Aldo Chilla Chella

I have a Facebook "friend" (read: ex-coworker) who should be gracing the pages of Hot Chicks with Douchebags. In his photos he's always surrounded by scantily clad women whether it be "après ski" (as he states) at his house in Aspen, hanging out cocktails-in-hand on a boat après wakeboard at his lake home in Austin, on the deck at his new beachfront abode in San Diego, dining al fresco seaside in Ixtapa, etc.

Status updates, complete with spelling errors, include (but are not limited to):

• Traveling...Peru (Manchu Pichu), Colombia, Argentina, Brazil, Patagonia, Aruba, Equador, Costa Rica...and have to fit in Mammoth, Aspen, Whistler, Teluride, then Russia after the snow melts!...who wants to meet me where?
• hmmm, where should I go 4 xmas break...Russia, Costa Rica, Argentina, Brazil, or Colombia?
• Invited to 3 holiday parties on Dec 5th...Austin, San Diego, and Seattle...can I be in 3 cities at once? where should i go?

Why do I mention this? I clearly want to be living his life (hot chicks not required). The worst part: he wasn't exactly known for his stellar contributions to our old company. I need to figure out how to ride the wave on someone else's buck! He is living proof that it can be done.

Fascinating stuff. 

Just today, in the not-so-subtle art of giving oneself a compliment while pretending to help another, he wrote this recommendation of a well respected, driven, insanely smart co-worker on LinkedIn: " . . . is a gem. I hire and mentor the best of the best when I build teams and she is on the A-1 list."

I agree. She puts the sizzle in the steak.

Kick ass life complete with hubris. The Situation would be proud. Very, very proud.

You're in New York, but I'm not.
You're in Tokyo, but I'm not.
You're in Nova Scotia, but I'm not.
Yeah, you're everywhere that I'm not!

Calling All Morons

I get annoyed every time I hear the line "If she can do it, anyone can do it!" at the end of the Everest commercials. I'm trying to figure out who is insulted more: the presumed idiot that somehow made it through their illustrious program or the program itself.

I can just picture their crack marketing team in an intense (a.k.a. completely fictitious) meeting with the admissions department.

"Our numbers are down year-over-year and we need to increase enrollment significantly. Can you help us put together a winning ad campaign that will drive results?"

"Sure, just give us a demographic/psychographic profile of the typical student and we'll do the rest."

"That's easy. Target anyone who doesn't think she has a rat's chance in hell of success and convince her that our program will radically improve her life and land her the high-paying dream job as a Certified Medical Assistant."

"How?"

"By coupling her with a mentor who cares."

"No, I mean in what alternate universe does Medical Assisting pay well?"

"Oh, gotcha. Yeah, picture a teen mother on welfare. Does that help?"

"But won't it cost these kids significantly more than a two-year degree at a local community college?"

"We're trying to get these morons to enroll; not educate them on what constitutes a wise investment."

"Done and done."

(Note: As my mom rightfully pointed out, I'm sure Everest has really helped people to better their lives. I just think that line in their advertising is horribly insulting.)

2010: The Year I Began to Believe in Miracles

I decided recently that I don't believe in miracles enough. Sure, I read about the big ones, like raising people from the dead, in the Bible and hear about more current phenomena through friends (e.g., an acquaintance's miraculous healing from stage IV cancer) but I haven't really allowed myself to believe that they can happen to me. So I decided to dedicate 2010 to the art of discerning the real miracles that occur in my everyday life.

The first book I read this year, Either You're In or You're In the Way, was the perfect backdrop to this mission. As it states on the Miller Brothers' website, it's "the amazing story of how--without a dime to their names nor a single meaningful contact in Hollywood--they (identical twin brothers) managed to write, produce, act, and direct a feature film in under a year starring four-time Academy Award-nominated actor Ed Harris and a cast and crew with 11 Academy Awards and 26 nominations."

