Life at an Ad Agency

I saw some of the funniest events at work today, and I work for a generally funny digital ad agency. As a creative group, we like to have our fun - nerf dart wars, the entire floor singing happy birthday to a co-worker in Chinese, a full floor of people erupting into applause at random times in the day for no good reason, and sharing 5-pound Hershey's chocolate bars among teammates. All of these things have happened in the past 24 hours.

Today I saw a copywriter take the ultimate revenge against a designer. These two teammates of mine always get along well, but the designer tends to be a bit of a smart-ass, which made him a great target.

Rob, the Senior Designer on the team, came in to work on a Friday morning and started having trouble with his large monitor. (Designers have a smaller laptop with monitor but also a large monitor to view details more easily.) Every so often his large monitor would go out for no apparent reason. It would just go blank. But then it would eventually come back up again.

After several rounds of this frustration, he talked to his creative team and showed them what was happening and they all agreed that it was a problem. Sometimes he would be walking through a design with a co-worker and his screen would suddenly go blank, and he used many, many curse-words to share his feelings on the matter. He eventually called Support which takes two days to respond anyway.

After a while I noticed that my teammates were acting strangely. The Senior Copywriter seemed to be giggling to himself and banging his coffee mug on desks more than normal. An Art Director seemed to be jumping around and more animated than normal. Everyone seemed to use clapping as part of their communications more than normal.

I finally caught on when I saw hidden laughter among the cube-mates. Will, the Senior Copywriter on the team, bought 'The Clapper' along with an adapter to hook it up to Rob's large monitor's on/off switch. Every time someone made two somewhat-loud noises near Rob's desk, his monitor would turn on or off in a 2-second delay, depending on prior state.

This was so incredibly entertaining all day because Rob is so easily frustrated. He would get so mad at his monitor and shout sudden profanities at his computer. Sometime around mid-day Rob even noticed that the Art Director was acting weird and she just pranced off and said she's just a big circus monkey and no one even thought twice about it because that's just how Nicole is. I couldn't believe how the other creative folks kept such straight faces through his tantrums all day. Once I had to leave a quick creative review at his desk because I was going to lose it.

Anyway, I've come to realize that my creative team members are masters of deception. This clapper extravaganza absolutely made my Friday. Unfortunately Rob has to go to a funeral on Monday and Tuesday, and although we all felt a little bad, we still plan to unplug the clapper and re-install in a few weeks to really make him lose his mind once he feels better.

A few funny sites...

These are updated frequently, some every day, some multiple times a day. More experienced web-surfers have probably seen most of these, but thought I'd share anyway.

These two are parts of the same site, but have to point out both...great fun...not only are they hilarious to read, you can post captions, pictures, etc. of your own.
http://www.failblog.org/
http://www.icanhascheezburger.com/

The best news site in existence...followed this for years. I started reading it in print in Chicago years ago. We'd pick up a copy on our way into the Irish Oak, a bar on the block next to Wrigley.
http://www.theonion.com/ (it's officially going out of print, sniffle...)

Obscure blog about cute animals with huge egos...don't be put off by the profane title, Catholic readers, it's worth the occasional curse-word. It's hilarious...started following this one last year.
http://www.fuckyoupenguin.blogspot.com/

Hope these bring a giggle. Scratch that - I hope these bring a good belly laugh.

Flying Pig Flu

They say that the swine flu virus was a combination of swine and avian flu strains...so....it's truly the flying pig flu. Thank goodness I'm not running the Pig this weekend, as if I could if I tried! I bet I could manage a mile (yeah, just one mile of the 26). I certainly wish all runners/walkers well. :-)

Gran Slang.....humbug.

As I flipped through radio stations last Friday, I heard an announcer mention 'gran slang', an online dictionary for youngsters to better understand what their grandparents are talking about. I remember my Grandma Smith referring to their couch as the 'davenport' and I had no idea what she was talking about. I couldn't wait to check out this online dictionary...until I found out that I couldn't find it anywhere online.

