Today

"It was one of those perfect autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life."

P.D. James

How sweet it is

Hmm, really?



Celebrate good times, come on!



Ain't nothin' finer in the land...



Gameball goes to Knowshon. (Good work M-L!)



Coach kissing water girl. LOVE him!

Only in New York #3: How Lucky are we?!

Today, Lucky magazine had a shopping event, "First Dibs Friday at Lucky Shops." The event was held in Chelsea and offered promises of "up to 70% off your favorite brands," a "Lucky Shops swag bag worth $100+" and more. Intrigued, Bridgett, Bethany and I headed down during our lunch break to check it out.

Some of the more memorable moments include...

Snotty girl working at the Michael Kors table: "Ohmigosh, is your bag Prada?"
Jamie: "Um...no...it's from Target."
Snotty girl: "...Oh."

Designer jeans sales girl, helping a shopper: "Hey, do you think she's a 30 or a 31?"
Fabulously gay jeans sales guy, to shopper: "Turn around, let me see your butt."
[Girl turns around.]
Fabulous guy, without missing a beat: "31."

Very straight Starbucks guy handing out pumpkin spice lattes: "What a great event! They have some awesome deals here, don't they?"
Jamie: "Did they tell you to say that?"
Straight Starbucks guy: "Why do you say that, because I work at Starbucks?"

And in the cab ride home...

Cabdriver: "Where are you from?"
Bridgett, Bethany and Jamie: "Houston." "Seattle." "Atlanta."
Cabdriver: "England?"
Jamie: "No, Atlanta."
Bethany (bewildered by his friendliness): "Where are you from?"
Cabdriver: "Guess."
Bridgett, Bethany and Jamie: [ummm...?]
Cabdriver: "I will give you a hint! It's the top of the world!"
Jamie: "Um, the North Pole?"

BTW, the best thing in the Lucky Shops swag bag was Carolyn "Brooklyn" nail polish. Unless you count the plush turtle cell phone cover or the bright pink Wet & Wild blush stick.

Google Google

Today I got an email from my boss that our group will be attending a tour of Google here in New York. Curious as to where the Google office is, I habitually went to google.com and decided to Google Google. "Hey wait," I thought, "what happens when you Google Google?"

Well, you should try it. Oddly enough, google.com comes up as the first result. Isn't that what they call circular logic? I would imagine that one could go insane just clicking on the result for google.com every time they Googled Googled. Fortunately for me, though, I caught on to the tricky tricks of Google and did not click on result numero uno.

The next result is slightly more helpful - the Wikipedia (ps LOVE Wikipedia even more than Google) entry for Google. This article is full of fascinating information on Google, such as the fact that there were 15,916 employees at Google as of September 30 and that the hallways at the Googleplex are full of exercise balls. However, the Wikipedia article still did not have the information that set me on my quest in the first place - where Google's New York office is located.

I hit the Back button and was right back where I started...the Google homepage with a list of Google sites. I scrolled through my choices: Google Video, Google News, google.org ("the philanthropic arm of the company"), Google Image, Google Maps, Google Groups. All lovely information that I use all day, every day and am actually quite enamored with. But still no listing with Google's address.

Finally, after getting to the bottom of the page just past Google Code, I discovered what I was looking for - the "About Google" link at the bottom of the page (which is actually always at the bottom of google.com no matter what you Google). After some surfing through the "About Google" site, I discovered what I was looking for all along - a link entitled "Addresses."

In case you are curious, Google is located at 76 Ninth Ave. (Cross street 16th St. Thanks Google Maps!)

And that's what happens when you try to Google Google.

Amazing grace

"The gospel is that you are more wicked and flawed than you ever dared believe, and more loved and accepted than you ever dared hope..."

Tim Keller


I am Peter. I am stubborn and proud. I put my foot in my mouth. I say the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. I fly off the handle. I am Peter when I say I have the faith to walk on water, yet I am even more Peter when that faith subsides and I sink into the stormy waters of doubt. Sometimes I am like Peter in my strength, my courage, my boldness, but all too often, I am like Peter in my fear. I long to be the Peter who is called The Rock, the one on whom Christ built his church, but instead, I am the Peter who sleeps in the Garden, the Peter who denies my Savior in his greatest time of need.

I am David. So often, though, not the David that is seeking after God's own heart, the David that slew Goliath. I am the David who longs for Bathsheba; the David that lets my eyes wander to things that are not good for me and are not mine to take. I cover my sins to protect my own image...I am the David who killed Uriah out of fear and greed.

