New York - A Huge Pill

I've taken the past few days off since returning from New York City to reflect on the madness that occurred within a weeks time. To say that my life has changed in the previous week would undermine everything that I experienced. To sum it up - New York was my alarm call.

For the past few months, maybe even the past few years, I've allowed myself to fall into a life of complacency - driven mostly by my ego and most definitely by laziness. It's easy to be one of the "best" in a city like San Jose - thankfully New York gave me a big sister "Nu uh!"

In addition to a much needed reality check, New York has provided me with some really great stories. Let me start off with the creation of the term Bartended.

Background: Chuck (a long-time friend, confidante, and fellow lush), his sister Jennifer and I decide to go out for drinks at Splash, New York's answer to the utterly cookie-cutter gay bar. On this particular night the majority of the bar patrons were singing along to The Wiz, Cabaret and Chorus Line (just to name a few). To avoid the sing-a-long madness, the three of us decided to go downstairs. There, we found solace in cozy couches and expensive drinks. After two jack & cokes, we all saw Brian - the bartender from Jersey. Clad in translucent white chonies - we all thought we had found the most perfect man on earth. The remainder of the night Brian served up mean drinks, flirted with Jen and let me touch his pectorals - this was on top of the free drinks he shelled out. By the end of the night - I was drunk, Chuck was poor, and Jennifer was in love.

So we went back the next night.

This time we made a bee-line straight to Brian. However, the Brian from the night before (the one who melted Jen Jen's heart and made Chuck and I say Mmm mmm mmm) was not anywhere to be found. Instead - the Brian we found was arrogant, shallow and wearing different undies! Needless to say, we left early. In the cramped quarters of a cab - Jennifer proclaimed: We've been bartended!

Bartended (v.): the process by which a bartender flirts, flits and flutters into a customers mind, body and soul with the purpose of getting the most buck for his bang.

Don't even think of hijacking this definition - it's my Urban Dictionary!

Moving on - As part of the SJSU Ad group, I was granted the opportunity to meet with representatives from Deutsch NYC and McCann Erickson. Both agencies made us feel at home and gave presentations that demonstrated each agencies strengths and gave us an overview of many of the departments within an agency. I couldn't have been more happy with the information that each bestowed upon us - particularly the advice given for those of us going into art direction (if you're wondering - I love copy).

At the recommendation of a McCanner, I spent a night gyrating to one of the best sets I've heard in a while at the Marquee. Admittedly, I've been so out of the club scene since leaving LA last summer (perhaps even longer). So the notion of working the line and a promoter was daunting, particularly because I was solo. Needless to say - I must have seemed completely eager and so uncool because I showed up at 10:30 or so. After a few sips of Jameson, the awkwardness quickly faded and before I knew it I was slurring directions to a cab driver - I love this slurred language, it's so ridiculous scandalous!

The rest of the trip was quite a blur - but there is one story that I may share with you at a later date (as I am quickly finding this blog to be entirely too long - but then again, it's been entirely too long since I've really blogged).

I just want to say a friendly San Josian Hello to the Catalonians, Mr. 7 years later (aka Mr. Catherine Malandrino), Mr.Tag, Miss.Iliveacrossthestreetfromagaybarandwilldoanythingforsex, and Lilly (who has been on my ass for weeks now to get this thing going again).


In the weeks to come, look forward to a new direction with this blog. As I am feeling completely revived from hibernation, I will be discussing all things from great advertising, the ad industry, magazine spreads/articles that rock and of course, the weekly meal I treat myself for a job-well-done at the end of every week. That's not too hard to swallow now, is it?