KjB

11/24/2004

A good ‘ol country holiday

Filed under: General — kendra @ 7:46 am

CW and I will be leaving for the mountainous area of the Georgia/North Carolina border in a few short hours to meet up with immediate family and significant others for some festive holiday rollicking in the damn-hell-crap torrential holiday rain. Activities will likely include: lounging, eating, the playing of card-games only known to the population of indiana, canada, and random areas of britain, (this game, specifically), eating, lounging, sly digs about why CW and I refuse to relinquish the living in sin and just get married already, and more eating.

Relatedly, I got an email this morning from “Vicodin”, titled “bring it.” Right on.

Happy turkey day.

15 minutes

Filed under: General — kendra @ 7:30 am

William Faulkner’s Personal Pocketwatch. $25,000, and the reserve isn’t even met yet.

wow.

11/22/2004

Encircled

Filed under: General — kendra @ 9:40 am

I love rings. I’m wearing at least 3 at all times, and have a whole box of various kinds (mostly silver, many with the spiral motif I’m so drawn to on them). I lose rings often, and then re-find them. It’s happened like 4 times to a wonderful turquoise one I have—one that my dad wore in the 60’s. This - 200 Rings, at the Velvet da Vinci Art Jewelry and Sculpture Gallery - San Francisco - is my kind of exhibit.

And just another example of why San Franciso is my kind of town.

11/18/2004

The Persuaders

Filed under: General — kendra @ 9:32 am

frontline: the persuaders | PBS This looks really interesting—especially since I am one of “the persuaders” by trade.

Like a lot of people in advertising, we that form the brands—that spew out the fluffy-stuff that makes a product or a name more than just words, but a tangible deisre in the marketplace, those of us that are the reason wanting a “pony” in the generic has been supplanted by wanting a very specific yellow rubber-band bracelet—seem on the whole pretty cynical about the entire marketing ordeal. Look at jelly helm if you want a dichotomy and a good example. Read “hey whipple, squeeze this!” Then read “fast food nation” and look at what we have wrought in all our creative zeal.

On the whole, I look at what I do and every once and a while get a real feeling for how utterly silly it is. But it really doesn’t make me want to do it less.

Sadly, most of the time I don’t give much thought to it at all. It’s just so easy to get caught up in the whole brain-tease psychology of the thing. That, aside from the fact that writing is the one saleable thing I seem to do pretty well, is why I stay in this field. To ponder what makes people “want” something. To figure out what gives people the kind of gentle gut-twisting feeling of having a PlayStation-shaped hole in their heart. What drives them to walk into a Pottery Barn and feel like they’ve just come home.

I’m getting excited just thinking about it actually - the manipulation of emotion. The prospect for changing things up to keep an ever-jaded consumer public interested, buying, wanting, needing.

I’m a branding geek, I guess. Unashamedly. Without apology.

I am the person Target makes slightly off-colored, satin-finish tissue boxes for. And I would buy them even if they weren’t the cheapest. I buy them, and then I take them home and wonder what they could do better to make MORE people want them. It’s a sickness. And a job.

anyway

More after I watch the program.

11/17/2004

typing while intoxicated

Filed under: General — kendra @ 12:54 pm

Every once in a while I come some mysteriously-named word-document on my laptop; something I don’t remember creating, and can’t decipher from the title. This is almost always something I have written while drunk.

People should keep me away from keyboards after I’ve been drinking. Because what comes out is usually at best surreal, non-sensical, and at worst, darker and scarier than anything that usually seeps out of my head.

Today’s find: On my work powerbook, a little treasure of a file entitled “you were always on my mind.” (for god’s sake, don’t ask me why.) An excerpt: “There was this day that I remember more than any other day. The day of the papercut, in the year of the washing machine, in the decade of the mustang convertible, I believe.

He drove the convertible. I got the papercut. The washing machine just churned in the corner, kind of laughing at us as we floundered. It was always like that. Damn superior Maytags.”

Proof that I am losing my mind. Geesh.

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