I found a parking place

Someone once told me that finding a creative advertising job in San Francisco is a little like finding a parking place: if you keep circling, you’ll eventually find one, but you have to be patient.

I guess patience finally paid off. Today - 2 years, 11 months and 22 days after I left my boring career in marketing - I slid myself right into an available space. And not a 10-minute zone freelance kind of space. A full-time you’re gonna have to pry my ass out of this space ‘cause I got the club across my wheel kind of space. That’s right, I’m gainfully employed as a full-time copywriter. Woohoo! Health insurance, 401 K, flex spending – you will be mine!

Ironically enough, I worked here part-time while I was in ad school so it was nice to return and see lots of friendly, familiar faces. Only now they have a lot more awards. Good for them. And good for me! A round of paychecks for everyone!

You’ve GOT to be kidding me
Believe it or not, I haven’t watched “The Bachelor” since my previous entry so I have no idea what’s going on. But I tuned in tonight and heard the most ridiculous, most naïve thing that only someone of the male persuasion could be clueless enough to utter.

Two girls that he rejected were invited back to “help” him decide which 2 of the remaining 6 deserved to go on private dates with him. The Bachelor’s take on this was something like this: “I mean, these girls are here to help me. I have no doubt that they only have my very best interests at heart despite the fact that I didn’t choose them.” OH. MY. GOD. Guys, really….tell me you’re not all that clueless. Girls, am I lyin’? We know those girls are only interested in exercising their new found power against the 1 or 2 girls that they didn’t like, right?

Oh, and one last thing. How come no one on this show even makes an effort to say the French words correctly? Is it so hard to say “bohn joor” instead of “bonn joo-er”? NO!! For the love of GOD!

The Devil went down to Bacon Grease
Alright, alright, I know it’s been a while since I’ve blogged but don’t worry, I haven’t sold my soul to Satan. I was merely nursing a slight injury which prevents me from waving around my laptop which once felt light but now makes my back feels like its supporting 600 pounds of titanium instead of 4.

Anyway, I said a quick prayer for relief – you know the kind, the “Overpromise, Underdeliver”: “Please God, let this ripping pain in my lower back go away and I promise to buy 5 ‘Street Sheets’ a week for the rest of the year.”. And lo and behold, when I next checked my email someone had forwarded me a new blog by this old guy.

Huh. Not sure what to make of him yet but given my recent musings about organized religion I think I’m gonna be checking him out regularly to see what he has to say. Is he the real deal? I don’t know. I can’t say that I really like him if he is who he says is but maybe he can shed some light from the other side on what the hell is going on in our world. It’s always good to have multiple viewpoints. Plus he says that Ryan Seacrest and Mark Burnett are part of his “team” (Terri Hatcher? That hooker’s gotta be on the list too…double-check). He’s like an In Touch magazine from the bowels of hell. And you know I loves me some celebrity gossip, no matter what the origin.

So Prince B, I’m adding you to my blog roll. Don’t for a second think you’ve “got” me, because you don’t…and you never will. I’ll be watching you.