A British firm called Home & Capital Advisers sent a press release to announce their efforts to help 'inter-generational communication'. They get an A for publicity but an F for everything else. Maybe I'm the only one who can't find it, but I looked for a long time and I'm generally pretty savvy online. The only Home & Capital Advisers 'dictionary' that I could find was embedded in a PDF press release, and the 'gran slang' section was a whopping one page long.

Although I'm not aware of other 'gran slang' dictionaries for young folk to understand the older folk, there are other options for older folk trying to understand the young folk. I check out http://www.urbandictionary.com/ every so often. It's all user-generated content, so not everything is legitimate, but other visitors vote on each term as thumbs-up or thumbs-down. A lot of the terms are hilarious. A recent example..."carcolepsy - a condition affecting buddies on a trip who fall asleep as soon as the car starts moving, providing no company or driving help. Example: 'Joe slept the whole way here, I think he suffers from carcolepsy.'"

I highly doubt that teenagers are running around using the term 'carcolepsy' or 'shyPod' or 'laundry limbo'...but it's great fun to read. Some terms are a little raunchy but it's all in good fun.

Sorry to report about those 'gran slang' lickspittles and all their hullaballoo...we won't dwell on their poppycock, we'll just move on to find better eggs.

The Smitten Is the Snuggie of Hand-Warming Devices

The Smitten - gangster of gloves - can't keep your hands warm on your own, eh?

This roaming phalangeror looks to flirt frivolously with any hands available. The Smitten targets a vulnerable market segment - affection-seeking humans who type on keyboards and mobile devices. Because we can't type in mittens, our fingers are freaking cold...and very lonely.

Trust me - the Smitten wants to own your phalanges. The Smitten is the thief of thumbs, plunderer of pointers, marauder of middle fingers, robber of ring fingers, and pillager of pinkies.

Do not fall prey to the advertising scheme of the Smitten! Be strong, turn up your thermostat, and visit an online dating service immediately.

Month's Worth of Entries, Rolled Into One Rant (Get Comfy, It's a Long One)

On this lovely, icy Friday, I'd like to raise my (extra large) glass of wine in a toast to the week of January 26, 2009. Good riddance to this week and the horse it rode in on.

A very unassuming heating/cooling expert spoke words of wisdom to me this week...that home maintenance problems 'come in threes'...we laughed.

Preface: I knew from the start that I had a big work week ahead of me. I had two big client presentations and a lot of prep work to do. I expected a 60-hour week. I didn't expect that I would also need to allocate time and lots and lots of money to my home - the very place where I usually find the most comfort and security! I also didn't expect that the tri-state would be hit with a three-pronged winter storm at the same time. I'll provide a play-by-play between me and Phoebe, my pup.
**Warning - Get comfortable - this is a near-novella disguised as a blog post!!**

Sunday, 1/25, Evening
Emily: "I have a big week ahead of me, Phoebe."
Phoebe: "Sucks to be you, I'll be right here napping. It feels kinda cold in here, I'm gonna curl up on this heap of clean clothes over here and leave my fur all over it. Turn off the light, will ya? I'm tryin' to sleep."

Monday, 1/26, Morning
Emily: "Brr, it feels kinda cold in here. Probably because it's 55 degrees. I'm gonna restart the furnace and hope it warms up by the time I get back from work."
Phoebe: "It better warm up, or I'm gonna expose you for the neglectful parent that you are. Then I'll sue your a** for physical and emotional damages."
Emily: "Right-o, Phoebe. I have a big day ahead of me at work, I better start lookin' good. I'm gonna blow dry my hair straight today."
(Emily turns on blow dryer.)
-- Zap --
Phoebe: "What the F***, dude!?!?"
Emily: "Don't panic, sweet little pup. We've blown a fuse. I'll unplug the heater and go flip the breaker down in the basement."
(Emily flips all breakers multiple times.)
Phoebe: "Dude, it's not working. You broke it. Now we only have electric downstairs."
Emily: "Sorry, Pheebs...I will call an electrician if I can't figure it out tonight."
Phoebe: "Fine, I'll just live in squalor today like a common street dog. As if you care."

