March 2010 Archives

It’s official, my sister is getting married.

And although I’m not so sure how she’ll feel about this little online announcement to the UNIVERSE, I’m going to be THAT PERSON, and lay it all out there. Because this is exciting and I NEED TO TELL EVERYONE. I mean why keep it a secret–Why keep BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS when I have the INTERNET at my finger tips?

So… when she asked me to head out to our parents house for some necessary planning, I threw the kid in the car and did what I was told. But then our Mom surprised us by pulling out Nana’s wedding dress — which not only fit my sister — who is gorgeous, by the way (just in case you needed to know), but also sent us to the world of 1939 to when she was married… And just what are we going to DO ABOUT IT? Well we are going to drink wine, lust over the antique fabrics and decide to turn the headpiece into a necklace OF COURSE. I mean REALLY. And what would make Nana happier? The queen of the accessory…. the reason beads were invented…the spark that ignited it all.

Did I mention that I was excited?

In the spring of 2005 my former design studio was in the midst of a new business partnership–And about a year into it, things were going very well. I managed all aspects of design while my partner handled most of the business side and website programming. We were approached by a Client, one that we had previously developed an ad campaign for. Although he was a builder by trade, he had a grand idea–a new publishing venture– a new Hamptons based publication. This was to be a glossy but sophisticated glimpse of life on the East End of Long Island… The beauty and artistic nature; the earth’s core of what makes our location so unique–beyond the fame, night clubs and society parties. It was a great idea, but it wasn’t just a project — it was a whole new company and it was up to us to recreate this vision.

“That’s that Hawaiian burger joint. I hear they got
some tasty burgers.“

And
so we set off… A small group was formed and–considering that none of
us had any experience in such a start-up–meetings were ridiculous.
Topics ranged from font sizes to distribution to what’s for lunch–Hey
someone call and get us a table for dinner… drinks, laughs…. There
was nothing very serious about what was going on — except that someone
was beginning to spend unthinkable amounts of money. There were city dinners,
Hampton Classic Tables, meetings with minor celebrities, random gifts,
parties… You name it. Personally, I stayed out of most of the
debauchery.. not my style, but what I saw happening was grandiose, and
we hadn’t even published an issue yet. Admittedly, I turned a blind eye
on the spendatures… I was being placated with visions of success. 
Never ending dollars–someone, somewhere out there was funding us. 

“Mmm-mmmm.
That is a tasty burger.“

Upon
the publishing of our first issue (Memorial Day 2006), my business
partner very suddenly decided to take his exit. We had been moving at a
fast pace, and I know things in his personal life were changing… but
we were right there — on the threshold of what we had been working so
hard for. Before things became unpleasant, he told me that he would be
happy to stay in the partnership but could not be associated with the
owner of the magazine anymore and therefore couldn’t have anything to do with
the project. He then went one step further to insinuate that he had
attempted to sabotage the whole operation by not completing the
publication’s website in time for a nationally televised plug on a syndicated morning show. Horrified, I resented him immediately and requested his
departure. There were some legal dealings for a few months, and then he
was gone. I immersed myself, once again, in the creative development of
the next 8 issues, collateral and other projects of the design firm.

“But
I do love the taste of a good burger. Mm-mm-mm.”

A
few issues in — things were looking good. Advertising was a stretch,
but we were gaining readers so the owner decided to up the distribution
to include NYC and scattered Barnes & Nobles from Philadelphia to
Boston. He also started making hiring and firing decisions on a weekly
basis as well as salary increases. Money was still being spent like
there was no end… and I continued to not question where it was coming
from–Honestly, I had an idea, but didn’t really want to know. Mostly women were hired and referred to as “the gals at the
office”… Along with this came rumors of the owner’s various infidelities. He
had become a friend, however, so I dismissed ideas that this “family
man” was capable of such behavior. After much discussion, a proposition
was verbally offered to me — make my design firm part of the overall
magazine in exchange for lofty partnership shares in the company as
well as a top tier executive role… I mean we were going to be picked
up soon by Time Warner or Condé Nast for a few million, right? “Where
do
I sign?” “Oh – the contract is being drawn up… let’s just get
started running your financials through the magazine on Jan 1 to avoid
tax problems” “Oh, Okay.”….

