Isabelle Prescott

( Injuries may be forgiven, but not forgotten )

And once again, my entire office smells like the sewers. Just Mexican instead of Irish this time. And really, I don't particularly think General Seguiín would appreciate the commemoration of his victory with cheap tequila and watery beer.

Never mind the fact that Corona bears a disturbingly likeness to urine.

When I am queen, all holidays that exist solely for the purpose of public drunkenness shall be banned.

ALEX.  Need more coffee.  If you throw in a couple of shots of whiskey, I'll give you a bonus. 

Our esteemed CEO is spending the week in California at the Four A's conference and while this would ordinarily seem like a blessing, he won't stop emailing me with his supposedly "brilliant" ideas.  How this man ever rose to the head of the agency, I will never know.  But I'm vaguely considering breaking another blackberry to get a reprieve from having to read more of his inanities every five minutes.  When the compendiums seem more sane, something is seriously wrong.

And not that I expect many of you lot to be aware, much less care, but the business section of the New York Times is downright annoying these days.  Apparently we are in a so-called "recession."  If you ask me, people are just looking for an excuse to whine about being poor.  You were poor six months ago, you're still poor now, I fail to see what has changed.

[Private to Alex]
[Following this conversation]

Alex-
Two new interns will be starting on Monday.  Deal with them.  The guy is going to the copywriters and the girl to accounts.  Unless you have some use for her - then just claim her for yourself.  As long as they're productive.  And find fifteen minutes in my schedule so I can talk to them.

[Private to Adam]

Adam-
When is the next time you'll be in Manhattan?

I loathe April Fool's Day.  If there was a day that I could have stricken from the calendar, tomorrow would be it.

I hope you are all enjoying your hangovers.

To do:  (And yes, this is a proper to-do list, not some trashy list of men I would like to sleep with.  As if I would ever create such a thing.)

- Fire assistant
- Resist urge to subject now-former assistant to medieval torture devices
- Find a florist  [Scribbled in after a few minutes] in no way connected to Neverlanders
- Hire new assistant
- Attempt to explain to the new creative guy why De Beers will not be pleased with an advertising campaign focused on making diamonds more accessible
- Figure out what the new creative guy's name is
- Fire new creative guy
- Pick up dry cleaning
- Buy a new blackberry

The week is not off to a terribly auspicious beginning. 

I don't suppose anyone with some semblance of competence in administrative matters and errand-running is looking for a job?  Yes, I'm quite serious.  It pays well.

So after five solid months of bending over backwards to make the most annoying client in the world happy, I have now landed the biggest deal of my career.  Robert finally signed the papers with the agency giving us a three year, exclusive contract with Eli Lilly and Company to handle all of their North American advertising.  And the best part?  Besides the generous financial incentives and public recognition, of course.  I just gave myself three years of absolute and total job security by convincing Robert to demand a clause that would void out the contract if for any reason I am no longer employed by JWT.  God, I love my job.

So in three months when you start seeing absolutely brilliant ads for Prozac and Cialis on TV, that will be the work of my team.  We'll make you happy and get you laid.

Now if only I could figure out what to do with all of the free time I'm going to have. 

[After reading this article]

Courtesy of this morning's Times, we have perhaps one of the more profound quotes that I've seen in quite some time.  (And yes, that would be sarcasm.)

"Genital warts are a really yucky disease..."

Now you would think that such a comment would come from... oh I don't know, a twelve year old boy, perhaps?  But no, that particularly observation comes from a PhD in psychology and college professor.  Brilliant, just brilliant.

Apparently they want to start marketing Gardasil - the cervical cancer vaccine - to boys in an attempt to create herd immunity for the girls.  All I can say is that I do not want to be in charge of that particular advertising campaign.

I can't believe I'm asking  Is anyone particularly familiar with overpriced French wines?  I need to impress a client who apparently will not drink anything that is not from France.  Cachet is apparently more important than taste and yes, I have tried to sell him on the virtues of a quality Napa Cabernet.  If it doesn't start with Chateau, it is apparently unacceptable.

I would send my assistant, but she would probably return with a $10 bottle of Gewurztraminer.

Never again will I leave the unpacking of my belongings to others, I swear.  Apparently the movers who I entrusted with my possessions seemed to think that my Compendium belonged with the cookbooks for some ungodly reason.  Now why on earth would I look there?  I've been wondering where it was for a good three months now, although I haven't exactly had time for it with the Eli Lilly account meeting coming up.  I trust I haven't missed anything terribly interesting.  And no, semi-nude pictures do not count as interesting.

Although it is wonderful to be back in New York again.  And not just because I was starting to think I would never get the smell of patchouli out of my hair.  Someone really ought to erect a buildboard in the Haight to remind people that a liberal dousing of patchouli oil does not in any way substitute for a proper shower.