So, I happened to stumble upon this book on sale at Exclusive books this weekend. It was cheap, I had seen the tv show, so I thought, what the ell! It's about 24 hours later. I've read it twice, bought a lot of supplements, and a juicer. Determined, and slightly scared of the forceful little Scottish woman doctor (she is the one who looks at peops 'stools'), I go forth into a new life, a new day. No more coffee, or evil things like red wine and cigarettes. (for the rest of the week - at least) Bring on the cucumber and celery juice (Ideal for combating stress = need it!) Cool stuff from the book:
If the tip of your tongue is red, it means you are under a lot of emotional stress/possibly going through a tough time. (Try cucumber and celery juice. Avo's, sunflower seeds, almonds and cabbage are apparently also very good for stress.)
Aduki Beans - the weight-loss bean. From Japan (obviously) it burns fat and balances the metabolism. (never heard of it - gonna go to wellness and get a year supply!)
Before: So I heard on Wednesday that I was going to Mitchells Plain for a Carling Black Label 'immersion'/tavern/pub visit, with only Cuan for protection. This didn't stress me out too much, until client service told me, it would probably be a good idea to go in the disguise, i.e a hoodie and sneakers, as a blondie had never ventured forth into these places before. I thought maybe this was a bit of an overreaction. So I asked the tea lady, Hadji a.k.a women of infinite wisdom/grew up in 'the real district 6' what she thought about it. She didn't fill me with confidence and made several loud 'wtf you going there for?' noises. So by the end of the day, after many eagerly retold gang stories (mostly from Ross Kemp's Discovery programme on the 28's) I was quivering, a little, in my whitie boots. So I made Morne, a non-whitie, who had filled my head with these horror stories in the first place, come with us, mainly to protect Cuan from the riff-raff etc..
During: So we met our guide/Black label Rep, Justin, and he took us to several football supporters pubs. We met the owners, had a few beers. Then went to a 'tavern'. Which is like a house party in your garage, but you charge your mates (about 30 peops usually) to drink and they come round every single day. Justin did tell us about how bad the drug problem in the community really is, and how the police don't help much, actually just add fuel to the fire. He said in some areas, every second house sells drugs - just to keep a float. Sad. We asked him if people there were excited about 2010? He said not yet, but they will be closer to the time. They plan on putting up big screens in school/town halls. After: Wasn't a big deal at all. Felt totally safe the whole time. Would definitely get lost around there though, bit of a maze. So silly how worked up one can get. Walked to my car with a little less fear and a bit more bounce in my step last night (I park in Woodstock, so the car park I use everyday, is probably more gangster than the taverns I visited anyway.) Then watched the soccer last night, felt a little bit more authentic than usual. (Was great to actually feel proud of our soccer players.) Feel a lot less silly today than yesterday. Good.
So, now that they actually announced a few of the winners at Cannes. Have to say that most of the stuff is really awesome. Perhaps, just a little hasty in my rantings earlier, the stuff I mentioned didn't actually win anyway. So, there is still hope. These are some of my favorites that won. (Hoping they aren't copied/pro-active/been done.) Decided that life is too short and advertising is too unimportant to think like that anyway. Also, makes me feel like a hypocrite. Aren't I just like all those 'naysayers' if I don't just 'like' something for what it is, without having some snide - beendone - remark. Whatevs.
So, you may have noticed that I sold out to Adsense. Glad that they are at least kinda pretty banners. Porn banners would have been more interesting though - might get paid more for those? Made $0.07 so far! Woop Woop! Totally loaded. Not gonna spend it all at once, thinking investing is a wise decision in this financial climate.
Getting totally sucked into the world of Twitter. There is a girl who I 'twitter' 'with', she sits a floor below me, same company. I have never actually said hello to her in 'real life'. Thinking I should go down there with tea or cookies, or something. But, it's a little awkward now. Like when you forget someones name, and it's like the 50th time you have chatted to them. Is this the 'new society'. Where you 'know' people, but don't really 'know' them? I know stuff about her mother and that she made lasagna this weekend (She was weirdly proud about it, pictures and everything) But, I can't fathom an actual face-to-face conversation.
This is ridiculous. I'm going down there!!
