Sad

So I was out walking the dog today and as ever she decide that she only wanted to pee on the postage sized triangle of grass between the highway, the basketball courts and the main road. Then having peed she set about sniffing and came across what looked like two discarded CDs. Interesting. Closer inspection howvere showed that they weren't CDs but DVDs. And interesting DVDs. The first featured a claimed four hours of hot transsexual sex whilst the second proclaimed itself a 'bisexual bonanzo' that promised '8 hrs of non-stop action.'

And I have to say that finding them made me sad. The disposal of both DVDs in such a desolate spot just seemed like such a furtive act. It seems to reek of shame, of guilt, of self-loathing. I can imagine the walk to the spot, the glance around and the quick flick of both over the fence and to anonymity. There's a determination not to be traced - it didn't go in the trash, to be recycled or any place that might lead back to the owner.

Yet this person, this man, obviously bought the DVDs. How horrifying an act must that have been for him? To have to stand, in line, trannies and bisexuals in hand, money at the ready (you can bet he didn't use a credit card) and wait as the guy on the till rang up his order, slipped it into a brown paper bag, determinedly avoided eye contact.

I wonder whether our furtive buyer surrounded his purchases with other - less specialized - titles? Titty Slickers or Black Booty in a bid to look less 'perverted'. I was once told by a newsagent friend that men who buy porn usually also buy chewing gum. It makes the porn purchase look more casual they think. More of an afterthought. She said taht it just gave her a mental image of them furiously masticating as they were furiously masturbating. All spunk and saliva. But I digress.

I wonder whether he actually watched the movies - or whether he was consumed by a self loathing that had him throw them away before he even got them home.

And I wonder whether the titles were evidence of a genuine kink or a half-way house toward homosexuality? It's a very hispanic area and I think that it might be more acceptable to have a thing for trannies than a desire for dick. But then, what do I know? For all I know the guy has watched and watched and watched. Surrounded by partying trannies and off their tits bisexuals, his mother in the corner making more rum punch and his gay lover, Jorge, laughing as they casually throw in another DVD and throw the other out of the window to a baying crowd.

Still it was an interesting find - and it did make me sad. Just like the showers in the old Virgin business lounge at Heathrow that carried the heavy air of a thousand business men's grubby self pleasure - it had the grubbiness of shame attached.

Maybe Jeopardy will make me less melancholy. I hope so.

I love the chrysler building

chrysler
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

it's lovely...

... and deserves to be more famous; perhaps it needs a lovelorn monkey of its own... or an observation deck for diabetes sweet celeb' couples to finally admit their love against a backdrop of New York night... but it's magestic

Of course when you go inside it's a different story - too many security people, tiny elevators, cramped office space but then it was always meant as something to view from the outside rather than from the inside.

Got my scans back and it seems I'm both clear and boring.

Jude arrived in Stockholm - where her friend Hannah has just become Dr. Hannah and is being gently roasted as I write.

The burning skin is today much better - should be back to normal by Monday and ready to jump back into work proper. Looking forward to it.

The problem with an open plan office

office space
Originally uploaded by neffin1.

is that you get to see all of the pettiness, mindlessness and passive aggressiveness of the nasty little girls who make up your colleagues.

We moved to open plan today

I had my first 'you're too noisy' complaint within 82 seconds

And left within 4 mins

A quick shot to the spine

high key insanity
Originally uploaded by elTwitcho.

Went to see my doctor about my 'burning skin' sensations and was rewarded with a flouroscope, a shot to the spine and a very cool picture of my inflamed vertebrae (count down seven discs and ouch marks the spot)

Marvellous.

Had a conference call at 7am this morning - so needless to say I slept like a baby (woke up every 2 hours crying) and am now knackered. Hardly ideal as I have to go and be impressive in front of an audience of cynical Brits this afternoon.

To spite them I shall use only Amrican spelling in my presentation and pronounce the 't' in 'Water' as a flat 'd'

I shall also claim to be 'dehydrated' rather than 'thirsty' - that should be the clincher.

Here's hoping that I don't fall asleep before they do

Scary Food

skully pannacotta 2
Originally uploaded by chotda.

I was supposed to be in London today.

Which would have been good for the airmiles (I need all I can get);

Good for me personally (I wanted to be in Sweden on Saturday for my birthday and a friend of Jude's graduation - London to sweden costs $1.50 return on RyanAir)

And good for work (everyone is there)

Instead I have this strange burning skin sensation, a doctor's appointment, a week alone with the dog and a 7am conference call.