I am Moses. No, not the brave Moses who led the Israelites out of Egypt. I am the Moses who murdered an enemy and tried to bury him in the sand. I find myself not trusting what God is doing. I question his plan for me. I question his ability to work through my flaws. I am the Moses who is afraid to speak out because I might fail. And I am the Moses who blatantly disobeys God's instructions for me. I strike the rock when I know full well that God has commanded me to speak to it. I hear the words of the Lord, but I continue to go my own way.

I am Jacob, deceiving those around me to get what I want. I am Zechariah, questioning whether the promises of God will actually come true. I am Solomon, sucked into a world of fame and riches at the expense of honor and righteousness. I am Thomas, doubting that Christ is who he says he is. I am Lot's wife, so deathly afraid of what's to come ahead that I can't stop looking back at where I've been. And I am Judas, betraying my Savior for thirty silver coins.


But above all else, I am covered by grace. Grace that pardons my sin and redeems my soul. Grace that transforms my flaws into vessels for God's glory. Grace that frees me for freedom's sake. Grace that declares there is no condemnation. Grace that affirms that, despite my sin and flaws and mistakes and detours, I am a dearly beloved child of God. Grace that, when it's all said and done, saves a wretch like me.

Cooking skills not needed!

Lauren alerted me today to the following 'casting call' in one of our daily trade emails:


Casting Call: Lifetime Television is casting for a new pilot/series Club Gastronomique and is looking for 21 to 45 year old females who are in love with food. This documentary-type show will focus on an invitation-only culinary club and female participants will get to meet interesting people in New York City while dining at fantastic places. Cooking skills not needed! To audition send an email to Twinsworld1@aol.com and include your name, age, contact information, photo and a brief bio and why you're passionate about food.


Um, hello! First thought - sign me up. Below is my pitch for myself for Club Gastronomique...enjoy!


Hi –

It is with great enthusiasm that I am writing to inquire about auditioning for Club Gastronomique!

I am a 24-year old single gal living in Manhattan and working in advertising. I am originally from Atlanta, GA, where I grew up with a love for sweet tea, banana pudding, and all things fried, including but not limited to chicken, pickles and Oreos. I moved to New York a year and a half ago and have loved every single minute…I love the sights and sounds, I love the energy, I love the weather, and of course, I love the fabulous restaurants that are all around me.

I have been passionate about food my entire life, evidenced at an early age by my chubby 4th grade school photo. I love trying new things…I’m not picky at all (except for bell peppers. I hate bell peppers.), and I love seeing old foods come together in new ways. But food for me transcends just the tastes on my tongue…It’s a social experience, evidenced by a night out to my favorite Greek restaurant with friends. It’s an emotional experience, as shown by my uncanny ability to down an entire pint of Cherry Garcia after a bad break-up. And it’s a learning experience…especially here in New York City, where I can learn about all different cultures – from BBQ in Harlem to pasta in Brooklyn to the hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant on my block. Food teaches me new things, takes me new places, and makes my life much more enjoyable and interesting than it would be otherwise.

There is one hitch to my love affair with food, though…I hate to prepare it. ‘Cooking skills not needed!’ is the best part of the casting call below! While I like to blame my lack of cooking on my tiny apartment kitchen (-ette) in my apartment, the truth is I would rather dine out any day of the week than spend even one minute over a stove. After all, life is too short, right?!

I have attached a picture here for you as well. If you are looking for a 20-something girl in the city who LOVES food, I hope you will consider me!

Thanks!
Jamie Martin

Welcome to Atlanta

OK, OK, I've already heard it from several of you - I have failed at my '30 Blogs in 30 Days' undertaking. I was doing so well, too! But alas, I traveled home this weekend and completely forgot about my daily writing goal. Actually, I did remember one night while lying in bed at home, but I didn't think anyone would actually care enough to warrant me going down to my mom's office to blog in my pajamas at 1am.

So here we are, on Monday, October 22, with a 4-day hole in my daily blog initiative. Since apparently some of you do actually care, I will extend my little project for 4 extra days at the end of the month. I suppose I'm changing the name to '30 Blogs in 34 Days,' too.

But I digress. This weekend, I traveled home to Atlanta. (Aside: Is it just me, or does anyone else automatically think 'where the playas play' when the flight attendant says, 'Welcome to Atlanta' as you're taxiing to the gate?) I had a wonderful time at home with friends and family. Mom and I did lots of shopping; so much so, in fact, that I had to check an extra bag to make it back to New York. We also did a lot of eating. I got my annual fill of carbs and sweet tea at our trip to Cracker Barrel, where I ordered chicken 'n' dumplings, hashbrown casserole, macaroni and cheese and a side of biscuits. This order was quite embarrassing to my mom, who was more than slightly concerned about what our KSU student waitress might think of my eating habits.

