St Patrick's day today...
Which means green beer, crowds of drunken swine and a sea of watery green vomit flowing down through the gutters of the city.
It's also the day that my brother's baby (hopefully to be named Sugar Walls) is due
Scans Tuesday and Wednesday of next week - Chemo IV (revenge of the revenge's revenge) on Friday
A blog that started as an info site to help people keep up with my cancer treatments and has morphed...
Friday, March 17, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Oh my giddy aunt
After the inactivity forced by my cold and the attendant mucus, dire warnings of infection (and we all saw what happened to Dana on ‘The L Word’ this week) and a need to sleep 18 hrs a day I’m finally back at work. And busy. I’d describe it as a ‘giddy flurry of activity’ – if I was a 74 year old harridan from Harrogate, but I’m not and thus I won’t.
Tuesday was a 6am start (I’d forgotten about rising before dawn) and a quick blast up a familiar road to Tarrytown – where a two day client training course in need of my moderating skills awaited. Of course two other agencies sent planners – and they sent people with real careers. Quite what happened to my career I’ll never know. Splendid as both ‘proper planners’ were they seemed no more able than I – yet they command vast planning empires and more enormous salaries, whilst I languish in squalid anonymity, commanding not even the clout to order pens from the man in the cupboard downstairs and worried about the spiralling cost of Velcro's 'Oooops I poo'd bag'. It’s actually quite shocking the potential I’ve squandered over the years – and what’s more shocking is that I’m not quite sure how. There was a time when I was really good at what I did and yet… never mind. In the words of Mother Teresa ‘Fuck It’
Anyway client day went well – terribly bright people having very interesting conversations and then finding all that they did blunted by the tools, forms and formats that they’re forced to use.
One example – all were accused of being ‘too linear’ in the way they approached filling in a key form. Well yes… BUT the form was numbered. It was a form full of numbered boxes, given that people tended to start at ‘1’…
Such is corporate life (said the man working for the ad equivalent of ‘the man’)
Tonight was a ‘cocktail party’ at SoHo house. The New York SoHo house is much more glam’ that the UK version – though fewer minor celebrities can be spotted doing coke of the lavatory cisterns. I guess it’s a trade off.
Said party was thrown for David Lamb – a man with whom I loved working and moreover loved listening to. My favorite David quote came at the US Open Tennis Tournament where a very overweight Jennifer Capriati was glued to the baseline and losing badly. In crystal clear tones that cut through the stadium David cried,
“Jennifer, think of the net as a buffet… and rush it.’
I swear I saw her tense.
I didn’t want to lose David as a colleague and had I not had one foot sinking quickly into the grave would have attempted some kind of switch to the world of Diamonds (where he now works) in a bid to maintain some contact. As it is the diamond team is quite strong enough. But the idea of diamonds being a solution to the romantic inarticulacy of men is one with which I’d love to play.
Good to see colleagues past and present tonight – though I really ought to make myself some kind of T-Shirt that says ‘It’s not a look, it’s chemo.’ – the explanation gets tiresome after a while and I find myself veering into brutality in the way I deliver the information. People deserve better than that.
Oddly I’ve just received an e-mail from a ‘futurologist’ who wanted to know what I have under my sink. She’s asked me this before. It’s bordering on obsession I think. To the point that should she ask again she may find her entrails joining my recycling bin and old carrier bags.
And on that note, I’m off to bed.
Tuesday was a 6am start (I’d forgotten about rising before dawn) and a quick blast up a familiar road to Tarrytown – where a two day client training course in need of my moderating skills awaited. Of course two other agencies sent planners – and they sent people with real careers. Quite what happened to my career I’ll never know. Splendid as both ‘proper planners’ were they seemed no more able than I – yet they command vast planning empires and more enormous salaries, whilst I languish in squalid anonymity, commanding not even the clout to order pens from the man in the cupboard downstairs and worried about the spiralling cost of Velcro's 'Oooops I poo'd bag'. It’s actually quite shocking the potential I’ve squandered over the years – and what’s more shocking is that I’m not quite sure how. There was a time when I was really good at what I did and yet… never mind. In the words of Mother Teresa ‘Fuck It’
Anyway client day went well – terribly bright people having very interesting conversations and then finding all that they did blunted by the tools, forms and formats that they’re forced to use.