The work thing is pretty cool at the moment. 'cause I'm looking at how and why our relationship with food is messed up

- we're afraid of what's in it
- we're afraid of what it will do to us
- we're afraid of how to prepare it
- we're afraid of our feelings towards it

We're at a stage where good food is signified not by what's in it - but by what's missing from it (no transfats, no hydrogenated oils, no sugar, no fat, no taste, no interest)

And we're quick to make food the enemy.

We have 20% of girls 12-15 willing to take laxatives as a diet methodology. We have 7% of people willing to trade a lifetime of breakfasts for a lifetime's supply of morning cigarettes. We have kids with microwave ovens in their rooms.

I'm trying to find out how and why we got this disfunctional. To find out when bi-polar behavior (I'll suck on icecubes all day tomorrow so that I can have tiramisu tonight) came to be seen as balanced eating.

To find out when gastric bypasses became heroic.

To find out how, where, when and why we f***ed up on food.

And I have somebody else's money, address book and clout to help me do it.

It's gonna be fun. Just as soon as the pain stops, the doctor's clear me and I'm good to get on a plane again.

Liberty

mamaliberty
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

i seem to have nothing but Dutch people on the blog today. And that's good by me but I have to wonder 'where are they all coming from?' Has somebody told them that's there's free bread, cheese and cold cuts to be had here? Have they mistaken it for a sight that sells fabulous lighting? Or perhaps for a site that fights against the evils of curtains.

I love the Dutch. My wife is Dutch. Her mom is even more Dutch. They wear clogs (klompen?) out to the garden, claiming that it's safe. They sprinkle chocolate (flokke?) on their bread in the morning. Then eat more bread for lunch. They invite people over in the evening not realizing that in the US a 7.30pm invitation is usually an invitation to dinner. And they laugh like well tickled drains at people falling down, stepping in dog shit and generally being idiots on any of those Home Movie Clip Shows.

Still, if you are Dutch and you are here - perhaps you could comment and let me know where you found the address. It will solve a little mystery for me

Lexus men Chase women

kphwoar
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

More tennis, more tests, more miraculous recoveries for Agassi and weird, prickly, symptoms for me.

I do have to say though that the 72 and a half gallons of spiked barium like contrast solution that you’re forced to drink before a CT scans went down shockingly easily yesterday. I wonder whether it’s addictive? I could see myself as a contrast solution junky, forever coming up with more and more desperate ways to get my hands on the liquid.

CT scan went well. We followed it with a river borne tour of the island which was rather ruined by a guide who was both imperious and narcissistic. Worse though he tended to run his words together so that all we heard was

“andonthatveryspotamanamanyouknowamanwithlegsamanwitharmsdidshoothismotherdead…you will neverseethelikesofthis town again”.

Weirdly he felt New York inappropriate, I’d have loved him had it been a Chicago gangster tour. Still I was more than a little glad to see him getting NO tips as we left the boat. “Oh-the-places-we-find-pleasure.”

Two sponsors of the US Open Lexus for the guys and JP morgan Chase for the women. Easy way to remember - “Lexus Men Chase Women”. Of course they don’t, because they’re a million years old but it’s a handy reminder.

Sadly the new Lexus ad’ only serves to strengthen the fogey image of the Lexus driver. It’s a nice idea – what happens to tennis balls after they’ve taken part in the open? We see them used as door stops, as pet toys etc. and then we see the ultimate (“Most exciting”) use which is to be suspended by wire from the ceiling of a Lexus owner’s garage at a height that it will touch the rear window as the owner backs in. Saving said geriatric from ramming the back wall. A nice idea but one that has me asking “Are Lexus drivers really too old to turn their heads? Too crap to use their mirrors? Is the car blighted by blind spots and poor outward vision? And why doesn’t a $50,000 car have rear parking sensors; you get them on a $15,000 Mini”

Jude’s mom leaves today – weather permitting (it’s WINDY) here today. It’s been good to have her – though I do wish we had a second bedroom (or a second bed) for people visiting. But as bon host it’s my duty to buy the pastries and make the coffee. So I’ll bid you adieu here.