Monday, 1/26, Evening
Emily: "Brrrr, it's fifty degrees in here. Sorry, Phoebinator. Better call the heating guys."
Phoebe: "No s***, Sherlock. I've been freezing all d*** day and I couldn't fall asleep to the TV upstairs like usual for my two afternoon naps. Now gimme my dinner. And don't call me 'Phoebinator.'"
Emily: "Let's turn on the space heater downstairs to stay warm tonight."

Tuesday, 1/27, Early Morning
Emily: "We got hit with a major winter storm. You're going to have to let me do my work here today."
Phoebe: "Thanks, meteorologist Charek...are you going to cover top news stories and traffic too?"
Emily: "I have calls in to the heating guys and the electrician. They'll be visiting this morning, so you'll need to behave for our visitors."
Phoebe: "Are you s***ing me? I hardly ever get to sniff and jump on strangers, and these people are coming in willingly. You're also paying them well, so I'm gonna go stretch out in preparation."

Tuesday, 1/27, Late Morning
Phoebe: "Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door!"
(Emily lets the heating woman, Tara, into the house.)
Phoebe: "Tara looks like a man, but she's a woman?"
(Emily shushes Phoebe.)
Emily: "Hi Tara, I'll show you to the basement and explain what's going on."
Phoebe: "The d*** furnace is 15 years old, it's a f***ing goner, face it. Now let me sniff you."
(Emily and Tara check out the furnace and decide it's necessary to replace. Tara calls a sales rep. Tara leaves.)

Tuesday, 1/27, Noon
Emily: "Phoebe, I have conference calls and need you to behave."
(Emily spends five minutes on the call.)
Phoebe: "Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door!"
(Doorbell rings, Emily exits conference call and lets electrician in.)
Phoebe: "John has really dark skin that makes me bark and sniff even more than usual!! Look out!!!"
Emily: "Hello, let me show you to the fuse box in the basement..."
(Emily writes a check to the electrician who shows her how to appropriately flip a breaker in her ancient fuse box. The doorbell rings, and Emily lets the furnace salesman into the house.)
Phoebe: "I've died and gone to heaven!! I can't prioritize where to sniff and jump first!"
(Emily shows the electrician out, brings the furnace guy in and arms him with dog treats. He asks a lot of questions about her house. Emily warns him that she has to lead a conference call at 1pm, so he sells and sells quickly. He gives lots of 'discounts', charges an exorbitant amount, gets Emily's signature. Emily calls in to her conference call. Salesman exits house and shovels Emily's entire driveway and sidewalks to make way for furnace delivery due to Emily's bum knee. Emily expects that the shoveling is baked into the hefty cost.)

Tuesday, 1/27, Late Afternoon
Emily: "Phoebe, we're poor now after the furnace purchase. I need you to stop the online shopping for a while."
Phoebe: "We're poor? What?? But my screen name is "RichB****InOakley"...we can't be poor all of a sudden because of some piece of metal s*** that sits in the basement!?! Why did you spend so much?!?!"
Emily: "Jesus, Mary, Joseph! Furnaces are expensive. So are new gutters, front porches, and other fixes that we need to make soon..."
Phoebe: "I didn't sign up for this!! I put on my calm, sweet face for you thinking that I'd have financial security and my own room and lots of long walks and s***. And I don't want to hear that the economy is tanking and that we can't take long walks because of your knee surgery and that we bought this old s***box because it had 'character' and good location. I'm tired of the f***ing excuses!"
(Emily looks beat-down. The doorbell rings and the furnace delivery men leave the furnace, pipes and other stuff on the side of the house. Emily continues working online for several hours.)
Phoebe: "Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door! Somebody at the door!"
(The doorbell rings. Emily lets the temporary furnace installers in through the side door, they remove the old furnace and install the new one. Emily continues to work online. The new furnace starts and blows smoke into the house, setting off the fire alarm.)
Phoebe: "HOLY S***!!! These people are going to take our whole house down, you moron!!"
(Emily and the heating guy turn off the fire alarm.)
Emily: "Frankly, Phoebe, I don't give a d*** at this point."
(Emily thinks for a moment.)
Emily: "Okay, I take that back. I do care, but you - little princess - are gonna have to suck it up and deal with a few inconveniences while I work my a** off this week and pay through the nose to keep a roof over your pretty little head."
Phoebe: "Oh, I see how this is going to work."
(Phoebe thinks for a moment.)
Phoebe: "I'll cut you some slack since I know you're stressed with work deadlines and home maintenance costs. I just need some space right now. I'll be by the space heater."
(Heater guys leave, smoke clears, and Emily and Phoebe enjoy a warm night of sleep.)

