Futility

When I want to bash my head against my desk at 8 a.m. because people just lack all kinds of common sense, it’s just not a good sign. Not at all.

Conventional Wisdom

OK, I’m no Einstein … or even this precious London girl who has a ridiculously high IQ, but I like to think I’m not a complete moron.

That said, let’s say that I am asking research houses which people are the best to speak with about a particular topic, we’ll affectionately call this topic “X”. The first hurdle is getting the firms to get back to you — fortunately for me, this generally isn’t a problem. They give me names and contact information for the analysts they feel are best to contact. I do so, set up an interview, talk to them, write a story, rinse and repeat.

OK, great. Now I ask if I can take a look at any published research they have in the past year on the subject so I can be, you know, relatively up-to-speed when I talk to them on the phone.

“S/he hasn’t published any research on the subject.”

What? If they haven’t written any research on the subject, how can they be the right person to contact? That makes absolutely no sense. Better yet, I want that job.

Will I reach out to these analysts anyway? Sure.

Will I be highly skeptical? Probably.

In the end, does it matter? Not really.

Considerations

Sorry for not blogging on here in a long time — but there are a lot of things going on in my life at this time that I simply don’t want to share with the world. That’s what the private journal — a real, honest-to-God, paper bound in a notebook deal — is for. After just a week’s worth of writing, I can assure you that it is for the best that it never sees the light of day.

I’m considering starting a union at WHQ. Granted, I guess I’m not super serious about it yet — but I’m actually considering some form of it. I don’t think I could collect dues and be a boss of that sort, but I don’t think we’re being represented well. Actually, I don’t think our interests are being represented at all. Not even close.

Stretching it to the furthest possible limit, it’s almost like we’re on the short end of the stick pre-American Revolution. You know, no taxation without representation, muskets, powdered wigs, hot summers in Philly, all that jazz. I wonder if and when the fearless leaders will understand that not only do we produce, but we may have some good ideas about management, too.

Maybe they need a little prodding in that direction. We’ll see.

Best Lawyer Name Ever

I was on my way to work this morning, and as I was reading the amNewYork on the PATH train I came across this story. Now, mind you, I’m not emotionally invested in this story — but check out the name of the lawyer.

Tom Hagen.

How badass is that? I think that everyone named Tom Hagen should have to become a lawyer, if not a consigliere.

We Support Our Troops

I had the distinct pleasure of having a four-and-a-halfish-day weekend in honor of the Memorial Day holiday. Since it still kind of hurts to talk and I have mucho to catch up on at work, here’s a bulleted run-down.

Thursday post-4 p.m.:

• waiting an hour-and-a-half to get a wisdom tooth pulled;
• wisdom tooth pulled;
• milkshake;
• blood;
• pint of ice cream;
• blood; and
• pain.

Friday:

• less blood;
• laundry;
• working on my tan;
• watching an entire season of Rome on DVD;
• eating quasi-soft food;
• pain;
• icing my jaw; and
• cleaning the kitchen.

Saturday:

• eating more quasi-soft food;
• reintroducing myself to Mannix;
• having an epic gym workout that involved no lifting or bending over;
• working on my tan;
• walking to Target;
• picking up Relapse;
• making mashed sweet potatoes; and
• eating a pound of the 3.5 pounds worth of said mashed sweet potatoes.

Sunday:

• eating slightly more solid food;
• pain;
• rinse;
• traveling to gym that was closed;
• returning to work on my tan;
• attempted to do alternating push-ups;
• Mannix;
• beer;
• eating remaining 2.5 pounds of mashed sweet potatoes … cold;
• nap;
• watching parade outside apartment;
• party;
• beer;
• nap;
• beer;
• pizza;
• lots of pain –> nap;
• party, beer; and
• sleep.

Monday:

• Brownstone;
• grocery shopping;
• pain;
• working on tan;
• lots of thought;
• cooking;
• Mannix; and
• bed.

Epic.

An email my boss sent someone today to a publicist basically told him not to be offended if I didn’t respond to any of his emails. I can’t even tell you how hilarious that is to me. People probably think I’m the big, bad wolf.

Well … maybe I am.

One. More. Day.

