This Post Is Pretty Much Just Videos

... because words don't quite describe how great things are right this second.

This is me right now:



Totally happy, with exactly zero fucks to give.

Why? Because 2012, the year that shat on my chest after eating at a questionable taco stand, now finally feels over. I know it's June 2013, but it's taken this long to clean up that whole mess. Today, I can say:

• I just got paid by two clients whom I had been waiting on forever.
• I'm gainfully employed and officially start full-time on Monday.
• The house is securely in my name only, and I'm on a mission to destroy its mortgage.
• I got a judge-approved divorce order. D-Day becomes official in a couple weeks.

And so I say:

And:

And:

And:

(As you can see, my happy place embarrassingly resides in the pop culture wasteland of 1990 - 1992.)

Have an awesome weekend - I know I will!

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An Update For Those Who Still Accidentally Come To This Site

Heyo!

So, yesterday, my dog ran away. WHY DO ALL THE BOYS LEAVE ME? The back gate was somehow left open, I hadn't noticed, and Huck bounded out to freedom while I was inside - eating, n'est pas. When I glanced out the window and saw the gate, I just about died and did one of those silent screams you only have in nightmares and dreams about making out with your gross old boss. 

I ran outside without any shoes on and ... thankfully, Huck was only at the end of the street. He was running his happy little heart out toward me while an old man - clearly spooked by a goofy dog on the loose and convinced Huck was coming for him - beelined to the other sidewalk, swearing in Greek, and nearly tripped in the process. If I hadn't been so overwhelmed with losing and then finding my dog within the span of 30 seconds, I probably would have laughed at it all - because there is nothing quite as funny as old people tripping Huck in a moment of joy.  

If I had lost Huck, at least there would be a solid Plan B to turn to: There is enough shed hair in this place to build another dog. It's so gross ... and, yet, still so much better than cleaning the bathroom during my married days. I won't expand on that further. No, wait, I will: 

In any case, I've added another DIY level of security to the back gate, making it a little harder for this to happen again. I think.

Anyway, since you last saw him (unless you follow my All Huck All The Time Instagram Feed!), Huck has managed to gain an amazing 24 pounds in two months - which is astounding because his diet only consists of kibble. And my sandals. And any and every shred of paper in the house. And that bottle of green food dye that I didn't notice he had until I walked over to my wool carpet and saw that it looked drastically different. 

Sigh. Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she made puppies - being way too cute is their best defence against being murdered.

Whereas Huck has been packing on the pounds (but still looks pretty skinny ... bitch), I've been slowly losing them. I've been downgraded from Marineland Attraction Fat to Season Eight Chandler Fat. Hurrah! Still a ways to go, but I hope to one day take a picture of myself smiling while holding out the stretched waistband of the tent pants I used to wear. That same day, I think I'll also wash my hair in a waterfall and put gum in my mouth by bending it on my tongue:

So, yeah, there's that.

I've shifted from sticking to freelance work to now actually looking for full-time opportunities. I'm hoping within the next month or so, I'll have found the right fit. I love freelancing, but waiting to get paid "whenever" vs. having a steady paycheque has become a little too much of a struggle - plus there are some things I've applied for that would be really cool to do, so we'll see! I've updated my portfolio site at Jennifereve.com (yes, it still needs a bit of work) should any of you fine, random people of the Internet know someone in Toronto who is looking for a writer / marketer / communications / self-depricating type - pass it along!

I'm also officially one-year separated from ___________ (fill in your own blank! I did!), which means divorce proceedings are now just a matter of the court getting to it ... and how long that will be, I have no idea. But it's definitely something I'm looking forward to so that I can close that sad sack chapter and move on. I had thought about making a big blog post about Then vs. Now, what's changed since then and what hasn't, but .... meh.  For now, I just don't really care. Oh, for sure, there are things that I'd like to and will probably talk about - particularly some lessons learned from that marriage and divorce that hopefully others can avoid, but I'm not ready or willing to drop those beats yet. 

But in all, I feel pretty darn lucky to have what I have in my life, starting first and foremost with family and friends. I had a visit from my folks a little while ago and, man, did I ever win the parent lottery. I think I need to convince them to write a book about how to do what they do, because the world needs more of it. Seriously, all problems in life can be solved by Joe and Marie in a five-day visit.

Ok ... that's it for another two months. Or not. I do hope to get back to this just-for-fun writing stuff in a more consistent way, if only for an excuse to look up animated gifs - like this one!:

See ya!

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"Brain-storming"

Here's a fun picture I found in the 1948 career book, How To Be A Successful Advertising Woman by Mary Margaret McBride:

"One agency technique of developing advertising-copy themes and merchandising and promotion programs is through idea-sessions, sometimes called "brain storms." The rule in brain-storming is absolutely no criticism. Anything goes. Nobody says "But that wouldn't work," or "How silly!" Try it yourself. Get a gang of your friends together - concentrate on a single problem. Watch how one good idea sparks another, how that sets off a third - and before you call it a day you may have some original and highly effective thinking on paper."