Wednesday, 1/28, 2:14am
Phoebe: "Dear God, I don't pray often. Actually, I've never prayed. My mom is a heathen, so she didn't raise me that way. But I turned out okay, hence I'm praying now. In short, I need your help to give me strength of body and soul to support my mom in a time that is quite stressful due to work and house problems. She was rude to me last night and she actually used a curse word. I can't judge, since I sometimes use curse words, but not often, like her."

Wednesday, 1/28, Morning
Emily: "The roads are sucky. I was supposed to drive to freaking Columbus today for an important meeting. I have to call in for an all-afternoon meeting, so you’ll need to stop the barky-bark during that time. I probably won’t be able to participate since I’ll be on mute due to your loud mouth. I have a ton of work to do today, so it’ll be a late night, then I’ll have to drive in for a meeting tomorrow morning, so be ready for an early morning on Thursday. "
Phoebe: “Okay.”
(Emily works online.)

Wednesday, 1/28, Afternoon
Emily: “I can’t hear s*** on this d*** conference call. This sucks.”
(Emily works online.)

Wednesday, 1/29, Evening
Emily: “I have an 8pm conference call, so you’re going to need to keep quiet for once.”
Phoebe: “At least it is warm in here. I’ve taken nice, long naps today.”
Emily: “Just be nice. I can hardly find time to sleep at all this week.”

Thursday, 1/29, Morning
(Emily goes outside to scrape/defrost the car. She comes back inside.)
Emily: “F**********************!!! My Jeep Liberty has a ½ inch ice glaze on it! How the f*** am I supposed to get to Columbus for the meeting today?”
Phoebe: “Don’t panic - how thick is the ice - are you almost into one of the doors?"
Emily: "Yeah, I think if I can melt some ice, the back rear door might crack."
Phoebe: "Heat up a pot of hot water, pour small amounts on the ice and chip right after."
Emily: "This better work, dude."
(Emily puts hot water on the edges of the back door and it finally opens. Emily gets into the Jeep through the back. She starts the car and begins a long defrost process.)
Emily: "F***********! This d*** snow-on-top-of-ice-on-top-of-snow s*** made me drop down and tweak my bad knee. D***!"
Phoebe: "Take a deep breath and let's take a look at that knee. And let's be reasonable...if we can't chip into the Jeep by 9, we'll determine whether you can make it to Columbus today."
Emily: "I HAVE to make it to Columbus, dude. I am carpooling with Doug, meeting up to carpool, and I'm going to be late!"
Phoebe: "Shoot him a status via e-mail. He'll receive it on his Treo. Here, your next pot of hot water is ready."
(Emily manages to drive to the carpool meet-up point, but Doug is still stuck in bad traffic and road conditions. He gets to the carpool point and they decide to turn back.)
Phoebe: "You're back early!"
Emily: "Yeah, I just spent nearly four freaking hours in the car this morning for nothing. And my boss is going to be f***ing pissed. I'd start packing on extra weight if I were you."
Phoebe: "You did a lot of work on the presentation, you can still participate this afternoon over the phone."