If I don't blog again in the next 24hours, send out an emergency tweet, like Perez Hilton did yesterday. (Why do I even know about that? I don't even know him, and I also know stuff about his mother, I've even seen a pic of her! weird.)
So, my creative director is blogging from Cannes. Which is extremely cool and hard to compete with. I am still blogging from lame desk, in lame Cape Town office. Lame. The worst part is he has more followers than me - after about 2 days. Shit. Although - I know this - I have loads of people out there who are far too lazy/busy/hate filling in forms/too arty for that shit/paranoid about putting their info on the web, who do read my blog, but don't 'follow'.
(Proof: They tell me when I see them around, and once at Neighbourhood I was approached by a group of 'fans'. 5+ girls. They were defiantly terribly intelligent types. Definitely.)
Still sucks though. Not as much as not getting freaking nominated for ANYTHING at Cannes. French assholes. (Well, the judges are actually from around the world, which just goes to show that asshole-ism is a global phenomenon and most people suck and dogs are way more reliable) To make it worse (Can you believe this day?) Most of the stuff nominated I don't like - at all. There are also a couple things short-listed that come straight out of a book (cheats) and a whole campaign that is totally copied off an artists work. (stolen) Shit.
A: Am I missing something here? Is it perfectly ok to pillage from other creative types - if they aren't in your industry? = fair game? May the person who uses stuff off http://www.ffffound.com the quickest win? And win, and win and win. B: Screw all those 'pro-active' people who skipped all the client meetings, budget constraints, wardrobe fights, styling debates, temperamental photographer ego stroking sessions, stupid AE questions, 'Client concerns' an hour before the shoot and just did 'cool' work. C: Give up. I'm clearly on a different wave length, and build my own house out of twigs in the Knysna forest and eat only organic things, forever. D: Learn, as Merle says, from this experience and just do work that you like/enjoy/think is totally rad, for yourself. Like you used to. And separate yourself from all this award nonsense. It is just an elaborate money making scheme anyway.
That said: I still really like shiny stuff with my name on it.
Jen : Wow, some of those stories are crazy! Just like advertising in the movies and on TV.
Madmen: What stories Jen?
Jen : Well, a freelancer puked in the edit suite. Someone fell on the dance floor and was bleeding everywhere, there were several near fights on the balcony. AND, the MD spray painted people's hair green. 'Crazy'
Madmen: Why, yes it is Jen. I just need to make a quick phone call. (Phone call: Hi PA, be a sweet-heart and get the video surveillance tapes from last night and fire those people Jen just mentioned. But, do it in a creepy mafia way, so that they can't sue us or get a job anywhere in else. Great, thanks.)
Madmen : Anything else you remember? Not that we weren't observing every move you made last night anyway.
Chatting at lunch today, it was decided that 'white' is the new 'tan'. The tan has been around for awhile, endorsed by celeb's like Donatella, Christina and Ryan Seacrest, with shows like Sunset Tan. But, it's orange, olive, bronzed reign is no more. The pale, barely-alive, malnourished white look is totally the next big thing. Very Renaissance, Marie Antoinette and Little Britain. Throw away your Caribbean Tan. Use that J&J talc powder all over your body. Stay out of the sun. (But still wear you wayfarers, naturally.) Try and look intense as often as possible.
Madmen : Hey Jen, just though we'd have a little chat about the agency party tomorrow eve. You do know, it's not proper for a lady to get drunk in public. Even if she is 'in advertising'. You just leave that 'party stuff' to the big boys, like us.
Jen : Of course, thanks for the heads up guys. You really have my back on this one. I would never even think of over-indulging and drinking all the free booze and laughing loudly or anything crass like that! Hey Willy?
Willy (man with tray) : I totally agree Jen. Another tequila?
So I was really sick over the weekend (Blaming the shit aircon at work) So I watched A-LOT of TV. I watched the MTV Video Awards, and couldn't help but notice that this 'Twilight' thing is rather huge. (And that I have a huge crush on Andy from SNL - I didn't jizz in my pants though, no worries) So I rented it. Watched it. I'm still here. I can understand the obsession. A pity they make 'the hot one' jump around in trees and sparkle in a lame way, this is not sexy. It's like watching music videos really (which I like to do, anyway). The hole 'forbidden', you're the chosen one' thing is a tried and tested formula. I guess if I was 16 and had to choose between High School Musical happy-vain-pom pom-freak-fest, or the angsty-sexy-vampire, who wears wayfarers and skinny jeans. It wouldn't be a tough one.
