Wednesday, March 16, 2011


Ok, guys. This is what I look like, clearly:

These are the people I've been compared to:

I used to get Julia a lot. Seems pretty loose to me. I mean, we both have brown hair (at times) and brown eyes. Don't get this as much now.

I also don't get this one. But in fairness, the guy who SWORE I looked like Sandra was a little crazy.

My sister thinks I look "EXACTLY" like Rosamund.

My friend Audra thinks I look just like Rachel McAdams.

Ok. THIS one earned 9,000 points for the guy who told me this. Audrey always wins. And the best part is, he has NO interest in impressing me.

This is the most recent comparison, Emily Blunt. I'm down with that, also.

But, in reality, I think I look the most like Carey Mulligan.

What do you think?

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Dressed in coffee bags

When I was in college, I had this job where I made coffee. Every day. For hours. I would grind it. Brew it. Serve it. Refill it. Rinse and repeat. All of our coffee beans came in these cool burlap bags. I always admired them and then we'd just throw them away.

On my last day in the office, I had a brilliant idea to make a skirt out of them and stole a bag with a tree frog on it. (You know I love me a tree frog.) BUT.


I never did anything with it.

The idea, and the burlap bag, just sat there. Through jobs. Through moves. Through trends.

And then, for some reason, this:

I finally made it.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Conversations at a Coffee House

Octogenarian: "You guys writing a screenplay?"

Boss/Business Partner: "Excuse me?"

O: "Are you screen writers? You know, here for the festival?"

B: "Oh. Uh. No. We're just here doing some work. Planning. Talking about..."

O, mumbles: "If she were my wife, I'd listen to everything she had to say, too!" (grabs my arm briefly)

Boss, uncertain -- exactly -- what he said, makes some kind of joke.

The old man, feeling that the environment is safe (his test was successful) and he's not going to be taken out by a younger man, grabs my arm a little bit longer, a little more aggressively and pulls. Makes some other joke about having me around or my looks.

B: "You in the film industry?"

O: "Oh no. I'm worth about 2 billion dollars." (Glances at me.)

B: "Oh. Really?"

O: "I'm in the coal mining business."

B: "Good business to be in?"

You'll notice, that so far, he's been flirting with me THROUGH ANOTHER MAN!

O: "Well, I made my first half million that way. Then I struck gold. Made my first billion. Then found more gold. Made my second billion." Looks to me, pointedly, "So I have money."

Me: "Haha. Let's talk!" (Not sarcastic enough, I think.)

B: "I'd love to talk to you! What are we doing here?"

The Octogenarian, somewhat less than amused half-heartedly laughs, mumbles something, and wanders away (to come up with another plan of attack).

O, coming back: "Ok. One more thing, if you only had one vacation left in your life, where would you go?"

Clearly, I can't answer "St. John" or "Hawaii" or "Europe." Even "Australia" seemed too risky. So I go for one of my immediate top 3, ambitious enough for LAST TRIP OF MY LIFE: "Antarctica." Nothing says romantic interlude like that, right?

O: "What?"

E: "Antarctica."

O: "Antarctica??" Looks at boss questioningly and says, "And you?"

B: "Africa."

Of course, the Octogenarian brushes that off, looks at me and says, "How about Elko?"

E: "Elko... Nevada??"

O: "Yes. Nevada." Looks at boss: "There are gold mines," looks at me and points, "and whorehouses."

Yes. The whorehouse it going to seal the deal. You're pulling out the money shot, because when ACTUAL money doesn't work, prostitution always does. I'll pack up my stuff right now. See you later, boss!

B: "Gold mines and gold diggers! I'm with you. If she doesn't take you up on it, I'm climbing in your car right now."

O: "Well, I have three sons and they're watching EVERY DIME!"

The conversation petered out from there. When my boss got up to get some food and I was alone for a minute, the man came back for one last shot, "Does he beat you with that baseball bat?"

E: "I beat him."

And therein lies the end of his dreams. Poor man. Poor me -- literally. I'm second-guessing my role in life. Thinking about getting "Gold Digging for Dummies" and trying again.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

This is why I do what I do.

This is what marketing, branding and strategy are all about. I get emotional every time I watch this ad, for so many reasons. This is what the job is about. This is perfection.