I also got to have a mini-high school reunion on Friday night in honor of Anna and Adam's upcoming wedding. At least half of my graduating class gathered at Julie's Friday night for a gluten-free evening of fun. It was so wonderful to catch up with everyone - both my best friends and old friends that I hadn't seen in years - and I'm so happy that I was able to make it down.

All in all, it was a lovely weekend at home. I caught up on the sleep and Chick-fil-A that my body had been lacking, got to see my mom, grandparents and friends, and spent plenty of money at Lenox and of course Target. How could I ask for more? :)

Question of the day

Why doesn't my freezer have a light?

It's 11:24p. My roommate is asleep. Our den is dark, and I don't want to turn the overhead light on because it might wake her up. But I want some ice.

I walk to the kitchen and open the freezer to get my ice cubes. (Side note that my freezer also does not have an ice maker so I am reaching for the ice tray, but that is not the question of the day.) However, much to my dismay, it's pitch black in there. Nothing. Nada. I am forced to blindly feel around for the ice cube tray...but it's not working. My hand is lost in a sea of Lean Cuisines and frozen chicken breasts.

Finally, in utter desperation because my freezer does not have a light, I am forced to open the refrigerator door to, um, shed some light on the situation. So there I'm standing, in my kitchen, in the dark, with both the freezer door and the refrigerator door open, just so I can locate my ice cube tray in my dark living room, and I'm wondering...

Why doesn't my freezer have a light?

A Day in the Life

Have you ever wondered how someone else would describe your job? (If you haven't, perhaps you are wondering now?) I am asked about my job often...people tend to have a "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days" picture of advertising, so sometimes it's a bit tricky to explain what I actually do. Because of this, today I decided to Google "Media Planner" and see what came up. In case you were curious about my day-to-day life, here it is in a nutshell according to the Princeton Review.


Career: Media Planner

A Day in the Life

Ever wonder why you don’t see commercials for Depends during Disney’s One Saturday Morning or commercials for tattoo parlors during Touched By an Angel? It all has to do with demographics. You’ve got a lot of little kids watching television on Saturday morning. The commercials they’ll see are filled with cool toys and sugarcoated chocolate cereals. Touched By an Angel has a more conservative audience that really wouldn’t be looking to get into body art or piercing. Businesses want to place their products and services in front of audiences they know are watching, listening, or even driving by on the road. How do they know? They turn to media planners. Media planners work in the media department of most advertising agencies. They are responsible for putting ads in the right place at the right time, reaching the desired audience for the least amount of money. Media planners gather information on the people’s viewing and reading habits. They evaluate editorial content and programming to determine the potential use of media such as newspapers, magazines, radio, television, billboards and electric displays, buses, subways, taxis, airports, bus terminals, or the Internet. Media planners have to know demographics and statistics, using extensive formulas to chart out the best way a business can spend their money in order to get their product in front of the public. Media planners have to know their math. Media planners then turn their information over to media buyers who track the media space and times available for purchase, negotiate and purchase time and space for ads, and make sure ads appear exactly as scheduled. Media planners work in the big cities, New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles. Other top cities include San Francisco, Minneapolis, and Dallas. They work in small advertising firms that employee less than ten people, to the big firms that employee dozens. Other media planners may work in house, meaning they work for a company that produces its own product and advertisements. No matter where they work, media planners can expect to put in a good 50 or more hours per week, as they strive to put together proposals for clients in a very short amount of time. Advertising is a high stress business, but the monetary reward of seeing your work pay off for the client can be well worth it.


Paying Your Dues

Most entry-level professional and managerial positions in the advertising industry require a bachelor’s degree, preferably with broad liberal arts exposure. Assistant media planner or assistant media buyers are also good entry-level positions, but these also require a bachelor’s degree. Beginners in the advertising world usually enter the industry in the account management or media department. Most media planners don’t stay in their positions for their entire careers, so training in other marketing courses, including a little psychology, accounting, and creative design, allow media planners to move to other positions within an agency. Media planners have good people skills, common sense, creativity, communication skills, and problem-solving ability. There is also a need for additional training for those already employed. Knowing the newest technology and using it to your customer’s advantage are fundamental to success. Media planners must also know how to keep in tune with the culture as it ages and changes values. Success in small projects will lead to bigger ones, and success in these endeavors can lead to supervisory positions.


