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It’s been 10 years.
TEN YEARS.
Think about it while I try to not make this post last until 2020.

Sidenote: Normally, I wouldn’t write an “end of the year” post over a week before the end of the year… but honestly, if I write about the holidays it might just equal talking about the holidays — of which I’m a little over. Don’t get me wrong, Christmas will be tons of fun, but I feel like its taking forever to get here on top of  not really being in a fa la la la mood this year… more like OKAY ALREADY. I know, so eloquent.

I actually thought to myself last night that it’s a good thing that I didn’t decorate too much because MY FOOT I don’t want to clean it all up once ALL THIS is over and done with. And please… Depressed? I have no reason to be… Hormonal? Like a train wreck…

So while I’m petitioning to skip over the next four days and wake up tomorrow with Santa squeaking right back up that chimney, AND perfecting the “It’s not you, it’s me” excuse… Please know that everything should be returning to normal in about 2 weeks…. just in time for 2011 to make her grand entrance…

swans remember everything...

In 1999, 2000 was kind of a big deal. I can remember… we were living in Portsmouth, NH — planning to fly down to Burke, VA to visit best friends for the New Year and Turn of the Century (echo echo echo). I was at the eye doctor getting diagnosed with chronic dry-eyes – aka: inability to produce tears without extreme pain when my Optometrist — a young little female Doogie Howser sat stunned when I told her that my boyfriend and I were planning to fly somewhere to celebrate…. ON A PLANE. But wasn’t I scared? Wasn’t I worried that some cosmic switch was going to flip causing our plane to enter into another dimension? To which I calmly replied – “Well, no…. I hear that 2000 is nothing compared to what 2012 is going to bring.” To which she replied by staring at me blankly — as if her mind had become like dilated pupils all fuzzy dark only to reemerge from the fog in Shangri-La, where I was no longer her patient and she could move on to lighter things… like Beenie Babies and the hideously addictive lure of the food court outside her office walls. Those crazy Druids.

And it would be completely inappropriate to go on and on about the first 10 of the 2000s without making mention of 9-11. None of us will ever forget where we were, what we went through and of course — who and what we lost. Just thinking about that day — which quickly turned into night and then weeks of torture that followed… just thinking about it makes me want to take all the insignificance of the other 9 years and cram them into one of these hideously decorated gift boxes I have laying around — only to be peered into if you want to see extreme happiness and selfless adoration of life… But then I have to slap myself in reminder that life goes on — as we were all able to prove to the universe… Life goes on, and apparently, so does this blog…

Interestingly enough, because we’re back to the really important issue at hand… My current eye doctor is perhaps the 5th most attractive man on the planet, so I’ve never had the gumption to discuss the END OF THE WORLD or flash in the pan collectibles with him out of sheer humility. Our friends from Burke, however, are beyond outgoing– no longer live in VA and now have FOUR KIDS UNDER THE AGE OF TEN. Yes that’s right, and I’ve mentioned them before in unabashed wonder… Which pretty much brings us up to date on where TEN YEARS can lead you. But not really.

The past ten years have been pretty huge for me… as I’m sure they have been for you too. No — I didn’t do anything earth shattering… but each time something changed since 2000, it’s been pretty major… And I could go into a detailed time-line, highlighting each breath and thought process that occurred, but that would just make you feel trapped… in a 10×10′ red room… without a door or window. So, you know what, I’m not even going to get into any of it… ‘It’, of course being the ten years in which I’ve moved between states, gotten married, had a child, become a dog owner, homeowner, opened and closed a mildly successful business, hung out with the devil, learned how to cook, finally grasped the understanding of the term ‘patience’, made incredible new friends AND started the journey of bringing another life into the world. And if that isn’t enough, aside from me… (because I am aware of others when they talk loud enough) many friends and family members have fought and won against life threatening diseases and physical struggles that I can’t even begin to comprehend.

It could be that there are so many things that happened within things in the past ten years that its too hard to fully grasp the enormity of it all. I mean — I’m 35 — I’ve been through three and a half ten year periods and, honestly, the other 2.5 seemed so silly… all premature and childish… Like the word ‘Decade’ is just a fly on the wall of ‘Century’, so WHATEVER, who cares. Once you’ve witnessed the turn of a century, a decade is so 1800s. And with that thought of complete senselessness, I leave you with the thought of ten years (give or take a leap year). TEN YEARS. That’s 5259600 minutes of 3,650 days… Did anything happen?

The 80s have been hard hit this summer… Michael and now John Hughes… Took a few days to climb out of my "what does this all MEAN" phase… where is OMD when you need a ballad?