Thursday, 1/29, Afternoon
Emily: "Emily is on the line..."
(Emily struggles to hear anything going on in this very important meeting. She puts herself on mute.)
Emily: “I hear a dripping sound. Do you?”
Phoebe: “Yes…it’s the stained glass window. It is leaking down the wall in the dining room.”
Emily: “F*********************. This is f***ing ridiculous. Why the f*** did I buy this f***ing house in the first f***ing place???? There is water coming in this f***ing window, and I paid to have roofers fix this s*** two years ago. What the f*** does an ice storm do to cause this bull-s***?”
(Emily calmly participates in the conference call as needed. She hangs up after four hours of mumble, feeling defeated.)
Phoebe: "Thanks to my excellent sense of hearing, here are my notes from the meeting."
Emily: "No f***ing way! You took notes?!?"
Phoebe: "Yes, but let's keep this between you and me."
(Emily looks through the notes and follows up with the team via e-mail. She has additional work to do that evening online.)

Friday, 1/30, Morning
Emily: “I don’t give a s*** what I look like today. I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans to work after this bull**** week that I’ve had. To top it off, I have a leaky roof and I haven’t heard from the d*** roofers yet, but I have to go in to work for meetings.”
(Emily replaces the towels and pans by the wet wall of her dining room.)
Phoebe: “Be at peace. The roofers will call back. I expect that we need some ice guard on that part of the roof. Perhaps they didn’t do that during their initial repair.”
Emily: “I’m not paying more for this s*** this week. They’ll put ice guard or what-the-f***-ever they need to in order to stop water from running down my already-ruined wallpaper.”
Phoebe: “Yes, they should supply ice guard free of charge, and I will support you in this point of view.”

Friday, 1/30, Evening
(Emily returns home to find that water has ruined her wallpaper on the wall below a stained glass window in her dining room.)
Emily: “Phoebe, I am trying to follow your peaceful example, plus I've had some wine. Once the ice melts from this snow/ice storm, the roofers will return to add rain/ice guard. I do not plan to pay for this service. Do you agree?”
Phoebe: “I agree fully.”
Emily: “We will negotiate a fair deal then, my Phoebinator.”
Phoebe: “Yes we will, Miss Emily. We shall be Team Charek.”
(Emily drinks wine and does lots of toasts to different random things 'in peace.' Phoebe sniffs as usual, eats, goes outside to relieve herself, naps/meditates, also 'in peace.')

My Mailman Is a Killer

Sadly, I'm not joking. Apparently, the guy who used to deliver mail in my area for a few years killed a 52-year-old woman in her home a few blocks away in a suspected drug-related incident. I guess it's hard to think of a government employee living a life like this, and resorting to something like that. I remember seeing a young-ish blond-ish mailman in my neighborhood for a while. He looked like your everyday mailman.

I live in one of those half-townie, half-yuppie parts of town. It is generally safe around here, but we have our one or two token murders on the outskirts each year, usually 'drug-related'.

So - don't worry, mom - I'm not on drugs, I have vigilant neighbors, and I have Phoebe-dog here who will either 1) lick or 2) simply annoy any intruder to death.

In closing, I just wanted to post a warning for any readers planning to attack me:

Phoebe sheds like a mad woman. My friends and family can vouch for the fact that anyone who sets foot on my property will leave with a minimum of thirty Phoebe-hairs on them...just from walking into my foyer or opening my car door...woven so deep into fabric that you'd think someone did a hook-rug on you with Phoebe fur.

And the dander with the fur - stuff you can't even see, but it's there, dude - DNA, baby - Phoebe fur and dander that becomes the fiber of your very being just by looking at my house the wrong way. These skin and hair cells happily traverse wireless, broadband and dial-up connections, so if you're looking me up online, we're already all over that. Consider yourself furred and dandered.

P.S. This 'life insurance' explanation is a great new excuse for not dusting or vacuuming, particularly since the 'ow, I just had ACL surgery' gig was getting stale.