Life in the cheap seats

Feeling very odd today. The slightest touch of either my stomach or my back gives me a pins and needles meets sunburn feeling that really is most off-putting. Even the light brush of my shirt against my body is enough to set me on edge. And I have to say that I don’t like it.

Wondering whether this new symptom is related to the fact that I have a CT scan tomorrow – the mind playing tricks that the body falls for. Whether it’s a random thing, a drug response or the first symptom of the onset of something ravishing, rapid and deadly.

My weight is up and down like Liberace’s spring loaded cock (a sign of water retention) and my temper is shorter than a Spaniard’s ‘to do’ list.

Should be seeing my doctor on September 7th (my birthday) but there’s real pressure from work to be in London 6th. 7th and 8th. I’d refuse to go – citing my health coming first but that might jeopardize my job and with it my health insurance; jeopardizing my health to an even greater degree.

My Clash Problem (should I stay or should I go) continues. Where I am offers security but no money and a lack of respect that Rodney Dangerfield would have found astounding. The two other possibilities? One has the healthcare I need but visas I don’t want, the other a Visa I want but healthcare my doctor won’t take. Catch 22. Squared. Bugger. Having one foot in the grave really does limit one’s options.

Anyway Agassi on in just over an hour and not a pan on the stove or a bottle uncorked. I’m offski.

More f**king rubbish

Went to the tennis yesterday and was amazed at how many of the players seemed, from the right angle, to be missing a finger. Must be a 'cock your little finger just so' school of thought in the Russian filled tennis academies of Florida.

Day started wet, ended warm and saw a Billie Jean King tribute (Diana Ross - or a facsimilie of her made out of discarded hair and shiny plastic) 'sang', McEnroe mugged, Connors looked uncomfortable and Chris Every tried to look feminine but not anti-lesbian. Marvellous entertainment.

Wish we'd had night tickets for Agassi, but we did see the splendidly monikered 'Mardi Fish' - a right old sourpuss too.

Work chugs on. We closed the office today (we're moving down two flights) and will be out until Tuesday - hurrah and huzzah!

Escape plans continue to be formulated and dashed with 40s war movie regularity.

And my favorite watch - a Breil Ducati thing - all black rubber and red trim was stolen from my wrist. Or fell off. But that's hard to swallow - it was a year old, in perfect condition and a one piece strap. So I'm going with nicked. Had it on in the Starbuck's queue, didn't when I got off the subway home. Most upset.

anyway a bunch of theatre types coming over to watch a subtitled black and white belgian video installation piece about destruction and beauty. have to make myself scarse.

Cat on a dishwasher

18light
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

Yup, I've joined in the 'punning on the title but not seeing the movie' sensation that's built up around the 'is it out yet?' Snakes On A Plane

It's Sunday
It's raining
It's cold (22C)

We've all been indoors for a couple of days
And Jude's about to leave for school

Still lots of snubs at the Emmys tonight and US Open tickets for tomorrow

So maybe we'll have something to say then

Happy viewing

Yesterday a very nice man came from Time Warner to fix up a HD cable box to our lovely Sharp Aquos TV. He was on time, polite, competent and patient. The new TV is now producing pictures better than we've ecer had and we're paying less for more channels, many of which are in stunning (and stunningly wide) HD.

I bought the TV while Jude was away - it's multisystem; so it will go wherever we do and work with whatever bits of kit we buy and it's rather nice. Jude was disappointed with the size at first (she's wanted 6 more inches?!?!?) but I'd done my geometry and knew that 26" was the perfect size for the 'living room' we've carved out of our loft space.

Not much else happening. The rain is falling and the temperatures dropping (last night dropped to 18C - brrr), my scans are due next Friday, my cough has abated, my underwear is ass-blood free and all is well with the world. Time I think for archery class.

Burnt (burned?) Out and Angry

Over the past couple of days I've been, accurately, described as 'burnt out' and 'angry'... I've also been offered a new job and seem to have tickled more than the fancy of another prospective employer. Strange how I can come across as a hollow shell of a man to some and a vessel full of light to others. The truth of course is that some situations depress me (travel to eye wateringly expensive cities against the orders of my doctors, being seen as billable rather than useful, futile work that proves effort but provides no momentum) and others invigorate and energize me (conversations with smart people, a shared sense of purpose, systems that trim fat rather than pork up timelines and fees).