I’m not one of those people
that runs outside to see upon being told that ‘the sky is falling’…
Thing is that I had a business partner going into this whole thing
and really didn’t like running the design firm on my own. I thought I
had thought it through — and I sincerely trusted this man.

“You
know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France?”

I continued to not only direct, design and layout and occasionally edit every issue
that was going to press, I was also managing clients that the design
firm catered towards… it was too much. I asked for help, but funds
were becoming tight, what with the Christmas party coming up and all.
There were major politics at hand– cut throat… people being thrown
under the bus on a daily basis. It was all consuming. It was so
consuming, in fact, that I can’t remember
very much of what was happening in my personal life at the time. At
some point I renewed my passport, went on vacations–blackberry in hand,
and… early in 2007 became pregnant. My husband and I  — our
families, everyone was ecstatic. I did the whole waiting thing — not
telling anyone at the publication until I had made through the
first-tri to the safety zone…  

“A Royale with
cheese.”

Around
the same time as my exciting personal news, the publisher was let go
due in fact to his alleged marking up of printing costs, reimbursable
expenses and, in short, embezzlement. A new publisher, formerly a sales
“gal”, decided to push editorial and creative to focus on fashion and
NYC– not so much local… And the owner had, in fact, left his family
life and had taken up with a newly hired editor — another gal from the
office. I do not claim to be a saint–far from it actually, but I was
caught up in a whirlwind of disgusting behavior. I decided to, once
again, turn a blind eye and work until the baby–then retire…
But
wait, people were not getting paid. Why stay?
But wait, he has my
company.
It
was a Friday in April and I requested a meeting with him… Still no
contract, fashion, crazy egos, and by the way I’m pregnant… He
replied “you are the last of the Mohicans… I’m not doing this
without you.”
A nice hug, so proud — happy for you and yours… Later that same day,
he called to yell at me about the website not being finished.. I
explained that our programmer was up to his ears in Client projects…
projects that were making us money. He accused me of mismanagement and
suggested that I resign. After a good cry, I called and asked his
office manager to let him know that he could expect my resignation on
Monday. Apparently, she handed him my message on a post-it. He then
denied ever suggesting such a thing.

“You mind if I
have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down?”

It ended quickly–June 2007, like a band-aid being
torn off. After fights — crying, yelling, demanding… it was apparent
that I was out. The owner stopped speaking to me and instead sent
threatening emails or verbal rants through the publisher. I don’t know
why I waited– still designing…. but eventually decided to pull my
company out of it all — I kept my employees at the crazy salaries that
he had given them. We were once again a design firm.  He threatened to
“come after me”. He had his lawyer insist that I pay  him back all of
the money he spent on my company when in fact he owed me a great deal
in back pay. There was never a contract, however, and his
actions–unspeakable emails and threats spoke louder than any half-baked
lawsuit. In March of 2008 they offered to let me design for them again
until I had worked back the money that they thought I owed–thus lifting the threat
of having them actually sue me. I politely declined and haven’t heard
from them since…

“Ah, hit the spot.”

And then it was over. They continued to publish up until
the fall of 2008–I would pick up an issue here and there… still
beautiful, but dry and typical. There are rumors of what transpired
over the past years since I left… and many posts
online.. but factual? Who knows. I often wonder if it will reappear should the publishing world see a resurgence. People still tell me different stories
on almost a weekly basis.

What
I do know to be true is slightly unbelievable… My original business
partner in the design firm, as it turns out, was already partners with
the owner of the magazine when I went into business with him and had
been for years. The two of them were also partners with another man and
were dividing up shares of their other various businesses. When the man
I partnered with walked from the publication–they went after him to
retrieve his shares of everything and from what I’ve heard — a great
deal of his money. Therefore, the owner of the publication, his
business partners–including my partner were actually making money off
of my designs for the year before the publication project ever came up.

