Stuck

So in addition to a 2,500 piece mailing arriving tomorrow, collateral for an event this weekend, one proposal, one email, one e-newsletter and 3 press campaigns, I need to come up with wedding-themed ad copy. And I got a whole lot of nothin'.

I've toyed with every possible twist on the old "something old, something new", thought long and hard about the unique selling proposition of my client's product and the stage in the buying cycle in which these readers will be involved, stared at pictures of products for hours on end...

Nothing.

My intern starts on Monday. My brainpower needs to start much sooner than that.

But ahhhhh, my intern starts on Monday.

This Month Has Been Brought To You By..

...well, absolutely crushing deadlines, for starters. Had to attend a gala in Baltimore yesterday, raced there and back, stuffed envelopes until 3 am, then up at 7 to start a crazy day. It seems that a reprieve will not be coming anytime soon. That a client just asked if I'll have wifi in the hospital, and if not, if they can pay for it would be a pretty clear indication, methinks.

But the other thing: Elbows. It would seem that bebe has about 50 of them, all of which are put to use on a continual basis on my innards.

It (Elbow) is also the name of the band my husband saw on Sunday at Sixth & I. And they are amazing. Their latest CD, The Seldom Seen Kid, was just given **** by Uncut (which I know because I got my husband a subscription for Christmas in a move that singlehandedly made me the Greatest Wife Ever).

Anyhoo, they're awesome and you should check them out (the band, not the 800 daily jabs to my liver).

Why I Love My Job (Saturday Edition)

...because I spent the early part of this morning trying on a $520,000, 5 carat ring whose classification started with VVF.

I forgot to ask for a loaner for tonight's parties, but next time...

Today's Lessons

1.) Just because Pucci stretches doesn't mean you should necessarily WEAR it when you're 9 months along, lest you look like the centerfold of Lactation Quarterly Magazine*.
2.) If you don't have time for a blowout, avoid cameras at all costs. Ponytails + photographers = very very bad.
3.) When you find your ideal pose, stick with it.

Carry on...

*=LQ Magazine and its ancillary properties copyright LJ, 2008.

Greetings from Columbus

...and just as I'm patting my own back because things are going extraordinarily well and I get all cocky about it, it just as quickly goes to hell.

It could be worse. I could be in Columbus, Ohio. With no wifi, no way to send attachments to press due to the worst hotel internet service ever, and a hotel restaurant that simply cannot master A Beginner's Guide to Making Belgian Waffles.

Oh, wait...

At least it's a beautiful spring day, my cousin will be in the most gorg Romona Keveza dress ever in 24 hours, and I've dropped my pregnancy card to convince husband that really what's in order right now is a mani, pedi, facial and blowout at the only decent spa in town.

Have a great weekend!

One more thing...

...since I'm up printing the forms RIGHT NOW:

There will be giveaways for $200 gift certificates for Lucy and Ginger, as well as coupon books good for just about every shop in the row.

See you there!

Hot Architect

I know it's HBO. I get that.

But dear lord, Thomas Jefferson, even with teeth rotting out of his head: yup, still completely effing HOT.

Frustration in the Dressing Room

So I just got back from Day 1 of the trunk show and Hoooleeee Krap. The stuff is gorgeous. The kind you put on and think, "Ah, that's right, the nice clothes ARE better." And the prices for them are actually reasonable. Like Cusp-level pricing. But the quality is SOOO much better than your normal off-the-rack stuff.

But then I tried to zip it up. One piece after another, creeping up one size up with each try. And dammit, yes, I have a basketball in front of me and cannot wear normal people clothes. I just have to admit it and move on. I'm have maybe a week left in Pucci size 42 and then it's sweats from here on out, I think.

But you should definitely go. And get something for me.

There will also be pink cupcakes

I ordered 30, though by the time I get there, I'm thinking that about, oh, 24 will make it through the door...

Cue The Oboe

Leaving the corporate world (almost 14 months ago now!) to delve into my profession full time has been a long, drawn out series of fits and starts. Like everyone who has ever flipped to consulting ever, I landed a few big clients, thought "HA! This is easy!," only to have my salary sliced IN HALF (yes, that's a lot less Pucci in my life) while working 80 hour weeks trying to stay afloat.

And then you think you've got it all figured out, only to find yourself taking jobs that you know you shouldn't because you think you can handle it or you need the money (or you get cocky and/or greedy) and lo and behold, they're not worth the time and effort and you don't do a great job anyway because you're overwhelmed.

But little by little, it's all started to come together. Good days and bad days turned into more good months than bad, and then at some point, I don't even know if I could pinpoint when, it just happened.

This week-ish was like a symphony. I can't even begin to tell you how many events I'm juggling right now (oh wait, I can: it's THIRTEEN), plus normal retainer work and strategy for fall and wait that needs an email to go out and NO pulling an image off of a website is not high enough resolution and what? an event in seven days?? and crap that client doesn't like that ad and holy bejezus am I ever pregnant and...

...and yet. Somehow, even with having to stay up until 2 am for the past 10 days and being as big as a house, it somehow all worked out. Really well. Fingers crossed that the next 10 are just as good.

I guess it's just like the fact that your hair always looks INCREDIBLE the day before you get it cut. Because in somewhere between 30-45 days, an intern and, more importantly, a BABY, are coming into the picture, and who knows how it's all going to turn out then. Again fingers crossed.

If this came with a custom time machine, I'd be all set.

I love her stuff. And I'm all about custom ANYTHING (even my bathroom paper guest towels are custom. Yes, obsessed)...

Still here...

Today started with getting a call that my mother may have had a heart attack. Actually, it didn't start that way, it started with a delicious cup of coffee.

So she didn't. It was a combination of her taking medicine like I took drugs in college--a haphazard decision based on how she's feeling that day, what's there, probably some marketing thrown in ("Oh, Lipitor commercial, I haven't taken that in a while..."). So that combined with her body heartily, resounding saying in the best way possible, "Hi there--so, um, eff this chemo, okay? I think we've done all we can do with it here, but thanks," gave her some symptoms which equaled a trip to the ICU.

So by "best way possible," I mean that the tumor has dislodged, and her chemo has surpassed expectations. So no more of that, on to the surgery, then radiation. Then hopefully it's all over. Today's symptoms are gone, she's getting discharged tomorrow.

The day is ending with me forging 283 documents. And doing a smashing good job, being that it's 12:30 and I spent every minute not on the phone with my hysterical (as in dramatic) sister in meetings.

Na-night!