The truth is that I don't know whether I'm coming or going. An offer of employment that gets lost in the mail is either a sign that the US Postal service isn't all it should be or a cosmic sign that all is not right with the offer. I'm turning into Jackie Stallone, Dionne Warwick and Nancy Reagan - offering up lamb's livers for divine readings. Very odd.

Of course I'll be offering up my own liver for oncological reading soon - my 3 month scans are due Sept 1st. How time flies. I could be 1/8th through my expected life span or three months into a total and long lived recovery. I'll be happy when my ass stops bleeding (a painful tale, believe me)

Again an unpleasant place at which to stop and another abstract moan into the void of cyberspace (is it still called cyberspace or do I have to talk blogosphere these days?) - more tomorrow.

I like lodges

There's a restaurant near my house called Lodge. It has acrylic antlers and waif thin waitresses with under arm tattoo-ing. Nextdoor is the Lodge general store - which bakes its own bread and sells things that are bad for you with labels that make them seem good for you (ORGANIC chocolate spread) and then there's Lodge212 - good people who do good work and seem to have fun doing it. I like them best of all. And so I've decided that Lodges are the future (oh dear I'm coming over all Faith Popcorn) - that the laid back, wood panelled, hint of manly musk in the air life is for me. Now where is that 'lumberjack' shirt?

Golf Clubs

bandaid
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

I've been accused of owning golf clubs... I don't; but my wife does. I did of course try to learn to play golf, taking lessons in Australia - but that was more in the hope of seeing an in-town Will Smith than actually mastering the tricky game.

I did however watch a golf movie last night - The Greatest Game Ever Played; which was just predictable enough for my (not English as a first language speaking) mother in law to follow post two glasses of white wine and just entertaining enough to stop me from throwing another shoe at the TV.

Started a proper diet today - the weight has been creeping on for weeks now; so it's time to really grab the cliche by the wotnots and start on a regime so punishing it would make a dominatrix weep. I do enjoy punishing regimes - there's something about denial that brings out the best in me - said he sounding very Karen Carpenter.

Work continues to be an 18hr a day marathon with no distance markers. But I have days off Friday, Monday and then Thurs, Fri, Monday so it'll be short weeks.

No more beer pitch to worry about either. So all I need now is a quick global strategy on a tricky brand, a dual language blog with 6 country participation, a panel of 100 experts willing to talk at short notice, an academic symposium and for Harvard to agree my long term research proposal. By Thursday. Easy.

Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!

All very strange

18feet
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

Took this just the other day. Seems that somebody didn't want half a mannequin anymore - and threw it away courdroy trousers, socks and all.

In what's become very familar these days I'm waiting on the DirectTv repairman to come on over. It's the 3rd scheduled visit. The first guy buggered everything and promptly left.

The second didn't even show up.

And this guy I'm told will both show up AND fix everything.

Like Thomas and Starr Jones I have my doubts. Still I switch to Time Warner HD on August 25th - so I'm a happy bunny.

Jude's mom also arrives today. Yesterday was spent clearing out closet space for her. We finally admitted that we had too much shit for one open plan space and hired a large cage downstair to handle the overflow (books, a TV, golf clubs, extra hi-fi equipment). I can finally say that we are American - having succumbed to 'excess' in the worst way.

Our justification is very American too. We may, one day, have more money. This would mean a bigger house. A bigger house would have room for more stuff. Therefore throwing away out current stuff would be in opposition to our American Dream - an admission that it IS only a dream.

Not much else happening. I went into Babeland the other day and was greated with stares so icy my external organs all withered away, frost bitten. How was I to know that the 'voluptuous' counter assistant was demonstrating the joys of the double ended dolphin to the giggling Japanese lesbians? Jeez next time I'll make an appointment.

And on that slightly vague yet strangely graphic note I shall leave you.

OMG

18velcrosaville
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

The dog is turning into Jimmy Saville

Early Start

Testify
Originally uploaded by Linus Gelber.

6.55am and I'm waiting on my first conference call of the day. It's a five hour jobby with London and I'm not entirely sure that either my phone battery or my will to live will hold out until the projected midday finish.

Met somebody for lunch yesterday at 'English Is Italian' - an Italian restaurant headed up by semi-celebrity chef Todd English. I chose the place but it REALLY wasn't me at all. All big and fake plush and unneccessarily hushed. Good ice cream though - summer corn, chocolate and raspberry.