Associated Careers

Other careers that use comparable skills to those of media planners are media buyers, advertising executives, and even statisticians. Media planners often move into the marketing part of advertising, working as copywriters and editors. Some, with Web experience, move into Web design and marketing.

"The Mormon guy running for President?" *

I am a firm believer that celebrity-sighting is an acquired skill. A skill, for that matter, that I do not have. While many of my friends see A-Listers all the time, I see them once in a blue moon. Case in point, after living here for a year and a half, my best celeb-sightings have been (in order) Ryan Gosling, Tom Brokaw, and the guy and girl who won "Grease: You're the One That I Want." A few years ago, I did see Nicole Kidman and the guy that cooks on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," but my luck has gone down since becoming an actual resident of NYC.

Because of my bad luck/lack of celeb-sighting skills, then, you can imagine my elation over the following events of today. I stopped by the News Corp building to drop something off for my friend Peyton, and as I waited in the lobby, a few cameramen were getting poised and ready to film. The next thing I knew, Mitt Romney, Republican presidential candidate extraordinaire, was walking solo out of the building. He was so nonchalant and so...alone...that I thought perhaps my eyes were deceiving me. I looked at the girl next to me and said, "Is that Mitt Romney?" I don't think she knew who Mitt Romney was. She said "Um, I don't know...I don't think so." Whatev. When the cameramen came back inside the building, I asked them, "Excuse me, who was that?" The cameraman (who I also don't think knew who Mitt Romney was) said, "Governor...Mitt...Romney?" Question mark? Ladies and gentlemen, we are not in Red State territory anymore.

Although if ever there was Red State territory in Manhattan, it is certainly in the Fox News building.




* My boss's response to me excitedly telling him I had just seen Mitt Romney.

God's way works.

I mentioned Elizabeth Gilbert and her book Eat, Pray, Love (and her glorious description of herself as having a 'putt-putt face') a couple weeks ago, and I must mention her again today.

After reading Eat, Pray, Love in a very short sitting, I was thrilled to see that she was going to be on Oprah. I set my DVR to record the show and thoroughly enjoyed seeing the author that I had come to know so well...to put a face and a voice and a personality to the words on her pages.

On the show, my friend Oprah asked my other friend Elizabeth how people can take what she learned by traveling the world for a year and apply it to their personal lives. Elizabeth offered the following two points (actually there were three, but I only remember two):

1. At the end of each day, write down the happiest moment of your day.
2. Determine your own personal mantra - the statement you consciously or subconsciously repeat in your own mind all day, every day.

I like these two ideas a lot. The idea to write down your happiest moment of each day is such a simple way to keep your perspective in the right place. So many times, when I come to the end of a day, my mind is swirling with the most stressful part of the day, or my biggest mistake of the day, or the sad moments of the day. What a needed shift to actively consider your happy moments, though! I have started doing this exercise - adding to to it my gratefulness to God for granting me that happy moment of the day - and I am going to try to do it forever. (In case you are curious, my happiest moment of today was eating lunch with Angie. :))

The other idea - that of a personal mantra - is a little trickier. The word 'mantra' immediately conjures up images of an old man sitting cross-legged humming for hours at a time while drinking green tea, but I think it can be more than that. The idea of a 'mantra' is about figuring out the lens at which you look at the world, in every moment of every day. Are you looking at the world through the mantra filter of 'It's all about me' or 'My life stinks' or 'I'm not good enough?' Or are you walking through life considering something positive and hopeful?

I've thought a lot about this, and I'm still not sure what my mantra-before-I-knew-I-had-a-mantra was. I do know, though, what my mantra is going to be from now on. 'God's way works,' a simple statement that comes courtesy of a friend of mine in Atlanta. I want to look at my life, my decisions, and the good times and the bad through this lens. I want to constantly remind myself that God's way, even when it is confusing or hard, is always the best in the end - hands down, no questions asked. God's way works. The end. Why is this simple truth so hard for me to remember? I'm hoping that by making this statement the underlying theme of my thoughts - my mantra - it will become an overt theme in my actions.

So that's my insight from Oprah and Eat, Pray, Love...a little corny, I know, but an interesting way to look at life. Enjoy thinking of your own happy memories and mantras as well!

Gameday musings from Lewis Grizzard

To my Son, if I ever have one:

Kid, I am writing this on September 3, 1984. I have just returned from Athens, where I spent Saturday watching the University of Georgia, your old dad's alma mater, play football against Clemson.

