Filed under: Sanity
I know I still have to write about the fourth and final day of my most recent event, but wanted to take a moment to call out to a very special pretty pretty girl.
A dear friend of mine went through an experience this week that reminds you to always enjoy life to the fullest. She had a procedure that frightened the daylights out of her and us. Luckily, she is going to be okay and her attitude should be an inspiration to us all. Basically she said to me and Di one night that even if she got bad news, she would be okay. She simply did not have time for anything but okay.
Its funny how life works sometimes, here I am on the Cape hosting and entertaining, not sleeping and producing a crazy three day event. And yet, I was still focused on my friend. Monday, my longest day of the event, was probably the longest day of her life.
When I returned from the Cape, my husband showed me a whole bunch of pictures that he found while cleaning out his desk. Ironically enough, the majority of them were from a trip we took to Cabo San Lucas in January of 1999 with Di and Mo. This was the first trip with Mo and her husband and the first time I met Di. It is one of my all time favorite destinations and resorts and one of my all time favorite vacations. Its almost 8 years later and these two ladies have grown to be two of my closest friends.
Here’s to you Mosey – you sure are one pretty pretty girl and a pretty pretty wonderful friend.
Its Monday morning and the official start to the two day tournament. Our alarms went off before it was light out and we were on site armed with venti lattes for the 7:30AM load in. Today is the longest day of the event – we start at 7:30 AM and end about midnight. The day is all about working magic. You know what I mean – smoke and mirrors, pulling rainbow colored rabbits fom your ass and jumping through all kinds of hoops.
Let me stress again that this event is a golf tournament. So now we are up, caffeinated and at the golf course (which I hear is where most golf events take place.) The girls are setting up the auction and confirming everyones’ transportation, lodging and foursomes. This is like a game of musical chairs. I am supposed to be onsite supervising and meeting and greeting our sponsors and guests. But where do I find myself and what am I doing bright and early in the morning? Me, well I am arranging a wild man tennis match. This was my first call of the day. Sure enough 30 minutes later they are on court 5 with demo racquets, new balls and in a heated match. So heated in fact that they decided to strip off their shirts. Shirts and skins is never a good game at a private country club with the regular women’s round robin playing on court 3. Let’s just say these women all dressed in their tennis whites and my motley crew of boys were not a good match. Come on ladies these guys are famous. . .check out those physiques. . .so what if they swear and are screaming something about 1 mississippi. . .2 mississippi.. . 3 mississippi. Hoop #1.
Hoop #2 came a little later in the day. This time they were truly golfing on the golf course at the golf event. They had just enjoyed a smorgasbord of all kinds of wraps, sandwiches, salads and the staff at the club even wrapped, in groups of 3s, fresh baked cookies. They grabbed a few packs and hit the track. Lunch ended about 12:45 pm, shotgun was at 1pm and my phone went off at 2:05 pm. They, well really one group of five “starving” boys, were looking for the burgers and the dogs on the course. Did someone really read their schedules.. .but wait that is on the second day of the event. Day 1 we ate on the terrace at noon. It’s Monday the club and grill room are closed. Therefore–there were no burgers. And yet at about 2:35 pm there we were transporting 5 burgers to 5 “starving” boys.
After the burger incident, I found myself back at my house searching for toothpaste. Real toothpaste as opposed to the kind they just falsely advertise as toothpaste. Whatever this means. One of my great friend’s hubby is a dentist, every time she visits she brings travel toothpaste. We have 4 guestrooms – they come in handy. Anyway I grabbed two tubes and delivered them to the assistant. I was then told that he was a bad toothpaste user, could only squeeze from the middle and therefore needed a jumbo tube. That is when I remembered I could delegate. I delegated hoop 3 to the trusty handler. He went to CVS not me.
Hoops 4 – 8 all go to Beck and her new role of travel agent. She must have changed planes for people 8 times that day – 6 of which were all for the faulty door guy. She was kind of wishing they never found a replacement. Have to give him props though for calling her late the second night, after everyone had thankfully departed to say he needed a ride! But he was only kidding and was really calling to say thanks.
Hoop 9 goes to the staff at the Pro Shop. The same assistant that made the toothpaste run somehow managed to send the guys in the wrong direction. My last frantic call of the day came from our host saying he and his group were lost. They have maps and have played the course before but somehow found themselves going in the wrong direction. And therefore hitting in the wrong direction, which could have been a disaster. It was not their fault. Some guy in a striped shirt (the toothpaste assistant) pointed them in the wrong direction. I am no help, sad to say have lived on this course for 13 years, but never really been on the entire course. But I know who to call. Our trusty pro and rangers to the rescue.
We ended the first night with a touching speech from our host (one I have to say I have not heard him deliver like this in a long time. It and he were amazing), a great auction and private comedy show. I think these three guys were the funniest I have ever seen. Our guests had stomach aches from laughing so hard.