Water to Wine (Glasses)

Well, my week of living in hotel rooms and suitcases is over … that I know of. Connecticut for my brother’s college graduation was a good time. I hear there is a nasty rumor going around about pictures of me dancing Saturday night at the family/graduate dinner/dance. I hope those don’t surface. I wouldn’t want TMZ.com picking them up or Perez Hilton drawing NSFW things on my face.

On the serious, it was a good time. While I managed to avoid heat rash in Orlando, of course I got that PLUS windburn in Connecticut. The only plus side is that my face looks tan. Seriously, how delicate is my skin? Hopefully my gums are stronger, as I’ll be getting my wisdom tooth yanked Thursday night. Then I have a four-day weekend to recouperate, though I’m really only planning to have to eat non-solid food for one day. I have stuff to do, things to eat, people to see. Tooth 32 isn’t going to impact my life anymore than it already has.

Busy three-day week at work, since I’m slightly behind and have about four things, no, five things that are technically due by EOD Thursday. He he … ha ha. We’ll see. If it doesn’t get done, it won’t be for lack of trying. But it’ll get done. Why? Because I abhor be behind … with a passion. Hence “abhor”.

All right, that’s enough. Time to get to work.

Status Check: Orlando

• No heat rash
• No airport delays
• Slight shuttle delay
• No sketchy people on the train
• No sunburn
• No ugly

All in all, rather successful. One more day at work ’til my three-day weekend. Thank. God.

Jetsetter

Today’s my final day at a user conference in Orlando for work — later tonight I’m headed back to Newark (no delays … no delays … no delays) and back into the office for Thursday and Friday, just to head home again Friday night after work. Then Saturday and Sunday I’ll be in Connecticut attending my younger brother’s college graduation from Sacred Heart University.

The week has been a whirlwind — traveling will do that, I suppose. Being the old man that I am, I fell asleep before the final hour of Biggest Loser and don’t even know who won. I sent a BlackBerry message to Erica trying to find out, but judging by the last one she sent when I was snoozing, I think Tara took it home. I’ll update if necessary.

**HELEN WON!!! WEIGHS 117 APPARENTLY?!?!?!? I’m so glad I DVR’d this back at my apartment!**

What blew my mind was the fact that Jerry, a 64-year-old monster of a man, lost 47 percent-ish of his body weight and won the at-home challenge! Insane! I challenge anyone that overweight to lose that much weight at his age, and having only two weeks on campus. All power to him.

Just waiting for the final keynote to start, then its roundtables and meetings — and a gaggle of live tweeting, much to my Speech Brothers’ chagrin — until a shuttle takes me to MCO. Last Sunday I began working on the next part of my story about James — not sure if I’ll have time to work on it before this weekend, or even finish the next part this weekend. I’ll try to remember to bring my notebook for the ride from NYC to Beacon, then from Wallkill to CT.

I’ll be happy when I can fully unpack my suitcase and not live out of it, or hotels, for more than two days. That’s all.

Also? The conference is playing the Gorillaz before the keynote is to begin. Oh. Boy.

Heat Rash

Hopefully, I don’t get heat rash this year at the conference I’m leaving for later today (it’s in Orlando). Looking forward to a few days out of the office, though I think I’m going to be kind of busy at the conference. Oh well. The weird thing about conferences, at least for me, is that I go through a period of loathing them right before departure. Then, once I’m there, I kind of get swept up in it and I’m good to go — attending meetings, sessions, keynotes, sometimes meals — and I bust through it.

This weekend was fun. My brother and I surprised my mother by coming home from our respective places of residence, meeting in the middle (Beacon), and then waiting for Mom at home, just sitting on the couch. It was nice to be home, even though it was only for a few hours. I’ll be home next week though, since we’re all traveling to Connecticut to watch my brother walk across the football field(?) and receive his undergraduate diploma. It’ll be fun.

This is an exciting week of television. The season finale of Big Bang Theory is on tonight, which Godwilling I’ll be dutifully watching from the comfort of my JetBlue seat on the way to Orlando. If not, I have it set to record on my DVR at the apartment. Same goes for the Biggest Loser season finale Tuesday night. I think I’ll miss a good chunk of it due to a business dinner, but I’m epically excited to see who wins. Erica and I have watched it all season, so I feel invested in seeing it through.

Here’s hoping for no heat rash, and a successful — and quickly passing — week.