While the events of the day were still fresh on my mind, I wanted to recount them so if you are ever born, you can read this and perhaps be able to share one of the great moments in your father's life.

Saturday was a wonderful day on the Georgia campus.
We are talking blue, cloudless sky, a gentle breeze and a temperature suggesting summer's end and autumn's approach.

I said the blessing before we had lunch. I thanked the Lord for three things: fried chicken, potato salad and for the fact he had allowed me the privilege of being a Bulldog.
"And , Dear Lord," I prayed, "bless all those not as fortunate as I."

Imagine my son, 82,000 people, most of whom were garbed in red, gathered together gazing down on a lush valley of hedge and grass where soon historic sporting combat would be launched. Clemson was ranked number 2 in the nation, and Georgia, feared too young to compete with the veterans from beyond the river, could only dream, the smart money said, of emerging three hours hence victorious. They had us 20-6 at the half, son. A man sitting in front of me said, "I just hope we don't get embarrassed."

My boy, I had never seen such a thing as came to pass in the second half. Todd Williams threw one long and high, and Herman Archie caught it in the end zone, and it was now 20-13.
Georgia got the ball again and scored again, and it was now 20-20, and my mouth was dry, and my hands were shaking, and this Clemson fan who had been running his mouth the whole ballgame suddenly shut his fat face.

Son, we got ahead 23-20, and the ground trembled and shook, and many were taken by fainting spells.

Clemson's kicker, Donald Igwebuike, tied it 23-23 and this sacred place became the center of the universe.

Only seconds were left when Georgia's kicker, Kevin Butler, stood poised in concentration. The ball rushed toward him, and it was placed upon the tee a heartbeat before his right foot launched it heavenward.

A lifetime later, the officials threw their arms aloft. From 60 yards away, Kevin Butler had been true, and Georgia led and would win 26-23.

I hugged perfect strangers and kissed a fat lady on the mouth. Grown men wept. Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. Stars fell, and joy swept through, fetched by a hurricane of unleashed emotions. When Georgia beat Alabama 18-17 in 1965, it was a staggering victory. When we came back against Georgia Tech and won 29-28 in1978, the Chapel bell rang all night. When we beat Florida 26-21 in the last seconds in 1980, we called it a miracle. And when we beat Notre Dame 17-10 in the Sugar Bowl that same year for the national championship, a woman pulled up her skirt and showed the world the Bulldog she had sewn on he underbritches. But Saturday may have been even better than any of those.

Saturday in Athens was a religious experience. I give this to you, son. Read it and re-read it, and keep it next to your heart.

And when people want to know how you wound up with the name "Kevin" let them read it, and then they will know.

- Lewis Grizzard

To live is Christ

The Prayer of St Patrick -

Christ with me
Christ before me
Christ behind me
Christ in me
Christ beneath me
Christ above me
Christ on my right
Christ on my left
Christ when I lie down
Christ when I sit down
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me
Christ in the eye that sees me
Christ in the ear that hears me

Crossword puzzles and I - A love story

Anyone who knows me knows that I love crossword puzzles. L-O-V-E crossword puzzles. I like to do them on the beach, on the train, at the airport, on the weekends at Starbucks or at the Park...clearly, anywhere, any time. To me, crossword puzzles sum up everything about my personality - they are structured, written in nice little boxes with clearly defined borders in a black and white palette. There is nothing subjective about the crossword puzzle. It is either right or wrong. But it is creative, with interesting and humorous themes intertwined throughout. And it incorporates mathematics, too. Oh the bliss of the crossword puzzle.

I did a quick search through my blog over the last year and discovered that I have mentioned crossword puzzles on at least four occasions:

Crossword puzzles & marriage
Crossword puzzles & park benches
Crossword puzzles & my purse
Crossword puzzles & my wings

As I've stated before, my favorite crossword puzzle of all is the weekly puzzle on the last page of New York magazine. I am not joking when I say I do this puzzzle every single Saturday, preferably in a big comfy coffee shop chair with an enormous cup of coffee in my hand. The New York magazine crossword puzzle is the perfect level of difficulty for me - not like the Sunday New York Times, which is nearly impossible for me, but challenging enough that I usually can't finish it completely...I normally have 5-10 little boxes left before I consult Google to finish it up. (And yes, I Google what I cannot complete on my own.)

But this week, major progress was made. That's right, ladies and gentlemen - this week I completed the entire New York magazine crossword puzzle, on my own, with no help from friends or Google, and with no mistakes. It is a perfect, completed New York magazine crossword puzzle, and it only took me a year and a half to achieve.

Wahoo!