"Demented and sad, but social."
"Can I borrow your underpants for 10 minutes?"
"What about prom, Blaine? WHAT ABOUT PROM?"
"But pretty soon, a woobie isn't enough."
"I'm a pathological liar"
"She get married to oily Bohunk"
"Slave wages are okay."
"I can't do anything to you that you haven't already done to yourself."
"The next screw that falls out will be you."
"This is what my girlfriend would look like without skin."
"Hello Jack? I'm Annette. You're doing it wrong."
"Neomaxizoomdweebie"
"I’m not really a farmer."
"I'd rather be with someone for the wrong reasons then alone for the right."
"That’s not a joke. That’s a severe behavioral disorder."
"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?"
"Screw the house!"
"220, 221 whatever it takes"
"Um, I like alcoholics?"
"I'd've died for you!"
"MO-LAY really pumps my nads."
"Get your skag and let's go."
"I predict me and her will interface."
"We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all."
"Why are you here?" "Drugs."
"He must practice on melons or something."
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

let the colors inspire.

1. June was abnormally wet… shocker
2. Index THIS… [alistapart]
3. George Lucas…copycat? [unbeige]
4. This book is glued to my hand… [cooltools]
5. Phở [passionforeating]
6. Watch out… crazy librarians! 
7. Never mess with a Van Halen… especially Eddie
8. Stuff to do with old jars… or you could just recycle… [renest]
9. Twitter is the new Digg… and the English language is screwed…
10. Death to Deaccessioning!!!
11. This is a great kitchen… with really ugly chairs… [designsponge]
12. And…. Courthampton!!! The insanity never fails to amaze me…

Simply answered… I don't.

This question was posted on Mamapedia recently and as I read through the answers and updates, it seems that the only people can do it all are those with no responsibilities. And why should Moms, Dads—any caregiver feel that they have to do it all? This particular post is in regards to house cleaning… which I am not very good at to begin with. Terrible. So bad, in fact, that I hire people to come in and attack every once in a while. I find that it is the only way for the dust, dog hair and other assorted yucks to be taken care of…. While this may sound like a grandeous luxury, its actually quite affordable and allows for us to work|exercise|play|cook|eat|live|breathe|relax —all while streaming funds back into our defunct economy.

I suppose it comes down to the lesser of a few evils. Family first—obviously… but health is part of that first and living among out-to-get-you germs and mites [hello bed bugs visiting from NYC]—Not to mention unnoticed crumbs from my 18 month old's cookie acting as a mouse invitation… No—Clean must be a must and if you can't do it on your own, outside help is worth every cent. 

This new logo design for Lennegan & Marantz is lovely and refreshing. I'll pat my own back, thanks.

But enough shameless self promotion… Lennegan & Marantz is a new furniture retail line that has opened up on Main Street in Bridgehampton—at the American Wing. Please view their website… http://www.lenneganandmarantz.com . 

In other news… (back to the shameless self promotion) if you are looking for us, we've moved our Studio space one door down.. swapping with our neighbor. Office swapping if you will. This decision was made because we've become a smaller operation… more nitche—unique—specialized…. dare I say, boutique. Still at 2405 Main Street—and still signless (sigh).

Happy weekend!

This past Sunday NY Times "Preoccupations" focused on a Graphic Artist skilled in the old-school testament of design. He talks vividly about the pre-MAC old days of long nights, story boards and T-squares. Although I appreciate the quarkiness (a deliberate pun!) of his "how it was and now how it is" sarcasm, I think it's important to note that a great deal of "today's" designers still throw back to traditional means of pencils, exactos and 0.5 tips.

My policy has always been to start with a blank page – not screen… pen in hand….. It wasn't just a few months ago that Patrick, die-hard Senior Graphic Designer extrodinare, sliced the dickens out of himself in a mock-up challenge. Personally, I can't feel a majority of my fingertips due to such similar incidents. All in the name of perfection that can't be accomplished via keyboard.

So, while this ode-to the way it was makes it seem like attention to detail has been thrown out the window due to technology and the occasional "I know In-Design, so I'm a Designer" attitude… we just want to lay it out there that tradition stands strong with the professionals that know what it takes.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/08/jobs/08pre.html

We've been in a holding pattern for the past few weeks, hence the missing lists and posts. The big giant economic crisis finally found our little hideout in Bridgehampton, and unfortunately, we are feeling it. Difficult times have resulted in even more painful decisions… so we are thinning ourselves out… becoming a little leaner.. and meaner. Taking the empty void of time to realign, focus on the reality of it all… get back to basics. It is prudent, in days like this, to pare back. Everything, including this bloggedy blog needs to be evaluated…. and so be it. A morph may be what we need to sustain… but regardless of what reamerges…

Wanting to come back strong means that we will.

We are currently reviewing portfolios for a Freelance Graphic Designer position here at Breakwater… I must say that we have received gobs of impressive resumes and samples. We plan to start reviewing early next week in the hopes of filling the position soon.

One submission, in particular, stood out… in an intro email glaring out at us was…

“I don’t have a large ego when it comes to commercial art”

What?
Is this a good thing, or a bad thing?

After hashing around about what this sentence is implies, we have decided that we have ENORMOUS EGOS when it comes to commercial art and therefore, not a good fit. Although we appreciate the need to stand out among the other applicants–this goes directly into the “what-not-to-do-for-work” file.