The owner of the publication– I mentioned, was a friend. We
allowed him into our lives–he took my husband to ball games, took us
out for dinners… invited us to spend time with his family. On many
occasions, he suggested that we invest in one of his many properties..
We never would have, but always acted interested and requested business
plans, which never surfaced. He was so interested in us – my husband
and I –that it was almost too much, but I never wanted to disappoint
him when it came to the magazine. Friendship was the booze they were selling, and I was drunk… while in the end, I’m just a graphic designer.

People do the craziest things.

Not to scare anyone, the snow has actually melted… But I was going through a recent order of photographs and I came across this one that made me completely unravel into fits of spastic giggles which only evolved into tears and roars of laughter… Because really, look at Blue’s expression. This was the first time he had ever witnessed sledding. Can you imagine what is going through his head? And, although I am fully aware that this might totally be my own little inside joke that is SO TOTALLY NOT FUNNY, just why would anyone sit on a piece of plastic, IN THE SNOW and slide down a big hill? WHY?

A few months ago I mentioned a little project that we had started – Will’s Kitchen. And I know – I can hear you… “Oh my GAWD, when is she going to STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS?!?!?!”. Even I am boring myself.

But here’s the thing. For the Birds is a blog about me (shocker!). And I’m going to write about pretty much anything I want — whether you like it or not. SO THERE. And yeah, I’m going to be pushy about it too… just like anyone that runs after the water delivery truck that pulls into the driveway, DOES NOT DROP OFF WATER, and leaves. Right? Because if I leave the empty bottles outside they will blow away…. but that doesn’t mean that we don’t need refills. And this is the kind of stuff that I sit here writing about… and it’s a DAMN GOOD THING. 

But back to Will’s Kitchen. After trials and fails of recipes and madness, we are happy to say that things are going well…. We’ve made all kinds of things… from breads to snacks to failed frittatas. Honestly, a great deal of attempts end up being rushed to the nearest garbage can, but we are also often surprised by our own concoctions. So it is with this that I have sent out a mass email inviting people to the site to participate. If, by accident, you were left off of the email list, please note that while I am not entirely sorry, I apologize. Here is how it went, please note the horrific absence of sarcasm:

Dear Family and Friends,

I am writing to you to tell you about a little project that we have been working on – http://willskitchen.com

As some of you know, Will was 4 months old when he was diagnosed with several food allergies, most severely eggs, cow’s milk, tree nuts and peanuts. Now that he is two years old, these allergies have remained at high levels and although there is a good chance that he will eventually grow out of them, we do not take any chances and have practically eliminated the allergens from our daily lives. In the process of doing this, we have had to make numerous adjustments, which – have surprisingly made us healthier!

One major change, aside from dietary, is that we spend a great deal of time now in the kitchen cooking and baking — which, as it turns out, is something that Will loves to do! In this process, we have started creating our own recipes while modifying old favorites. Do you have a recipe that fits in with our restrictions? Or, do you have a dish that you would like to see us modify? If so, please send it over to us and we will let you know how it goes… and of course we will give you proper credit as the original chef.

In the interim, food allergies – especially among children, are on the increase. Recent numbers show that as many as 6% are born with a food allergy with peanuts being among the highest at 37%… We are sure that you know someone that deals with this issue on a daily basis as we do and may only benefit from our fun, online experiment. Please feel free to forward this email in an effort to promote the cause and share the yumminess!

Thank you,
Ryan, Will, Bill & The Bluedog

http://willskitchen.com

So, in short, if you would like to join us  — we’ll be waiting over there, still damning the water guy — spatulas in hand. And don’t worry, I WILL WRITE ABOUT THIS AGAIN. I promise. 

I just finished watching some surreal recap episode of the TV show FlashForward out of the corner of my eye. The constant narration of each character’s “journey” has me wanting to say things like … Though she was tired and feeling very inept, she worked diligently at the task at hand – knowing full-well that if she stopped working she’d only fall even further behind. Though she loved this new life of hers, it somehow kept pulling her down instead of pushing her up. Perhaps a change of attitude was needed. Perhaps a change of scenery was needed. Luckily she has plans to leave the house tomorrow instead of obsessing over Small for Big. It is that thought that changes the course of her … And with that, I’ll give you the things I’ll need for my flashforward 6 months from now. God, summer will already be over. How annoying is that?