(Fitting that the theme is food and not British literature or the periodic table of elements.)

Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, but...

I have received the following hysterical Craig's List posting and reply several times via email over the last week.
Seriously?! Outrageous.


Reply to: pers-431649184@craigslist.org Date: 2007-09-25, 11:07AM EDT

What am I doing wrong?

Okay, I'm tired of beating around the bush. I'm a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I'm articulate and classy. I'm not from New York. I'm looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don't think I'm overreaching at all.

Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200 - 250. But that's where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won't get me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she's not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level?

Here are my questions specifically:

- Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics- bars, restaurants, gyms

- What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won't hurt my feelings

- Is there an age range I should be targeting (I'm 25)?

- Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east side so plain? I've seen really 'plain jane' boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I've seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What's the story there?

- Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investment banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out?

- How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY

Please hold your insults - I'm putting myself out there in an honest way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I'm being up front about it. I wouldn't be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn't able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth.


it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests


PostingID: 432279810
----------------
THE ANSWER
Dear Pers-431649184:

I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament.

Firstly, I’m not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here’s how I see it.

Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here’s why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here’s the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity…in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won’t be getting any more beautiful!

So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you’re 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you!

So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold...hence the rub...marriage. It doesn’t make good business sense to “buy you” (which is what you’re asking) so I’d rather lease. In case you think I’m being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It’s as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage.

Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as “articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful” as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn’t found you, if not only for a tryout.

By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn’t need to have this difficult conversation.

With all that said, I must say you’re going about it the right way.

I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

Come on ride the train

Tonight, Lauren, Andrea and I made the exciting trek out to Long Island for the (drum roll please) So You Think You Can Dance tour. Now, if you are not a fan of the show, this may not sound very fun. Or cool. However, if you are a SYTYCD fanatic like the three of us are, this was a more than worthwhile effort for the best.TV.show.'concert'.ever.

The evening started out eventfully, of course. Lauren was meeting us at Nassau Coliseum, so Andrea and I made plans to meet at Penn Station to take the 5:51p train out. I allowed a full 45 minutes to get from my office to Penn Station, which should usually be plenty of time. Unfortunately, I got held up by a slow, crowded E train, and I ran into the train station at 5:45p.

Once I got a cell phone signal, I got the text message from Andrea that she already had my ticket. Relieved that I didn't have to stand in line, I called her to meet up and board the train at track 14 together. In our frantic, rushed state, though, we absolutely could not find each other, despite the fact that we were both in front of the strip of restaurants that resembles a food court. With the clock reading 5:49p, we decided to just board the train separately and find each other at the next stop. Makes sense, right?

Problem one. Neither Andrea nor I can figure out if we are at the front or the back of the train. We both know we're kind in the middle-ish-end-ish area, but we don't know if we're close to one another or not. We try to read each other the number of car we are in, only to realize that the cars are not in sequential order and the car number does not help. Once the train starts moving, though, we determine that I am in the front and she is in the back. Andrea quickly befriends her conductor, who opens up the CTU map of this Hempstead-bound LIRR train and tells her exactly how many cars apart we are.

Problem two. LIRR train conductors - shock of all shocks! - actually want to see your train ticket once you board. Andrea had two tickets, and I had....zero. Andrea's BFF, the conductor, instructed her to tell me to just explain the sitch to my conductor and cross my fingers. As I loudly discussed all of this with Andrea on the otherwise silent train, I think my conductor sympathized with me, because he never asked for my ticket. Check, problem two solved.

Problem three. We get to the next station. Andrea calls again and we make a plan to both run out on to the platform and find one another before the train departs again. Poised and ready, the train slowly creeps in to the station, only for us to discover that the first four cars were the only ones in front of the platform. This meant that I could leave my car, but Andrea was more or less stuck in hers, unless she wanted to hike through the grass and climb on to the platform. She did not, so we decided to wait for the next station.

Problem four. Only the first four cars had a platform at the next station, too. Another frenzied phone call. Another series of 'you lunatic' looks from the other passengers around me (who by now have come to recognize my Beyonce 'Irreplaceable' phone ring).

Problem five. We are now approaching the large Jamaica stop. Although every other stop only had a platform on one side, Jamaica (of course) has platforms on both. Should we go right, or should we go left? Thanks to a kind heads up by Andrea's new best friend the train conductor, we are made aware of the dual platform issue a few seconds ahead of time. Andrea calls, we decide to bear right, and we're good to go.