One example – all were accused of being ‘too linear’ in the way they approached filling in a key form. Well yes… BUT the form was numbered. It was a form full of numbered boxes, given that people tended to start at ‘1’…
Such is corporate life (said the man working for the ad equivalent of ‘the man’)
Tonight was a ‘cocktail party’ at SoHo house. The New York SoHo house is much more glam’ that the UK version – though fewer minor celebrities can be spotted doing coke of the lavatory cisterns. I guess it’s a trade off.
Said party was thrown for David Lamb – a man with whom I loved working and moreover loved listening to. My favorite David quote came at the US Open Tennis Tournament where a very overweight Jennifer Capriati was glued to the baseline and losing badly. In crystal clear tones that cut through the stadium David cried,
“Jennifer, think of the net as a buffet… and rush it.’
I swear I saw her tense.
I didn’t want to lose David as a colleague and had I not had one foot sinking quickly into the grave would have attempted some kind of switch to the world of Diamonds (where he now works) in a bid to maintain some contact. As it is the diamond team is quite strong enough. But the idea of diamonds being a solution to the romantic inarticulacy of men is one with which I’d love to play.
Good to see colleagues past and present tonight – though I really ought to make myself some kind of T-Shirt that says ‘It’s not a look, it’s chemo.’ – the explanation gets tiresome after a while and I find myself veering into brutality in the way I deliver the information. People deserve better than that.
Oddly I’ve just received an e-mail from a ‘futurologist’ who wanted to know what I have under my sink. She’s asked me this before. It’s bordering on obsession I think. To the point that should she ask again she may find her entrails joining my recycling bin and old carrier bags.
And on that note, I’m off to bed.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Ask your Doctor if WobLeX is right for you
Time to update the blog again – but with what? This cold has taken so long to shake and left me so utterly and totally wiped out that most of the tales that I have to tell are tales of Rip van Winkel like sleep marathons and ‘wobbly leg’ syndrome.
Actually all I need is an acronym, a celebrity spokesperson and a sugar coated pill and I could make a fortune with Wobbly Leg Syndrome.
‘Do you wake up in the mornings? Do you get breathless on stairs? Do you sometimes get tired in the mall? Does the idea of your completing the Iron Man Triathlon seem ridiculous to you? If so then you may have Wobbly Leg Syndrome. Millions of Americans suffer from WLS… but you need suffer no more. Thanks to WobLeX. WobLeX is a revolutionary new drug that can address or sometimes even relieve some of the partial symptoms that you think you might possibly have. Ask your doctor if WobLeX is right for you, he'll write a script immediately. Side effects often include weight gain, weight loss, nausea, rectal bleeding and tired, heavy legs”
I tell you throw a celebrity chunkester (chubby but not fat, heaven forfend) at it and we’re rich.
I’m feeling much better today. Still waiting on approval for my scans – will follow up on Monday. Check (cheque) in the mail (post) to the villa people. Ready for action here.
Actually all I need is an acronym, a celebrity spokesperson and a sugar coated pill and I could make a fortune with Wobbly Leg Syndrome.
‘Do you wake up in the mornings? Do you get breathless on stairs? Do you sometimes get tired in the mall? Does the idea of your completing the Iron Man Triathlon seem ridiculous to you? If so then you may have Wobbly Leg Syndrome. Millions of Americans suffer from WLS… but you need suffer no more. Thanks to WobLeX. WobLeX is a revolutionary new drug that can address or sometimes even relieve some of the partial symptoms that you think you might possibly have. Ask your doctor if WobLeX is right for you, he'll write a script immediately. Side effects often include weight gain, weight loss, nausea, rectal bleeding and tired, heavy legs”
I tell you throw a celebrity chunkester (chubby but not fat, heaven forfend) at it and we’re rich.
I’m feeling much better today. Still waiting on approval for my scans – will follow up on Monday. Check (cheque) in the mail (post) to the villa people. Ready for action here.
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