I was cutting an avocado yesterday when the sneaky fruit jumped out of my hands thus causing the knife I was using to wreak havoc all over my finger.

As blood poured out of the wound I felt dizzy and said “I’m fainting”. It was at this point that Mr. Sal stepped in and caught me while saying “YOU’RE OKAY” as the spinning room came to a halt. “Oh Moooooom”, Will said as I regained composure… AvACAAAdo. Oh Moooom. So, while I have pretty much recovered from this little incident in time, Will is still talking about how the avocado practically ripped my hand off…. But wouldn’t that have been INTENSE? What if that ACTUALLY HAPPENED. It wouldn’t be unlike anything else that you don’t predict or expect to happen… from bad hair days to natural disasters.. But what we can take from the avocado is the fact that it tried to hurt me and we all reacted. We all tried to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. And its a good thing too, because avocados are 10 for $10 at the store these days so that’s all we’re eating.

It isn’t unlike the series of events that happened AFTER the avocado… we moved on, eating lunch. We went outside and played. We picked up sticks. We threw the ball to Blue. We wandered about. And then we came inside… only to have Will stop dead in his tracks upon seeing the piles of avocados on the shelf. “OHhhh Mooooom… AvACAAAdo.” And then at the market again this morning… “OHhhh Mooom, Wook – CAAAAADOS”, as if the beastly little buggers were about to launch an attack… But who knows, maybe they were… MAYBE they are all downstairs RIGHT NOW in the kitchen planning tonight’s blood bath–GET HER!! But it was only Will’s now burned on the brain memory of this little incident that has us all living in fear of what will happen next.

And what did happen next?

I sat down with a glass of wine at the end of the day and perused the channels for something to take my mind off of it all when I came across this tasty delight:

Mirrors
Kiefer Sutherland, Paula Patton (2008) A former cop must protect his family from an evil force that uses mirrors to cross over into their home. (1:52) Horror (R)

I ran to the kitchen to grab a pen… completely bypassing the avocados. This was too good to pass up. Not only was Kiefer about to answer ALL OF MY QUESTIONS, but he too was in the midst of being tortured by something that he COULD NOT CONTROL. It was then that I realized that the pure description of this movie could be applied to ANYTHING – even the avocados.

So as I sit here, polishing off my guacamole extravaganza, licking every finger that isn’t injured, I have to say that tiny little incidents of near disaster are sometimes okay — because the victory can be as meaningless as you want to make it…. As the forces of evil hover, and wait.  

Thank you very much.

And as the attendant walked backwards to the mini mart, he stumbled over the Red Bull display. They say it’s going to be 65° tomorrow–Best to buy some nail polish for the toe debut.

And I’m already sunburned.

But that’s okay, because we’ve just ended the longest winter in the history of the world (you heard it here first) and I am waiting for a phone call at 3:15 — it’s now 3:24… not happening. Which means that as soon as I get up from this computer, I will be going back outside for more sun. Because, although it doesn’t look like I have very much to do  — I am actually very very busy. So busy, that I can’t really get anything done. So… I ask myself, why are you attempting to do more? As the list only grows longer and longer… I am also tired of blending in with the off-white walls — fading into the pale white sheets. Sunscreen? Who needs it, and where is the time to apply? Burn, baby BURN.

And here are some fun SUN safety tips brought to you by The Onion circa 2005. Because what’s wrong with a little cut and paste? Hmmm?

It’s true.