At this point, we (finally!) both exited the train, locked eyes on the platform, ran toward one another, hopped back into the train, and proceeded to Nassau Coliseum to meet Lauren. The rest of the evening went smoothly - perfectly, even - as we swooned and screamed over the SYTYCD dancers. It really was a fantastic show, and we are more in love with Neil and Danny now than ever before (although we don't think they swing our way, mm-kaaay?). Floating out of the coliseum on cloud nine (and through a freezing monsoon), we peacefully headed home with visions of dreamy dancers all in our heads.

Real American Heroes

Today we salute you, Mr. Christopher Columbus.

Not only did you sail the ocean blue, you proved to history that discovering The New World is only worthwhile if you take all the credit. And hey - if not for your gross navigational miscalculations aboard the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria, Native Americans may have never have had the chance to be called Indians.

We're also glad you gave us another reason to have another parade in New York City...after all, if the Irish, the Puerto Ricans, the Chinese and the mermaids have one, so must the Italians. And to think - had you not colonized the Western Hemisphere, we might be shopping at the Whole Foods at Cortez Circle, traveling to Magellan, OH, or prosecuting Balboan drug lords.

All in all, you can say with confidence that you influenced the course of United States history. Second graders don't recite any rhymes about Amerigo Vespucci, do they?

So crack open an ice cold 15th century Bud Light, Mr. Christopher Columbus. Ferdinand and Isabella would be proud.

College football haikus - OT edition

LSU's on top
Was there ever any doubt?
The SEC rules

College football haikus

Georgia lost again
Rocky Top and ugly orange -
I hate Tennessee

Stanford wins, what shock!
USC was bound to flop
Overrated much?

Upset in Big Ten
The Badger, Badger, Badgers
Lose, lose, lose, lose, lose

Um, South Florida who?
Where did they even come from?
Are they a real school?

Fighting Irish win
Thought it was impossible
Rudy would be proud

Red River Shootout
Like our big Cocktail Party
But with cowboy hats

Time to go to bed
Florida's beating LSU
What a wacky day

TV Hotties: The Results Show

After a riveting week of fall television, the results are in. I'm not talking about who killed the ratings and who tanked - I'm talking about your favorite TV hunk. Out of a record-breaking 20 votes, John Krasinksi, aka 'Jim Halpert' on NBC's 'The Office' is who you voted as the hottest guy on TV this fall.


John led the pack with 40% of all votes. The Bachelor, McDreamy and McSteamy came in at a 3-way tie for second, each with 20% of the votes (sorry, ABC). Rounding out the bottom, the Dancing with the Stars 'stars,' Cameron Mathison and Albert Reed, as well as Zachary Levi from the show 'Chuck,' received no love at all. This was made apparent by the fact that Albert got kicked off DWTS on Tuesday that two people emailed me to ask 'What/who the heck is 'Chuck?''

In honor of the love of my life John Krasinski winning the poll (I promise it wasn't rigged!), I would like to pay tribute with the following video, dedicated to my dear friend Lauren Spina. The volume is low, so you'll need to turn your speakers all the way up.



Have a great weekend!

My life by the numbers...

63 The number of square feet that make up my bedroom

4 The number of bridesmaids dresses I will wear between August and December this year

20 The number of romance movies I've seen out of NetFlix's Top 25 Romance Movies list

25 The age I will turn in December

2 The number of times I watched last week's episode of The Office

21 The combined number of hours I worked in the last two days

1 The number of kitchen drawers that I have

125 The number of friends I have in New York, according to Facebook

6.5 My shoe size

48 The number of pairs of shoes I have (all of which manage to fit in my 63 square foot bedroom. Priorities, folks!)

86 The high today in New York City

68 The average high for today's date in New York City

62 How many people read my blog on Sunday, according to Google Analytics

1 How many people read my blog in Sweden, according to Google Analytics. Danderyd, to be exact.

Donny Deutsch - Big Idea or Big Idiot?

I recently watched a fascinating segment on The Today Show. Ann Curry was in the midst of a three-part series with Donny Deutsch entitled, "Be the CEO of your Dating Life." In the series, Donny, typically confined to the advertising and marketing world, was advising single women on how to take business principles and apply them to their love lives. His example, which is of course no news to me (and if it was, I would be out of a job), was that if you started a new company or launch a new brand, you would not just sit back and wait for the customers to come to you; instead, you would create an aggressive and strategic marketing plan. Likewise, Donny stated that single women can't just sit back and wait for their dating life to find them, but they must make a plan (are you crafting your deck yet?).

Dr. Donny's marketing/dating plan advice included the following steps:

1. Create your marketing objective, ie a mission statement. This must be specific and quantifiable. Example given on Today Show: "I would like to be in a serious relationship in the next 12 months."

