Today, we bid adieu to that annual marketing monster event, the North Carolina State Fair. Those of you who do not live in Raleigh, NC or the surrounding area may not be able to grasp the magnitude of this event. More than 1 million people attended the Fair during it's 10-day span.
Um...that's a LOT of people.
Why do I care about the State Fair? Because I do promotion and marketing for WRAL-TV. So much of our success is measured by how many people like us. It's quite subjective. One of the ways we can foster warm, fuzzy feelings is personal interaction with viewers. The more we can personally interact with people, the more likely they are to like us. That is, if our interaction is a positive experience. The State Fair is a big deal because we have the opportunity to have a positive, personal interaction with hundreds of thousands of people...and THAT can make a difference in our ratings....worth the price of admission.
So, this means that the Fair ranks as our TOP promotional event of the year. We have a huge tent full of giveaways, meet & greets with our on-air personalities, contests, live broadcasts every day from the fairgrounds...it's a huge undertaking. And is hugely stressful for those of us in charge of making sure we look good out there and make the most of the investment.
Given all of this, I breathe a sigh of relief to see the Fair come to an end, pleased that we pulled it off once more, pleased that we made the most of it, pleased that I don't have to think about it again for about 6 months.
Now, on to the next thing...November Sweeps begins in 2 days. Bring it on!
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Deck-cation
Here I sit on my deck, Labor Day weekend. I sit, in my collapsible blue lawn chair. I have my laptop, my up-cycled hand-made book journal, and my sketch book all stacked up on a circa 1950-something end table. This little table has been dragged around with me to all five of the places I've lived since going off to college. Now, I've dragged it out onto my deck for the evening. Oh, yeah, and I have my little (big) rum drink on this table as well.
The Amy Winehouse Pandora station is playing in the background.
Because I do not have proper deck furniture, getting out here is a bit of a production, therefore, I don't do it very often. The large volume of spider webs I fought through this evening testifies to that. Such a shame, because the view from my deck is lovely. Thick woods with lots of interesting wildlife. My deck is also unusually large for a one-bedroom apartment in Raleigh. This is one of the reasons I chose to live here. I need some deck furniture.
"Amy, Amy, Amy," is playing on Pandora. Delicious.
Why am I on this deck alone? The door and the window are wide open, so there should be a cat or two out here with me. Sam is chillin' on the floor inside. I call him to come out here and keep me company. He promptly obliges. Best cat ever.
As the evening progresses, the air is getting cooler. We are getting the first little bitty taste of fall this weekend. This tank top won't do after a while.
"The Way I Am," Ingrid Michaelson on Pandora. Perfect.
...time lapse...
Ok, back now. Just sliced up some onions and popped those and some brats in the oven. Freshened up the little (big) rum drink. Munched a few jalapeno kettle cooked chips.
I see that my neighbor still has the action figure clothing laying out on his deck. I noticed a few days ago that this apparently single, mid-thirties dude who lives next to me had carefully laid out some doll-sized clothes (cargo pants and a gray hoodie) to dry on his deck. Now the cargo pants are missing while the hoodie remains. There very well may be a squirrel out there somewhere wearing a freshly laundered pair of cargo pants. Not cold enough for the hoodie yet.
"4 + 20," Joss Stone on Pandora. Sweet.
Holy crap, those brats and onions already smell freakin' awesome. Sam is still hangin' out here with me, dutifully.
Have felt a bit blue the past few days. Very stressful at work this week (although, I kicked ass), struggled with nightmares. Not feeling very well-rested. Off-center. After doing a goodly amount of laying around on the couch yesterday, I felt worse. Did some more laying around today and realized I was seriously struggling with "What's Next" Syndrome. You know, the antithesis of "Living in the Moment." Now THAT is straight-up manufactured stress.
"The Fear," Lilly Allen on Pandora. Pandora is reading my mind.
Jarring myself from my wallowing, I planned my little re-centering party, in which I am in the midst right now. Soooo working. I am definitely feeling better.
Cicadas. Sam is now curled up right next to my folding blue lawn chair, enjoying the towel I put there earlier to give him a comfy place to hang. He's been sick this week and I'm afraid he's a little dehydrated. He's such a sweet boy.
"New Soul," Yael Naim on Pandora....*sigh/smile*
Ever throw yourself a "re-centering" party? What did you do? Did it work?
Monday, August 16, 2010
Burning
This could go anywhere... Am I about to talk about a failed meal? A criminal act? A medical condition that is best left undisclosed to anyone other than my doctor and my boyfriend?
None of the above. I am am talking about desire. Burning desire. Still, the place I'm going here is not as sexy as it sounds. I'm talking about a burning desire to travel.
How's that for a teaser campaign? But, I digress.
I really haven't done much traveling. Never left the country...haven't even been to the Caribbean. Don't have a passport and never have.
This isn't a typical "I need a vacation" vent. My motivation is not to take a break from the burden of daily life. My daily life is not such a terrible burden. My motivation is to experience more. To be challenged. I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing out, and for a very good reason. I AM missing out! There is a whole big, wide world out there that I am missing.
I put this out there as an acknowledgment of this place in my evolution. As I move forward in my life, I am moving away from materialism. Not that I was ever materialistic, but that I have come to reject material as a gauge of my success or happiness. I reject the societal goal structure that measures milestones by material gain...buying a house, getting a raise, bigger, bigger, more, more. Don't get me wrong, I want to be comfortable and have what I need, but my definition of "need" has drastically changed in the last 5 years. I need to make sure I don't come to the end of my life knowing that I missed out.