Anyone else out there believe that the people who are adamant that "there are no bad ideas in a brainstorm" are the kind of people who exclusively come up with horrible suggestions? (Based on their expressions in the photo, I think the plump brunette and the annoyed blonde on the right agree with me. That is the look of people who have just heard a stupid idea. Trust me, I am sadly VERY FAMILIAR with those glares.) Under normal conditions, the contributions of the unimaginative would be Darwin'ed out of contention, and so they use this weird brainstorm rule to swaddle their ideas in bubblewrap and trot them on stage as if we were all at a body-positive open-mic poetry slam and not at a business meeting.

Jen's Jerk-off Opinion of the Day: Crappy ideas shouldn't have a safe place.

I'm not saying we should attack ideas mercilessly (in business, be kind! Always!), I'm just saying we shouldn't pretend they're just as valid as a really creative / thoughtful / strategic suggestion. If there's an obvious problem with an idea, shouldn't that be pointed out before the team dedicates any more time to it?

What do you think?

Also ... don't you love it that in the picture above, "brain-storming" was still new enough to have quotation marks around it? Remember when they were so foreign to us that we had to use quoties around "web site" and "viral video" and "Spanx"? Aww ... those sweet, slimmer days of yesteryear.

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What The Hell, Dude?

Remington Rand ad
from the January 1953 Charm

That was the subject line of an e-mail I received from a blog reader who wanted to know what was up with the lack of food pictures and overly sentimental fawning for the oldy times on this amazing space on the Internet.

There are a few well-known bloggers who have taken steps away from their public spaces because of things like divorce, death and depression.

My absence is because I lost my goddamn mind:

I got a full-time job.

What the HELL, dude?

I know, right? It kind of came out of nowhere. I was minding my own business, freelancing without a care in the world, when BAM! Full-time employment.That's really how it happened, sound effect and all. I was freelancing for a Toronto ad agency for ten days, told the CEO that I should probably work there forever, she agreed and said that was her secret plan all along, and all of a sudden I'm wearing pants with a zipper and getting up before noon on a regular basis.

What the HELL, dude?

It did not hurt that I'm basically the most awesome employee ever who is oozing with talent. Well, that, and the CEO is a former boss of mine and someone that I'm good friends with. Heh. Welcome to Nepotism. Population: Me (And My Friends and Family).

What the HELL, dude?

Eh, that's getting tired. Enough of that. So, yeah. Not only have I been working full-time, I've been working, like, double full-time. The agency is so swamped with work that I clocked 270 hours at the office in March, which is basically the sort of thing that happens right before a person runs into the street naked and starts pounding their hands in the pavement. Or something.

But as I've gotten the hang of the role, started to make positive changes in the department, and knocking things off the clients' lists, things have been much more reasonable lately. While working at an ad agency is never going to be a 9 to 5 gig, I feel like things are normalizing.

And y'all know I don't "do" normal.

So, as long as I don't regularly end up staying in the office until 10 PM, I'll be embarking on a supremely flawed lifestyle experiment to compliment the 50s Housewife Experiment:

The 50s Career Girl Experiment!

Eee!

I've been collecting oodles of books, magazines and articles that deal with working women in the 1950s, and it's time that I shared all this horrifying marvelousness. I'll attempt to follow career advice, business etiquette, marital advice, home keeping advice, and fashion and health suggestions that were given in the 1950s for "the girl with a job".

It will be all kinds of wrong as I'll still be living in the land of laptops and cell phones, but I'll do what I can to explore the decade's advice and put it into practice. And, naturally, because of the industry I happen to work in, there will be a somewhat annoying desire to label what I'm doing as "Mad Men'ing" ... but, eh, if the shoe fits ...

It'll be a little while before I put everything up here and set the experiment up officially, but I hope to share fun snippets and crazy tidbits here and there while I get this latest gong show rolling. And here's one to get us started, from the introduction to The Executive Secretary: Techniques for Success in a Secretarial Career by Marilyn Burke (1959):

What the HELL, dude?

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Goodbye, AdSense. Hello, Alphabetty.

A few months ago, I decided to test out AdSense on my blog. It sat there next to my posts and embarrassingly promoted "related" content like erectile dysfunction pills, Obama coin collections and Acai berry weight loss miracles. You know, all that good stuff that I'm known to write about ad nauseam.

Anyway, SURPRISINGLY no one was clicking on the ads and I was tired of seeing them, so they're outta here. Plus, I'm not big on using my site to promote stuff ...

...except stuff like ME!

* Tired of having to think?
* Is the boss making you update that darn website again?
* Do your fingers trip over themselves when using those frustrating keyboards?

Then you need a Snuggie freelance writer!
* Compact!
* Whisper Quiet!
* Space Age Design!
* Affordable!
* Marketing, writing, PR - all in one!

Heh.

But, yes. I'm finally getting around to promoting Alphabetty. I have samples of my work up if you want to take a look (although some of my really good stuff isn't there - I've had to sign some non-disclosure agreements for a few clients that don't want others to know that they've had to contract out their clever.). Since I work from home, I can pretty much be hired by people all over the place, not just Toronto ... so ... yes, please do exactly that, visitors from the interwebs, hire this girl! The *magics* of my writing, like the type you're reading right now, can be yours - learn how today!