2. Determine your unique selling proposition. Your USP should be the thing that sets you apart from every other woman...in other words, why you are great and why Mr. X should fall head-over-heels in love with you and not someone else. Note that your USP should not be simply what you do or where you are from; it should be who you are. Today Show example: Wrong: "I am a chef." Right: "I am a funny, interesting, successful woman who enjoys cooking."

3. Define your target market. Are you looking for a 30-year old Republican who plays tennis and likes The Office? Or a 50-year old Irish Catholic fly fisherman who enjoys remodeling kitchens and juggling? You have to know who you are looking for if you want to find them. (I don't remember The Today Show example...sorry, I didn't put down my mascara to take notes. It's ok, though; I'm sure you are all looking for 50-year old Irish Catholic fly fishermen who remodel kitchens and juggle.)

4. Make a media plan, or a go-to-market strategy. This one particularly interested me since I am a professional Media Planner. In the advertising industry, the media plan is where you determine where you will advertise in order to best reach your target market. In dating, Donny recommends that you go places and do things that will increase your odds of meeting someone in your target. Today Show example: "Instead of looking to meet men in bars, I am going to enroll in a wine-tasting seminar."

Fascinating, no?! So the question/s for you is this: Do you agree with Donny Deutsch's "Be the CEO of your Dating Life" advice, or is it all a bunch of malarkey? Is it smart for women to apply marketing principles to their personal lives? Or does it take the romance out of life to try to strategize your love life? And is it even possible to do so?

My small group had an interesting conversation about all of this tonight, led by Jamarah, our newly-appointed dating coach/shrink, but I want to toss it out to the great big blogging void for additional thoughts. Talk amongst yourselves. (I'm a little verklempt.)

Pop culture: A life lesson (- or - I told you reading Perez Hilton every day would pay off!)

This evening, In Touch magazine hosted a "Hollywood Hot-Seat" competition for the New York media agencies. Five of my co-workers got to compete in a game-show style contest as they answered questions about pop culture. Why, you might ask, did I not participate on the Initiative NY team? Well I didn't quite respond fast enough...I think the email went out to the agency at 3:45p, I responded at 3:47p, and they had already booked a team. Not a problem, though - I got to be a part of the live studio audience (sans the studio since we weren't on TV).

My co-workers and I arrived at the venue with our game faces on. We had recently learned that, rather than taking our first-come-first-served approach, other agencies had actually held mini-competitions to determine their team. Alas, we were already at a disadvantage, and this was media agency war! After scoping out the competition, we decided to do some last minute studying. We reviewed which stars used to be Mouseketeers (Brit, Justin, Christina, JC and Keri Russell were who we came up with), celebs' clothing lines (Gwen, SJP, Beyonce, among others), and various other topics that we had been storing up in our brains for this exact opportunity.

As the time came for us to take our seats, the in/famous Chuck Woolery (ha! I didn't mention we had a star host of Love Connection and Scrabble fame!) proceeded to welcome the teams and announce the rules. He was very...starched and...fried-looking? We also speculated that he had may have had one too many cocktails before, because he proceeded to mix up his question cards, make racial slurs toward a contestant, and pronounce Marcia Cross's first name "mar-SEE-ah." Come on, man. Despite the crazy/Botoxed/inebriated Chuck, though, the game was a blast. Best of all, Initiative kicked some major pop culture booty. Our team of five easily won the first round (after correctly answering question after question, including "Name three celebrities who got their starts on the Mickey Mouse Club" and "What is Sarah Jessica Parker's clothing line"), and went on to the finals. Mia and Catherine, the anchors of our team, dominated OMD in the finals, leading our team to victory.

Have I mentioned that the grand prize for all five team members was a trip to Cabo? And that Initiative LA won the West Coast competition? That's right.

So, you may ask, what's the moral of the story?
1. Never leave your desk during the day, even for 30 seconds. This is imperative if you want In Touch magazine to pay for a trip for you and 9 of your favorite co-workers to go to Cabo.
2. Pop culture knowldege, while seemingly inconsequential and sometimes indicative of a lack of a real life, is an essential ingredient to your all-around well-being in the world. Especially if you want In Touch magazine to pay for a trip for you and 9 of your favorite co-workers to go to Cabo.

October

"The air is mighty peaceful and the scene is good to see
And there's something in October that stirs deep inside of me.
And I just can't help believing in a God above us, when
Everything is ripe for harvest and the frost is back again."

Edward A Guest