Now, back to that burning sensation. Each year in the last week of August, thousands of people converge in the Nevada desert for an artistic free-for-all called Burning Man. There was a time when this event sounded to me like the most bizarre, outrageous event and I couldn't imagine the draw. Now, I get it. It represents this desire...this desire to measure milestones in experiences. It represents complete freedom from materialistic society, from being judged, from limitations, real or imagined. I hope to count it among my experiences, sooner than later. Until then, I'll just be burning toast.
None of the above. I am am talking about desire. Burning desire. Still, the place I'm going here is not as sexy as it sounds. I'm talking about a burning desire to travel.
How's that for a teaser campaign? But, I digress.
I really haven't done much traveling. Never left the country...haven't even been to the Caribbean. Don't have a passport and never have.
This isn't a typical "I need a vacation" vent. My motivation is not to take a break from the burden of daily life. My daily life is not such a terrible burden. My motivation is to experience more. To be challenged. I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing out, and for a very good reason. I AM missing out! There is a whole big, wide world out there that I am missing.
I put this out there as an acknowledgment of this place in my evolution. As I move forward in my life, I am moving away from materialism. Not that I was ever materialistic, but that I have come to reject material as a gauge of my success or happiness. I reject the societal goal structure that measures milestones by material gain...buying a house, getting a raise, bigger, bigger, more, more. Don't get me wrong, I want to be comfortable and have what I need, but my definition of "need" has drastically changed in the last 5 years. I need to make sure I don't come to the end of my life knowing that I missed out.
Now, back to that burning sensation. Each year in the last week of August, thousands of people converge in the Nevada desert for an artistic free-for-all called Burning Man. There was a time when this event sounded to me like the most bizarre, outrageous event and I couldn't imagine the draw. Now, I get it. It represents this desire...this desire to measure milestones in experiences. It represents complete freedom from materialistic society, from being judged, from limitations, real or imagined. I hope to count it among my experiences, sooner than later. Until then, I'll just be burning toast.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Red Light
A friend of mine died today.
I hate this. This acute awareness of mortality. I can't help but believe that we are not meant to have this awareness so close to the skin. How are we supposed to walk through life, pulling ourselves along our little assigned time line knowing that the...stuff...the stuff that urges us along that line is so fleeting, and so much of it of no consequence? If I were not here tomorrow, the TV station would still be on the air, a new person would move into this apartment, all my possessions would go in the trash or to Goodwill. Life would continue just fine without me.
Ah, but.....mortality wouldn't be so big, so powerful, so painful, so influential, so...present, if that stuff were the only thing on our little time line. There are people on each time line. Our little lines intersect, weave in and out, entangle with every other life we encounter. When one time line comes to its end, every line entangled with it comes to a sudden stop. Depending upon the degree of the entanglement, the stop may last a moment, a few days, months....or the remainder of a life.
I am sad to think that most of the world will continue on as though my friend were never even here. Those lines that never crossed his will not pause. I will go to work tomorrow and do the things I do, but tonight, I paused. I stopped. I stared at a red stop light, transfixed by it while aware of a constant stream of cars racing by in both directions underneath. I welled up with tears and felt the loss. I felt a bit angry at the cars racing past as though nothing had happened. They should all stop, but they didn't.
I am unconcerned with how many pauses happen at the end of my time line. What difference will it make to me? I'll be gone. I am, however, VERY concerned about when I may have to stop again. I dread coming to a place where another person's mortality will stop me dead in my tracks. A mortal line so closely entwined with mine that I can't imagine dragging on without it. This is the awareness I hate.
I am so glad my life intersected with yours, Eddie. You are, perhaps, the most unique person I ever met. You were a big man with big flaws, perfectly balanced with big love, loyalty and joy. Rest in peace, my friend.
I hate this. This acute awareness of mortality. I can't help but believe that we are not meant to have this awareness so close to the skin. How are we supposed to walk through life, pulling ourselves along our little assigned time line knowing that the...stuff...the stuff that urges us along that line is so fleeting, and so much of it of no consequence? If I were not here tomorrow, the TV station would still be on the air, a new person would move into this apartment, all my possessions would go in the trash or to Goodwill. Life would continue just fine without me.
Ah, but.....mortality wouldn't be so big, so powerful, so painful, so influential, so...present, if that stuff were the only thing on our little time line. There are people on each time line. Our little lines intersect, weave in and out, entangle with every other life we encounter. When one time line comes to its end, every line entangled with it comes to a sudden stop. Depending upon the degree of the entanglement, the stop may last a moment, a few days, months....or the remainder of a life.
I am sad to think that most of the world will continue on as though my friend were never even here. Those lines that never crossed his will not pause. I will go to work tomorrow and do the things I do, but tonight, I paused. I stopped. I stared at a red stop light, transfixed by it while aware of a constant stream of cars racing by in both directions underneath. I welled up with tears and felt the loss. I felt a bit angry at the cars racing past as though nothing had happened. They should all stop, but they didn't.
I am unconcerned with how many pauses happen at the end of my time line. What difference will it make to me? I'll be gone. I am, however, VERY concerned about when I may have to stop again. I dread coming to a place where another person's mortality will stop me dead in my tracks. A mortal line so closely entwined with mine that I can't imagine dragging on without it. This is the awareness I hate.
I am so glad my life intersected with yours, Eddie. You are, perhaps, the most unique person I ever met. You were a big man with big flaws, perfectly balanced with big love, loyalty and joy. Rest in peace, my friend.
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