Hit It & Quit It

I was in a new client brainstorm today for this company who wants us to run a promotional effort for them. The idea of a full out blitz was discussed and, without going into too much detail, how we would support the brand before and after the promotion. To which I replied, “Yea, I mean, you can’t just hit it and quit it.” For those of you who know the entire Anna & Dave story, this is especially entertaining. 

Mister! Mister! Get Me Out Of Here!

I’m sharing a similar sentiment with the crazy lady who jumps on Happy Gilmore’s car when they’re touring the retirement community. The blistering winter climate is abusing me behind closed doors Ben Stiller-style and I just want to get out of here! Thankfully, next week I’m spending 4 days in Santa Clara (Silicon Valley). Unthankfully it’s for Geekfest ’10, or the SMX West SEO Conference. Don’t get me wrong, like any online marketer I do geek out a bit over new ways to improve my client’s keyword ranking in search engines (SEO = Search Engine Optimization to all my non-marketing friends), but the fact that I’m going to be immersed in SEO culture for 4 full days is a little too much to handle. I was perusing the information the conference sent me about seminars, keynote speakers, and networking events when I came upon the following party which looks like it was created by some sort of cyber stalker.  Bing is one of the event sponsors and is hosting an “after hours” networking event one night from 9-11pm entitled, “SMX After Dark.” A) all my spare time on this trip will be spent catching up on existing client work and B) SEO geeks + after dark = a scene from this horror movie Rachel made me watch when I was little called “Killer Nerd.”

McChange my McShake???

Don’t panic…it’s that time of the year already! When it’s starting to get warm enough not freezing enough that you begin to crave some sort of refreshing ice-cream treat which you can only justify indulging in because it only comes around for a few short weeks per year. Yes, I’m talking about Shamrock Shake time!!! I caved (it only took 3 days) and consumed my first vat of fat and lusciousness this afternoon during lunch. I always get upset with myself after I have one because a) a small is like 420 cals and b) I always down it in under 90 seconds which inadvertently results in a serious brain freeze and stomach ache. Ahh but it’s worth it. Just ask my mom who a few years back was so excited about Shamrock Shake season that she crashed her Audi TT convertible into the giant yellow pole in front of the McD’s drive-in. Oh but it was worth it, all $800 in damage. One thing I wasn’t super psyched about was that I was asked if I wanted whipped cream and a cherry on top. “For real?” was my response to the McD’s crew member. How dare you…does Ronald know about this?

If There Was a Bucket: Part III

If there was a bucket of things that annoyed me, microwaves with remaining time blinking would be in that bucket. Is it really so hard to push “clear” when you take out your mac n cheese, lean cuisine, or whatever you’re zapping prior to the initial time set? Microwaves are an imperative time-keeping device in most American kitchens. When you neglect to push clear and remaining time is just sitting there, blinking, mocking you, you’re losing some of the value of having a microwave in the first place. I’m going to go out on a limb here, and say that 25% of the value of a microwave is the clock function. Yea I said it. 25%. 74% of the remaining value is in the actual cooking function and 1% is based on entertainment value (i.e. blowing up a parakeet…nice work Mr. Alvarez).

You Can't Put Wine in Hobo Stew!

Dave’s friends rented a house-type-thing up in Shanty Creek, Michigan this weekend so 12 of us are shacking up there for the weekend. I’m pretty excited to “ski” or whatever gliding down a Midwest hill is called and spend time with the group, but the logistics of this whole weekend are going to be somewhat tricky. First off, this place is 5 or 6 hours away. That’s not a quick little weekend road trip, that’s the 2nd longest car ride I will have ever been on. It also translates to a full half day in the car with Dave, listening to him sing aloud to T-pain on the radio. I’m armed with a stack of old Red Eye crosswords for the trip up and back, but maybe I should swing by Brookstone for some noise-cancelling headphones or something. Very Michael and Dwight on the Office when they take the train up to Philly. The other things that scares me about this adventure up North are our accommodations. One never knows where you’ll end up when guys are left to their own devices. JT$, look forward to multiple Troop Beverly Hills quotes coming your way, most notably:

"There were no outlets. And there was dirt, and bugs, and... and it rains there. So anyway, we've found a place that's much more us, so if any of the other parents call you’ll tell them we’re at the Beverly Hills Hotel…thanks!”

And

“Get me another bottle of Evian!”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?!?”

Deep Thoughts, Olympics Edition I

• Could I have been atop a medal stand if I went to the luge park with my dad 3 years ago? 
• Do I not have a captivating enough back-story to be an Olympian? I wasn’t plucked from my family at age 3 to train at some sort of prison training facility nor renounced my citizenship to learn from the finest coaches in the world.
• Does your hair have to be obscure to live the Olympic dream?
• Why does Bob Costas look younger every 2 years?
• I’m all for over the top accessories, but the 2010 medals are bordering on Flavor Flav clock necklaces.
• WTF is Dick Button talking about and why does Bob Costas let him start and stop 20 different thoughts within each break for commentary?
• My nails are whittled away to nothing; thanks ski bums.

 

Trampiest of Stamps

I'm not even going to rant about this one because it just speaks for itself. I'm a pretty big Biggest Loser fan (I really miss ellipticaling with you for an hour at Cap Fitness every Tuesday Michelle :-)). And don’t get me wrong, I do actually watch it because it’s an inspiring show. However, has anyone else noticed how as the weeks have progressed, you can now see Ashely’s tramp stamp? How did it even get there in the first place? Were there a series of industrial strength clamps involved?