Ugh - self-promotion. Back to the self-deprecation, says I!

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So Close, Yet So Far Away

Sunday was a sad day for my lazy cohorts of the city. The TTC, at the last minute, found common ground with its workers, and their union opted not to strike. The media naturally spoke of it all as a miracle and that "Torontonians are breathing a sigh of relief."

Uh, no. That sound was one of sulking and self-pity, actually. As mentioned in blog entries past, TTC strikes, in my neck of the social woods, are rare get-out-of-jail free card. No transportation = no going to work = patio, patio, patio. And as most people know, patio patio patio = a blissful neighbourly mood, even among the usual Toronto a-holes. Days like transit strikes are as close to a Magical City Moment as we can get (without the awesomeness of the entire eastern energy grid imploding on itself) and that horrible little union took that hope away from us.

Even though I don't even take the TTC anymore, I feel very wronged by the whole thing.

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THE SECRET ...

... to being slim and cute ...

Ha - for a second, Jacquelyn was going to press the Comment button and continue her daily rage about The Secret - the world's lamest "new-age" trend. Alas, that is not what this post is about.

Today, we celebrated a birthday in our office in the only way North Americans know how to celebrate birth - lighting waxed items on fire and placing them on sugared, baked goods. In other words, a birthday cake, for all to enjoy.

So, anyway, I'm munching away ... lalala, bliss bliss, forgeting the hell that is my existence, eat, eat, eat ... when I notice that the office sprites, two young, exceptionally slender, cute girls that remind everyone of enchanting wood fairies except that they have a flair for marketing (and one of whom has a blog and appears now and again on MTV), have left half their cake behind. The good end, mind you, the awesome ass end. If for some reason you are filled with crazy and don't understand, this is end I speak of (many thanks, again, to Paint, the light of my design life, for making this graphic possible):
So ... looking content (or trying to look content, I can't tell), they stand up, ditch the beloved cake ass into the garbage and leave the room. BLASPHEMY. For me, eating the cakey part is practically torture. I trudge through it, saving the icing caboose as a reward ... you know, for all my hard cake-eating work.

And this rationale, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am the blessed "curvy" size that I am.

Sigh.

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Cursed

So ... I recently posted about how work was less than stellar but that a new hire had the potential to change that. He was going to take about half of my work and bring some much needed experience and competence to our team.

He quit today.

No notice. No warning. He just won't be back, ever. Another place he had interviewed at took their sweet time in deciding who to hire, gave him a call today and told him to start tomorrow. This likely means that we won't be finding someone to fill this role until the new year and we'll just have to continue to make due with our thinning shreds of sanity.

Now, I get that people need to look out for themselves in their careers - but at what point do you actually take responsibility, stick to your commitments and not fuck people over? When will karma catch up to these wankers? Can I be there to watch?

Le sigh.

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The Clark Kentification of Technology

The other day at work I had to plug my digital camera into my computer to pull off a couple of pictures for our graphic designer. Once done, I stared at the screen looking for that little "remove hardware" icon.

Me: "Do you see that thingie that I have to click on before I can unplug the camera from the computer?"

Graphic Designer: "Hmmm ... no ... weird. "

Me: "Hmm ..."

We both sat there staring at the computer not sure what to do next.

Me: "Maybe I'll just unplug it. "

Graphic Designer: "WHAT?!?"

Me: "Well, we can't just leave it plugged in forever - and it's not even giving us the dumb thingie. Maybe it's safe."

Graphic Designer: "Your call, man. Your call."

Silently, cautiously, I stood behind my computer and put my hand on the USB cord that connected the computer to my camera. The designer and I looked at each other in a moment of scared tension. His eyes said "don't do it" but my mind was made up. I pulled the plug. We both leaped to the devices - he to the computer, me to the camera - looking for signs of life. Both were fine. Some 1980's hero music suddenly swelled, we hi-fived and went out for a Budweiser.

How ridiculous is it that we we warranted in our fears? Many a person have destroyed their iPod by detaching it from the computer in mid-charge. The heart-stopping "fatal error" message PCs slam in your face after just a few misclicks and mis-yanks of a devise have stressed out and provided ulcers to countless.

I remember the days when I used to turn off my computer with it's on-off switch. No shutting down, powering down, or safe mode garbage. Just flicking the switch - one minute I'd be playing Burger Time, the next minute the computer would be sleeping. And the computer didn't mind! When you'd start it back up, it didn't give you a bitchy notice of having improperly turned it off followed by a hypocondriac-esque checking of all its systems to see if anything was wrong (and making damn sure that you waited and worried with it).

I bet those computers from the 50s were super hardy too. You could probably toss one into a flatbed of a truck, go 4x4'ing and plug it back in and it would still be as happy as a clam. Bigger than a refrigerator and only able to do one Grade 5 math problem an hour, but at least it could take a shit-kicking - or in the least - handle being unplugged.

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