Then I watched VickyChristinaBarcelona. Thought it was cool and cliched. I hated the just-in case-you-were-stupid-and-didn't-know-what-to-feel voice throughout. I realise this is very 'Woody'. I've read some of Woody's short stories, which are really funny, this voice was too much of a buzz kill for me though. Also, the Americans were dressed so badly, jeez, give them a break already.
So as far as interest factor, have to say Twilight was a far more interesting.
So I've been thinking about the pro's and con's of becoming bulimic.
Pro's : Eat what ever you want, whenever. There are some really lovely bathrooms around. Can look skinny in skinny jeans. Won't have to take a large anything ever again. (except a large coke or chips or something.) Can fit through really tiny spaces. (Handy when in the Cango Caves) It's really easy.
Cons: Your body will hate you. And people around you will hate you. (You'll stink and be skinnier than them)
Thing is, being bulimic isn't cool if you tell other people about it, takes away the mystery somewhat. Will have to think about this one.
Thought these 2 pictures best described my mood today.
Brief Explanation : Feel like a bit of a freak/feel like a cigarette/Would rather be wearing a gold Lycra suit and be on another planet today/Wish I was a movie star from the 20's rather than an art director in the 2000's/
The other eve I met the 'Ponciestest' man on earth. He will now be known as Captain Ponce - or rather: CPT.P.
CPT.P drives a little convertible that he brought back from England, darling. Where, if you believe a word this delusional James Bond wanabee says, he sleeps with every woman he happens to glance at. Yachting and drinking wine from Spain are his hobbies of choice. He chooses not to laugh, but rather say things like 'ra ra' or 'good show'.
CPT.P is not alone. Ponciness has spread from the southern suburbs outwards to the greater Cape Town area and beyond. In fact, I have encountered many poncy types far away from the safety of Campground road. (They did have to use road maps to navigate to anywhere besides, cavendish or the airport, but that's not the point.)
Try use the word 'poncy' in a sentence today.
Suggestions: "No-one cares if you are friends with Prince William on twitter, stop being such a poncy fuckwit." "Your argyle sweater is poncy." "Please call me when you are all ponced-out and/or dead."
After some considerable thinking in the bath last night, I realized that I actually work at Ogilvy, therefore, pretty much everyone here is hardcore. (ref. theory below) So I don't feel that special anymore. Dang.
It's weird, but in 'advertising' there is this reverse form of conservative-keep-up-with-the-Jones' peer-pressure system. (i.e Pressure to rebel against anything classed as 'conservative' or 'main -stream' or 'gender based discrimination'.)
Which got me thinking, isn't it actually way more rebellious then to be uber conservative? Like get gangster and knit your own scarf. Or get crazy controversial and go to church on Sundays. Or talk about how much you would like a house with a garden and a dog? Better yet, wear something candy-floss pink that you knitted/sewed to Assembly Friday night, but go home early because of church in the morning and you left rusks in the oven. This is a good example of my rebel-against-rebelling theory. Which, if you think about it, is actually the most rebellious you can possibly be, in an industry as super cool as advertising.
By this theory, I have to say, I am by far the most hardcore-west side massive-rebellious-gangster-ad-woman I've ever known. I like to sew, bake, play with dogs, cuddle babies, baby clothes, don't drink shooters anymore, would choose to stay home and watch a good movie with my good man most eves, etc. I feared revealing any of this to my close arty-farty-actress-freelance buddies initially, until this theory dawned on me, and now I fear no longer, I stand tall.
So, I think I will begin blogging again. I need to find some more meaningful things out there to write/think/talk/laugh about - again. Hopefully these things are still about, even if I haven't noticed them for awhile. There must be more to life than army tents full of drunk Stellies students who blast 'Liewe Lulu' at 3am for fun. I don't mind things that have no-meaning - and that is their meaning. That is actually pretty meaningful. Like this picture.