Prior to that had dinner at a japanese place that was VERY Kill Bill. Weird to eat on your own money in the same way that you would on an anonymous expense account (though I do tend toward the frugal when I know that somebody who doesn't get to go out for dinner is going to have to approve my costs) - we just blew through the menu, ordered more, then more still and threw in an extra helping of ridiculous for good measure. Fun though to be with people who know my company and the people I work with - yet who aren't part of the machine.

Anyway already taken two calls whilst writing this. Off to talk about the potential power of food.

Say hello, goodbye

abibrainstorm
Originally uploaded by stevenjude.

Abi helped out on a brainstorm for Knorr (one of my brands) before leaving for a new life and a new client in Amsterdam.

I've done a lot of 'hello, goodbyes' over the last few years and I really wish that I'd photographed everyone 'in situ' - I tend to categorize people by where we most often / first / most memorably hung out together.

There are trees in New York that remind me of certain people, beaches in Sydney, streets in Singapore, sofas in India and all manner of weird inanimate objects all over the UK.

Perhaps I'm strange - or perhaps I'm on the verge of a 'breakthrough memory system' a la Paul Daniels in the mid-80s.

Who knows.

Still knackered, my mood still weirdly dark and still angry at DirectTV (the guy who was supposed to come today just didn't bother. Instead he filled out a bogus work docket from his car and buggered off home without even ringing the doorbell)

We have a new compamy providing all of our televisual needs as of the 25th of August.

Enough blather however. Work woes I will pile on tomorrow; but first a quick catch up with Project Runway.

Auf Wiedersehen

Angry!!!!

Coup de tête
Originally uploaded by Seb*.

So the Satellite repair man arrived 4 hrs late and 8 stones overweight.

He huffed, puffed, sweated and groaned his way up to the fifth floor then said "there's nothing I can do."without even looking at the issue. (he realized, I think, that the dish was on the roof but the switch box was in the basement)

I begged him to take a look and he roughly pulled at some wires. The screen went blank. The signal died. He packed up his bag.

"When you arrived I had a TV picture", I said using fact as my weapon, "Now you're going to leave me with nothing?"

"Not my problem." he sweated "Call the office"

And he left.

I called the office. They didn't have a customer complaints dept. Or a customer service department. Or any supervisors. Or any humanity. They insisted I went through a million repetitive hoops and then they said "we'll send out another guy in a couple of days."

"Can you guarantee it won't be the same guy?" I asked

"No." they said

"Can you tell me that this one won't be a useless, fat, sweaty oaf?"

"erm, nope."

"Can you promise me that this guy will at least look behind the TV?"

"I can request that on the docket"

And so on and so forth for hours (I had to plug in my phones)

So we have a new guy coming tomorrow - and doubtless I have 'problem customer' against my name. I just want things fixed.

Haven't been as frustrated since the 'missing Viagra' incident of '04

Ooooh narky

So yesterday my mood was darker than an Arab plot to steal the world’s lightbulbs.

My credit card was used to open 30 internet porn sites – and I still don’t have access to any of them. Nor do I have a functioning card.

My Satellite connection went down, meaning that I had to choose between watching the finale of Hell’s kitchen and the semi-dénouement of Treasure Hunters. Ramsey won by a ‘camp head’ but I’m still kicking myself. The guy was supposed to be here between 8am and 10am; at 8.15 he called and said 12:00 and 3pm. If he doesn’t make it by 3pm I’ve arranged to switch to cable and they’ll be here by Friday.

My conversation regarding new jobs, fresh horizons and the like hit a familiar speed bump – work permit. It’s a long story and lawyers are ‘hopeful’ but I’ve been here before and can feel heart sinking.

My oncologist called, to arrange first scans in September. I started to cough immediately and now can feel huge lumps in my ‘Thymus.’ The thymus is sold by butchers as sweatbreads. Lovely. Will have dates soon.

Am spread too thin (‘too thin’ and me have been strangers for a while now) and sleeping too little (no wonder Thatcher went doolally) and flying too much – though I’m going to try video conference for the first time this week. I hope it works.

What else, what else? Working, along with the rest of New York on a big beer pitch. It’s the same old problem – ubiquity leading to invisibility. Nudity is only interesting in context – spend six weeks at a ‘nudist colony’ and it loses its power.

Anyway am trying to dial in on a conference call but the number keeps putting me through to a woman who offers me hot singles in my area. Very odd. Must get that sorted.