emotional spandex

It's the evening we look forward to all year... the office holiday party! Who will pass out in the bathroom? (sadly, no one.) Who will make inappropriate comments? (um, everyone?) Will I actually get to eat this year? (prime rib. yum.)


Anyway, a fine time was had by all. Great space, great music (Look, Ma, a real band!), and a bunch of us from the agency stormed the stage and performed a not-so-impromtu set of tunes. We called ourselves "Pitchin' and Moanin'." Otherwise known as "Emotional Spandex."

Don't Ask.

The band in rehearsal.

I think this should be our album cover.
"She Hates Me."
Me and my fan club.

I'm sure I'm making some really good point.

Probably singing some Elvis Costello tune.

Strike

I know I'm way behind on posting. Life has been so ridiculous since I've been back in the US. I forgot how fast we move in NYC. My body rebelled, finally, last week in the form of a nasty stomach bug that flattened me for three days and hung around for a few more. Although, personally, I think it was overkill. My body could have just left me a voicemail.

As everyone in the free world knows, NYC was plagued with a transit strike this week. Three days of no buses or trains. Incredible how crippling it was. Through it all, most people demonstrated an incredible capacity for "sucking it up" and getting on with life.

The subway station near my office.

I came up with what would eventually be revealed to be a flawed plan. I had a rental car to get myself and a co-worker out to NJ for a client meeting, but I couldn't get past 96th street. So, I headed uptown to pick up my friend Michael and two of his friends. Flawed. We found ourselves hopelessly mired in the gridlock that was Manhattan.

Me, still cheerful after 3 hours behind the wheel.

It was an experience worthy of a Seinfeld episode. Conversations ranged from our jobs (advertising, broadway) and politics (hate George Bush) to tv (Super Nanny) and the strike (hate it!). Five hours later, I arrived at my meeting in NJ. Late, but with a humdinger of an excuse.

My chariot.

Day two was not much better. This time I picked up three "hitchhikers" along Columbus Ave to get myself through the checkpoint. It's so weird having a two-hour conversation with complete strangers. I'll never see them again, but I'll never forget them.

Day three I gave up and stayed home.

I Want My Mommy

I'm so sick I want to die.

Feeling Charitable?

The holidays are such a crazy time of year: gift shopping, holiday getherings, work-related functions. Who has time for anything else?

For any of you who have been meaning to make some charitable contributions, here are a few ideas I've heard in the recent past that I thought were kind of cool...

** If you have suits hanging in your closet that are a little past their prime, Dress for Success will take them off your hands. This organization provides suits and other professional clothes to low-income women who are interviewing for jobs.

**Ever wished you could run a marathon but are too busy/out-of-shape/sane to train for one? Why not contribute to a marathoner's training/charity fund? My roomie, Joanna, is running a marathon on behalf of the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society.

**Want to help rebuild New Orleans? Click here for good old-fashioned hurricane relief.

**If you're like me, you probably have a drawerful of toiletries stolen from hotels around the world. Did you know that local shelters would love to have them? Ditto for cell phones, baby clothes, and even prom dresses!

Many contributions are tax-deductible, so it's a win-win! Give til it hurts people.

Life Behind the Mirror

As in life, advertising is about multi-tasking. This week was one of the wackiest. I was all over the place: market research, black-tie cocktail party, rock & roll jam session. Who's life is this?

Interviewing neurologists. ZZZZzzzz.

The only thing missing is the m&ms.

RCW house band: Pitchin' & Moanin'

Retrieving Delilah

During my trip to Japan, my pooch Delilah was spending time in the Philly area with my Aunt. She had a great time visiting her "cousins" (the other pets in my extended family) and running up and down Aunt Joan's Stairs.

Over Thanksgiving I went to pick her up to bring her home. I was really worried that she wouldn't remember me. Luckily, that was not the case. I found her happy, healthy, a little scruffy, and if possible even more adorable than when I left her.

And they call it puppy love...

Thanks for abandoning me, Mom.

Delilah with Aunt Joan and friends.

Two hot babes and a hot car.