I called several people. None answered.
If you're one of them, I'm not answering your calls for a while. Just in case you're on the side of the road at night in a jet black pickup.
So I called the one person I knew who would answer at 9 PM. Dad. And then I explained to him that numbers had letters on them. Then he gave me 4 possibilities for the numbers.
Oy.
Not like I have anything to do right now. Oh yeah. I have to pack for the most important interviews of my life. Oh yeah. There's that.
Fuck.
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23 March 2008
It's an important question to answer ...
"holy long title, batman."
-- someone on seeing my new blog address
"bookmark it."
-- me
Well, it's a question I generally ask myself all the time. I think it's important to pause in your life and think, "How the fuck did I get here?" I mean. It can be rhetorical. Sometimes, I don't really want to answer. Sometimes, I'm unable to actually answer how the fuck I got there. Here. Whichever.
And, not only is it not always about geography, but, it's not always a bad thing. Growing up in the middle of nowhere, you're not really supposed to go anywhere. So when I find myself at the Rose Bowl or Times Square or the College World Series or on the Austin City Limits stage or in a church pew with the governor, I often think, "How the fuck did I get here?"
Yeah, I drop thought f-bombs in church. Don't you?
Kris Kristofferson says, "Why me, lord? What have I ever done? To deserve even one of the blessings you've shown."
And I say, "How the fuck did I get here?"
Which is totally different from the "How the fuck did I get here?" times. Like when I found myself at an A&M-OU football game. Rooting for a giant meteor. Or an Old Testament smiting.
So internetically speaking, how the F did I get here?
Well, I started a blog in 2003. Only problem being it was on a site named after me. And, sometimes, I don't always want all my opinions and rants associated with my name. (read: during a job search)
So, the first of the year, I moved it to my MySpace page. Two problems with that:
1. MySpace sucks. Seriously, it's the KMart of websites. Only shittier.
2. I realized my dad's coworkers don't really need to see all the times I (usually drunkenly) whine like a 12 year old girl.
So, that's probably the easiest how the F did I get here that I've ever answered.
-- someone on seeing my new blog address
"bookmark it."
-- me
Well, it's a question I generally ask myself all the time. I think it's important to pause in your life and think, "How the fuck did I get here?" I mean. It can be rhetorical. Sometimes, I don't really want to answer. Sometimes, I'm unable to actually answer how the fuck I got there. Here. Whichever.
And, not only is it not always about geography, but, it's not always a bad thing. Growing up in the middle of nowhere, you're not really supposed to go anywhere. So when I find myself at the Rose Bowl or Times Square or the College World Series or on the Austin City Limits stage or in a church pew with the governor, I often think, "How the fuck did I get here?"
Yeah, I drop thought f-bombs in church. Don't you?
Kris Kristofferson says, "Why me, lord? What have I ever done? To deserve even one of the blessings you've shown."
And I say, "How the fuck did I get here?"
Which is totally different from the "How the fuck did I get here?" times. Like when I found myself at an A&M-OU football game. Rooting for a giant meteor. Or an Old Testament smiting.
So internetically speaking, how the F did I get here?
Well, I started a blog in 2003. Only problem being it was on a site named after me. And, sometimes, I don't always want all my opinions and rants associated with my name. (read: during a job search)
So, the first of the year, I moved it to my MySpace page. Two problems with that:
1. MySpace sucks. Seriously, it's the KMart of websites. Only shittier.
2. I realized my dad's coworkers don't really need to see all the times I (usually drunkenly) whine like a 12 year old girl.
So, that's probably the easiest how the F did I get here that I've ever answered.
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