It's a well written account not only of how their dedicated effort, hard work, long nights, constant struggle/worry, etc. paid off but, more importantly, how the universe conspired to bring them the right people (e.g., actors, financiers, door openers) to help them make their dreams come true. It is truly inspirational,  highly motivational and basically unreal. It is not by any stretch of the imagination a book about religion, faith and belief but, because I am who I am, I read it and thought, "God is amazing."

Now I simply need to gain a broader understanding of the role that God plays in my life and to be more thankful for his presence. Oh, and securing a role with Ed Harris would be fabulous.

Bring it on 2010!

Let it Snow Let it Snow Let it Snow

The good news: it's warmed up since yesterday.

"A Watch Doesn't Really Go With This Outfit, Daddy"

Today's New York Times contains an article by Steve Lohr, A Data Explosion Remakes Retailing, which discusses how retailer Wet Seal introduced an online feature to their site last year called Outfitter which:

• Allows users to put together their own outfits online, post them for others to browse/comment and exchange recommendations
• Has generated more than 300K user-designed outfits and millions of page views

The December 24 edition of the New York Times: The Year in Style printed an article by Eric Wilson, Bloggers Crash Fashion’s Front Row, that began with the line, "NOT everyone thought it was adorable in September when a 13-year-old wunderkind blogger named Tavi was given a front-row seat at the fashion shows of Marc Jacobs, Rodarte and others."

Reading the two articles made me think that somewhere in this high-tech confluence of avatars meets user-generated content (e.g., blogging, tweeting) meets the backlash against suburban mall ubiquity, wouldn't it be great not only to allow ordinary teenagers, or anyone for that matter, to establish themselves on the Internet as style mavens (ranging from couture to consignment) but also to monetize it through a common technology platform? In other words, little Jackie O., or today's version of Cher Horowitz, could write a fabulous blog about her elegant, teen life in the debutante fast lane and pull together sensational outfits from myriad retailers -- well beyond Wet Seal -- so that other little Jackie O'lookalikes across the country could benefit from her fashion sense. More importantly, by driving traffic to the retailers, little Jackie O. should also make a buck or two in the process via a virtual revenue share agreement that could possibly grow with her relative popularity and, accordingly, the volume of sales generated.

Maybe this is already possible and I'm just not in the know; however, I still see more blogs with non-revenue generating links to external sites coupled with the traditional banner ad advertising model. The time may be ripe to bring it up a notch and make the clothes come to life.

Life is a Cabernet, Old Chum

Me: What do you want for dinner?

Son #2: Can we have tacos in a can?

* * *

Son #1: Give me the remote. You don't even know what you're doing.

Son #2: Don't incomplement me.

Son #1: Dude, the word is insult -- not incomplement.

Son #2: See? There you go again. Mom! He's incomplemating me all the time.

* * *

And now, in the midst of the end-of-break mayhem, the hubby is leaving to play in his jazz band at the Little Cafe as I host a sleepover with a couple of Son #1's little friends who are already glued to the Xbox, hyperactive and picking on Son #2 who keeps screaming/whining, "Stop killing me."

Hello wine glass. Whatcha knowin'? I've come to get this vintage flowin' Ain't ya got downtime for me? Do do do do, feelin' groovy.

Happy 2010

After pulling my first all nighter in years (for work lest you think otherwise), I stayed up past midnight again last night (crazy, I tell ya!) ringing in the new year at home with my family and our neighbors. We played "Truth or Dare" with challenges that the kids made up and emceed like we were on a game show, and then the adults played a fun little board game called Loaded Questions. Generally benign questions like "what are you grateful not to be doing right now?" elicited written responses ranging from "work" to "shi&#ing my pants" or "paying attention" and whoever's turn it was had to guess which player had written each golden nugget. You learn a lot about people when drinking sangria and playing board games, I've discovered. Or maybe they learned a lot about me. The dad from across the street kept editing my responses when he had to read them. "I didn't write 'concubine,' I wrote, 'ho.' There's a difference."

For someone who hates the typical forced conviviality of New Year's Eve, I haven't laughed so hard in ages. If it's any indicator, 2010 should be a magical (and seriously off-color) year.