Oh Bloody

#4: Flashbacks from Kill Bill

I just witnessed a massacre. Ours. You think I'm typing, but in reality, I'm in another place bleeding to death.

Our team just got clobbered in a defense. (I'm not a lawyer but over my working life, I've found myself having to act like one a lot of times.) Right now, I'm like "the Bride" in Kill Bill. She probably imagined walking down the aisle to meet her groom that day. It's in a dinky country bar setting but, hey, they say everything is pretty on your wedding day. Same day but several rounds of bullets after, she's on the floor swimming in blood and far from being pretty.

So far, this Friday has been just that. Bloody and not pretty at all. I imagined our team to be quite powerful: one brand person, two advertising agency guys and two technical people who knew things the first 3 members of the group wouldn't even bother jamming inside their heads. Turns out, the last 2 teammates assumed that the first three could pull everyone out with just razzle dazzle so they just plain didn't bother. Ah, the folly of presumption.

I am whistling the Kill Bill Whistle Song in my head now. (Yes, in my head because that is the only way I'll be able to whistle.) We will be back for the re-defense on Wednesday. Till then, I'll be calmly making my list inside a pink pick-up truck. (Well, that is, of course, after I get my big toe to wiggle.)

Plato Lives!

#3: Mastercard lives longer!

I got sucked into this clever money-making scheme at one of the IQ test sites. Curious to find out if my IQ has resisted deterioration over years of writing tabloid-ish accounts of my life, I quickly went over the 20 questions for reassurance.

This is what I got:
"Your Intellectual Type is Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways. Like Plato, your exceptional math and verbal skills make you very adept at explaining things to others — and at anticipating and predicting patterns."

Interesting, yes.
Reassuring, I don't know. (It did say I'm good at Math and since I know that I'm not, that basically puts the credibility of the whole test and its results in question.) Hah.

Time to finish the test: 10 minutes.
Time to read the results: 10 seconds.
The marketing tricks employed to get you to hand over your credit card details: Priceless.

Betrayed by a Kiss

#2: Hershey's is Evil

I received a pack of Hershey’s Kisses yesterday and immediately said to myself, “I’m not going to eat those.” Yeah. Then proceeded to open the first one. 15 minutes after, all but one was gone.

It’s not that I lack willpower. It’s that they’re there. And with nothing better to do while waiting for my public hanging in front of our Regional bosses, I just really started finding them very appealing and suddenly oh-so-healthy. (Well, healthier than the death penalty, that is.)

So the presentation went well and they were convinced that I am doing a good job with my brand here in our country. Wednesday was over and lo and behold, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Thursday was going to be a breeze. Really. I even put on “breezy” clothes to go with the mood. Then this evil little kiss peers from behind my planner and dares me to eat him. I give him a sneer. I didn’t need him the way I needed his brothers yesterday when I was so stressed. I’m on “cruise” mode this time and this mode is more for granola bars and soy milk than for bad, bad chocolate babies. He sneers back.

Two meetings later, I sit to face my laptop and decide to skip lunch altogether. In the light of another possible slaughter, lunch was inconsequential. If I don’t get these deliverables accomplished, a bunch of sales guys will have my head for lunch… plus our regional lords will be breathing down my neck – yes, the neck attached to my decapitated body. (Why do I keep borrowing images from the grim reaper again?) The breezy portion of the day is apparently over. I reach for the last piece of chocolate, crush it between my teeth and swallow it quickly so I wouldn’t have to hear the little creep gloat.

Gucci Goes Public

#1: Outing the Closet Blogger

Ah. I didn't know it would happen like this.
I've been a "Closet Blogger" for more than 4 years - always stealing a moment or two to empty my thoughts on a clean sheet of Word Document but never visualizing them posted in public for strangers to see. I always thought my decision to "go public" would be driven more by the mad desire to share some earth-shattering development in my life than by a mere pragmatic response to technical difficulties in getting my VivaGlam Super Editions through some office firewalls. So here goes...

I am Gucci Stardust and here's my attempt at being a drag queen, err, blog queen.