Vienna, FL?

I purposefully have not been watching the current season of the Bachelor on a regular basis. The entire franchise is just so GD frustrating. That being said, I have caught bits and pieces of the last three episodes and let me tell you, that Vienna chick is alllll sorts of crazy. She represents all that women hate about other women. Self-serving, obnoxious, would do anything to obtain a dude’s approval, pretty enough to feel a little threatened but not enough to where you’re like, “Ok fine she’s cuter than me and I accept that.” Is she really being herself Jake? You’ve known her for 3 weeks; do you really know what “being herself” actually consists of?

Also, you’d think her parents would, ya know, clean up a bit. I don’t know how these people live in the state of old people but apparently there aren’t any young people around to tidy up after all the old folks. Tim Gunn would have a field day with the taste level of these tacky McTackersons. Poor Austria: I wonder if they know their capital city’s name is being polluted in such a manner overseas? Erica, write them a letter.

Living Version of the Chaos Theory

Cameron (Anna): I'm dying.
Ferris (the World): You're not dying, you just can't think of anything good to do.

Too often lately, I’ve been experiencing a real life version of the piece of dialog above. Each week it seems I (Cameron) have some new mystery symptom/illness/syndrome. I’ve been told that I spend an inordinate amount of time at urgent care when I was a kid, not because I necessarily had a serious injury or illness, but just that I always had something obscure going on. I guess I only had a broken hand once and a few stitches here and there, but didn’t everyone break a bone or come up with some strange illness when they were little? The difference with me, however, is that I haven’t seem to grow out of this awkward “wtf is wrong with you” phase as of yet. Reflecting back on it all, I’ve decided that all my recent medical mysteries and mishaps can all stem from one thing: me trying to be my sister. It surely didn’t seem like it at the time, but I always wanted to be like Katie growing up. She was in dance, I was in dance. She started gymnastics, I wanted to start gymnastics. Katie didn’t want to wear jeans for an entire summer, see ya later denim. Then in high school, she decided to run track. Clearly I followed suit when I was in 7th grade and by the time I was a sophomore in high school, I quit all other sports to train at Acceleration year round. Now ever since I was little I was pretty jacked and Accel only made this situation worse. Little did we know that I was prone to a genetic-fueled disorder called Chronic Compartment Syndrome, made worse by excessive training, which would ultimately lead me down a path to 3 different calf surgeries, countless hours at physical therapy, and 3 completely fugly scars on each leg. Me having mono in college can also be traced back to Katie (Katie – Laura – etc – etc) as well as my stomach problems (Katie – going to UW – me going to UW – stressing out about school – drinking – acid reflux disease) and most recently my eye issue (Katie moved to Chicago – I moved to Chicago – windy city – job at Salt – Sun Valley (desert) – living downtown by Katie – walking to work). Did you know your eyes can be dry to the point to where they have to put plugs in your eye ducts to keep the tears on the eye surface? Yea me either, until yesterday. But what else is there left to go wrong? Maybe I haven’t invented it yet?
Heart you sis!

Packer Fan Announces He Will Return to Drinking for Another Season

Following his wife's off-season threat to leave him...
http://www.theonion.com/content/video/packers_fan_announces_he_will?utm_source=EMTF_Onion

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/packers_fan_announces_he_will?utm_source=EMTF_Onion

Observational Talking

The idea of observational talking first came to my attention a few years ago by a friend of mine (I’ll protect the innocent). We’d be riding in the car and this person was constantly reading miscellaneous signs along the road. "Big Phils Auto Repair." "Culvers." "Exit 5 miles." "Mendota Mental Health Center."  Literally it was like his/her eyes were talking. I understand we’re on a long car ride and we’re out of the standard topics of conversation, but can’t you just not talk? The Midwest is full of beautiful scenery: everything from bull barns to Chanel shops.  Why does the mute air have to be filled with some sort of useless noise? If you’re going to say the words “Big Phils Auto Repair,” at least be able to follow up with some sort of valuable/interesting piece of information/question. For example, “Ugh, I just had the worst experience at the Audi dealer, maybe I should try a local repair shop like that.” Or, “Do you think Big Phil is actually big, or do you think it’s one of those things like how big guys are referred to as ‘Tiny’? Do you think it goes both ways?” Even though these are not necessarily poignant topics of conversation, at least it’s not observationally spewing out words. I’ve even gone as far as kept a book of questions next to the front passenger seat of my car to avoid this exact situation. Anything to avoid the awkward non-silence brought about by an observational talker.

Dangerously in Fug

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for dangerous, daring fashion. I’ve rocked fringe booties with gold studs, latex leggings, ripped tights, those Abercrombie graphic tees from middle school with seemingly coy yet promiscuous innuendos on them, etc. There's something to be said for those who are courageous enough to blaze their own style trail.  Yet after last nights Grammy’s, I have to ask: doesn’t anyone just want to look pretty anymore? Lady Gaga has an excuse; she’s trying to detract attention from her giant nose so the general public won’t notice when she chops it in half next week. But Beyonce, Rhianna, Pink, Jennifer Hudson, Ciara, WTF? You’re all drop dead gorgeous when you want to be. Do you just get sick of swimming around in your gorgeousness all day and feel like you need a break from pruniness? I do feel like Taylor Swift was trying to be ‘pretty’ last night, however, nothing’s pretty about an awkward hunchback who sings karaoke (sorry Taylor).