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Of Books and Bathrooms

~ Carie ~ Leave a comment

I managed to get most of my things out of boxes. It was more difficult than the packing portion because it seems to have increased in size while stored away. Stored boxes, like luggage while traveling, seem to be the Tribbles of modern society. Luckily, I labeled every box. Even with the labeling system, I was surprised by what I had packed. The several months I had been away from my things was long enough to forget some of them. There were lingering breaks involved which I spent distracted by flipping through my college photo album, pictures of my trip to Ireland from all those years ago, and placing all of my books back on the shelves.

Putting the books away took a bit longer than expected. I spent some of the time dividing them by category—and alphabetizing them by author. Guest room is non-fiction, religion, equine reference, and my Mark Twain collection. The sitting room is fiction, poetry, foreign language, music reference, and antique books. Kitchen is cooking, of course. The living room contains personal work, research, and general reference. Then there’s my room, which houses three gilded volumes: the complete works of William Shakespeare, Rudyard Kipling and Guy du Maupassant. Laugh all you want, but now was the time to get it done. One of my friends noted it wasn’t as much a house but a library that looked like a house. Yes. I agree.

Books reside in every room except the bathrooms. I believe keeping books and magazines in the bathroom is disgusting. My mother would disagree with me. Most of my apprehension involves the thought of germs, a small portion is the extra humidity, and the last is time spent in the bathroom.

Paper and water don’t mix. Period. Damp paper never dries right. Pages ripple and stick together, and there’s the mildew. I would say that’s gross by itself, but here’s what truly grosses me out: no one needs to spend that much time on the toilet.

If you are one of those individuals who takes reading materials with you, maybe you need to see a doctor. It can indicate, at the least, you have gastro-intestinal issues. Don’t start debating with me it’s your private time, or it’s a “retreat”. There are work retreats and military retreats. I don’t want to spend time doing either, and I’m not going to refer to my bathroom as one. It is a lavatory, bathing room, toilet, water closet, etc. Whatever your terminology, “retreat” does not qualify. Get out of your bathroom, and please, keep my reading material out of it.

The Anti-Christmas

~ Carie ~ Leave a comment

I loathe christmas. Yes, with a lower-case “c.” In my eyes, there’s not a lot of Christ in it any more. Why? Let’s go back to the fact I work in advertising. We’re in full gear on holiday advertising. We’ve talked about it, run the estimates, negotiated the prices, ordered the product, worked on concepts and attended far too many meetings. By the time the Clydesdales make their appearance on TV (and, oh, how I love those beautiful horses), I will want to slap anyone who brings up Santa or shopping.

Don’t get me wrong. I take every chance I get to spend time with my family and friends. I just don’t enjoy the holiday. It is too commercialized. Look at it. People camp out for days in front of stores just to get a cheap television, cheap toy or cheap t-shirt. Is this really how we give thanks? Is this what we want to teach our children? I guess so. Our gods aren’t solely made of gold anymore. They’re made of plastic, glass, motherboards and flammable fabrics. That aside, wouldn’t you be better off spending all of that time with your friends, spouse or children?

Granted, my job is to make you want to do these things, but what happened to your brain? My own godchildren are too busy checking out the labels to understand the meaning of the gift. I give because I care about the person. And watch out, if I write you a letter (which I try my darndest to do amidst my tumultuous schedule), I am expressing a high level of admiration for our friendship. I’ve broken out the stationery and the fountain pens to express my thoughts. I have more love for the epistolary arts than I do for the holiday season.

This might be why I search for the right Christmas cards. I like to be inclusive of all of my family and friends. I like the cards which wish peace and joy for the season and the New Year ahead instead of focusing solely on Christmas or Santa. Don’t start with me about dropping “the reason for the season.” The reason is peace on earth and good will toward man. I wonder if we could all remember that every once in a while.

Off to Work I Go

~ Carie ~ Leave a comment

I work in advertising—not the dramatic world of Mad Men, but in actual advertising. My specialty at the moment is deadlines. I’m not the one setting them. I am the one racing toward them. I take massive print and digital projects and whittle them down into the understandable and achievable. I manage art directors, layout designers, and copywriters in the dog eat dog world of retail advertising. It’s fun to be in the grit of the creative process, but, for me, it’s even more fun to see the work completed and out the door. I’ve always felt that way.

If I weren’t juggling multiple projects and didn’t need to rush headlong into the next one, I’m sure I’d be wrapped up in the anticipation of the launch. The break of a campaign is a delight, but the next big thing on the list is there to distract me. As it is now, I wake up one morning and WHAM! There it is.

When I was younger, the strangest moment was seeing someone I didn’t even know walking around with my work. It lit the oddest emotions. A flittering of shock in which it took a second to realize, yes, I did create that. I didn’t dawn on me what the reach of my occupation truly was until one vacation I took in upstate New York. I walked into a tiny boutique, and when I checked out, on the counter next to where I set my purse stood a holder filled with a brochure I had built for a basketball team. The sales clerk picked one up and held it out for me. She suggested I go to a game, “All the info on the team is right here.” A long, drawn out “wow” echoed in my head.

Over the span of years I have been in advertising, my work has appeared in all 50 states and several other countries. It’s a strange thought for me, even now. Someone in another country, let alone just another state, has seen something I created. Granted, it’s not a Picasso, but it is the work that pays me.

If you’ve opened a newspaper, had a USPS address, or signed up for emails from several corporations over the last several years (I won’t say how long), you’ve touched something I either created myself or helped through the creative process to get to you. You may not like me for that. You may be ranting I’m just a cog in a giant machine, but here’s the truth: I know almost every American between the ages of twenty-four and sixty-four have seen something I’ve done. That’s a pretty powerful thought.