And I’m not going to go on all blah blah blah, touchy feely — But most of the time I really am happy. I have nothing to complain about… although, if you read this blog regularly, you know I’ll seek something out to beat to death with the annoying stick anyway. And those guys out there that trademarked the phrase “Life is Good” and started printing it on everything they could get their hands on — they weren’t just drinking the Kool-Aid… they were buying it, mixing it up BY HAND and then pouring it all over themselves while dancing in the desert somewhere with a bunch of other naked people. Right? Because if I were to “come up with” a phrase such as this and copyright… oh, let’s see, “Have your cake and eat it too,” you know you’d catch me just south of Moab doing the freaky dance. Because everyday there are people that drive really loud monster trucks up and down my street all day coining all kinds of phrases like “CAUTION, I’M A CRAZY REDNECK” and “KICK THEIR ASS, TAKE THEIR GAS” or my favorite “KILL DUCKS” — because, dammit, those Mallards are a real pain in the ass. All day everyday they drive. Sometimes really fast — and sometimes super slow… like they are just LOOKING for something toooo… do what with? Little men with big trucks and HUGE tires. Up and down and down and up… back and forth… just PROVING that they have the loudest mufflers IN THE WORLD. But now I’ve even lost the point.

Oh wait. Right… I’m happy.

I’m happy because I feel like the crazeballs few months of our lives are beginning to tiptoe off someplace else… and if I knew where they were headed… Dudes, I wouldn’t dare tell out of  fear that they might change their minds, return, and sit at my kitchen table complaining about the coffee situation. Because so what if I’m on tea these days… IT’S PERSONAL.

At any rate. Things are calming down. The company is closed — after I yell, graffiti, sing it from a mountain, and repeat like a crazy person “I CLOSED IT”… people are beginning to say “Ooohhhh, you mean you closed the company?”. I’m also designing a bit here and there on projects that actually make me feel like a designer, giving a big sigh of relief that there might be bigger things to come in the future. So, while Lady Gaga and Beyoncé think that they might have stolen the show on “confuse me one more time”, I’ll just be here grinning like the REAL chesire cat.. swinging in the cat bird seat, eating cake. 

I am a lot of things.

But one thing that I am not is patient. And I am finally admitting it. For years people have asked me to just be patient. Years. And I always say – I AM. But it’s true, I AM NOT. Which is why I have decided to write this post. Because if I make one more failed recipe out of the allergy baking cookbook – - bought specifically for the intention of spinning me into the non-allergen Betty Crocker  — all dairy, egg and nut free — I might just pull a Spinal Tap and SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST. I know… WHY am I so stressed out? Who CARES about the dollars upon dollars of ingredients that have been WASTED – trying my patience for all things HARD TO DO anyway! And how do I know that I might blowup? Because the recipes ARE ALL WRONG. And I’m really tired of trying.

I pre-ordered this cookbook. I was in touch with the author — who I thought was super savvy and nice. I connected with her about marketing ideas and agreed to write a review here and on Will’s Kitchen. I told her that I COULDN’T WAIT until the book was published. But now — as I am OVERWHELMINGLY tempted to type her name — I realize how NAIVE I must have been. IT WAS ALL A ROUSE. And Why? WHY would you publish a cookbook in which NONE of the recipes are accurate? Is it because you WANT me to rewrite ALL of them for you? Would you like to come over and see all of the bread loaves that DID NOT RISE? Or attempt to bite into the cookies THAT WILL BREAK YOUR TEETH? Do you know how hot 450° is? And what about the typos? EDIT MUCH? And what if I contact you, and let you know how we have tried and failed to make every single concoction in your half-baked science experiment — then would you somehow explain how you intend to FIX things? Print a retraction for every misplace tablespoon? Or, I could call you and you’d be all “Oh, so lovely to hear from you” and I’d be like “YOU ARE A LIAR and A CHEAT”. But what is to gain from my being mean? And if patience is a virtue, it must be that FAKING IT is too, because ADMIT IT. Not only are you taking advantage of EVERYONE, smiling on the cover — taunting those of us that FELL FOR IT, but you are also taking us to the bank — one to twelve bags of wheat flour at a time.

Whew.
And now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, the completely unrelated to this post news of the week is that I’ve gone back to writing for Artistic Things — you can find me there NOT baking or talking about baking… or patience.. until one of those pesky arty folkheads starts lying about being an artist. Because that’s what people do these days… THEY MAKE IT ALL UP. And I promise I will get over all of this soon.