The first and hardest day was officially over. And we were off the clock. My girls and I celebrated a bit with the boys at the bar. Some of them started to dance and show us their moves. The best move, and at this point the most familiar move, was some sort of breakdancing. It entailed taking one foot and hopping and looping it through the other (I know, you have to see it). We found it very entertaining though because it really looked like a fancy jump.
We made them do it over and over again. They thought they were working us over to get us to come back to the villas with them to continue the party. Little did they know they were jumping through our hoops now.
Filed under: Events
The door fell off the plane.
Its Sunday morning and day 2 of our event. Most of our guests arrive today. Guests compromising both the invited and uninvited type. And remember this list is all athletes, celebrities, CEOs and CFOs. Think we had our hands full?
We started the day like we do any typical event day – to my ringtone. It got to the point that Becky had to start answering my phone. “Oh no Phil, what’s wrong?” Okay so you may be a little delayed, just keep us posted (she is calm but scary calm). Never a good thing to wake too, but we can handle anything I was saying to myself. The door fell off the plane.
Okay we have heard all kinds of excuses but this one I just had to laugh. There are just some things I can not control. The weather and any mechanical difficulties with planes topping the list. Although after 4 perfect days I am starting to think Mother Nature is a girlie girl too. Sunny and in the 70′s is perfect golf and perfect hair weather.
Delta managed to find another door and he arrived on time. Of course the rest of the event we kind of wished he never made it, but that’s a whole separate post (I am joking of course but good lord the stories that accompanied this one are out of control).
The rest of our day was pretty uneventful except for the fact that for some reason our entire day was focused on transportation and mechanical issues and questions. No one reads the information you send them. Which by the way includes starting times and directions. That would be just way too simple.
Our host even managed to forget that we golf on two different courses over the three days. He really forgot that we actually golfed in general. This is the third year of the event. It is exactly the same. Sometimes I wish there were more faulty doors.
His main concern was mechanical. He called me three times on the way to see if the villas had hair dryers. Upon the obligatory huge hug and kiss (he had an audience), he asked me again. And like I said, this time in front of others. One of our all time favorite guests answered him for me saying yes and if there was a problem with his hair dryer that they had “Brazilians that would blow on his head.”
Hair is coiffed and we are on our way. All the planes, trains and automobiles ran smoothly the rest of the day. The guys all arrived and were so excited for the event you could see it on their silly faces. I finally got it all figured out. They get to escape their jobs, families and ordinary lives to partake in days full of true male bonding over sports, booze, cigars and stories. It’s a three day hall pass. And for some reason this translates into anything goes – just ask “Captain Kirk”. He is new to the event but already I think it’s his all time favorite. He was nicknamed, rubbed and had his nipples flicked all in the first hour. Everyone is here, they are happy and the madness has officially begun. Knowing what madness is and does to my boys, I asked my trusty girls to get me extra sets of keys to the villas. Keys, like directions and brain cells, are easily lost. Guess who lost his before dinner?
All of a sudden I thought it was a good time for a sing-along.
The song made it through day 2 and so did we. Everyone was back on campus and familiar territotry. The guys insisted we stay and play with them (claimed we would add to the atmosphere), but what they failed to realize is that we start a lot earlier than they do the next day. Monday morning comes awfully fast and that three day pass does not extend to us.
They are handsome devils and as tempting as it is sometimes to stay, our brains match our beauty and we found that trap door and fell home.
Filed under: Events
I got it from my momma.
Our first major event of the fall season is here and within one hour we had our annual theme song courtesy of Will.I.Am. My poor girls, they know me all too well. I find a song and it sticks in my head. If it lived just in there we would be okay, but I manage to let it out and sing it all the time. I make everyone else chime in too. They go along with me, but I know it drives them crazy.
Anyway we have been driving around Cape Cod all day – picking up things, dropping off things, assembling things, moving things, reorganizing things, buying things, labeling things, perfecting things and basically doing every “thing” you can imagine before the arrival of our guests. In this case guests are both invited and uninvited and comprise celebrities, athletes, corporate CEO’s and CFO’s. In general, its a good lesson in what I like to call Ego Management. Welcome to Day 1.
We are ready – totally ready – but there are always those last minute little “things” that come up. After eleven years of doing this, we are even ready and almost look forward to those. I mean whats an event without a little drama. My response to anything that came up was the lyrics from this song. And I would ask my girls, “where’d you get that body from?’ And they would all smile and sing back, “I got it from my momma.”
Well not all of them. Remember those two wild cards I wrote about this summer. They are back but not singing. It’s okay though they arrived with working, fully charged, turned on and on their persons cell phones. I know this because they went as far as taking a picture of one of the phones showing me it was “on” and ready to go before they even set foot on site. Cut to that same phone landing on my driveway smashed into about 5 pieces. So where is that camera when you need it?
One of my other girls was hesitant about telling us some news, but we knew she wanted to tell us her secret. The last time this happened (meaning they sat me down to “tell” me someting) I found out that one of our interns had gone missing. So of course my immediate reaction was not too friendly. She said she was nervous to tell us but in interest of full disclosure she had to confess. Her roommate is dating a blowfish. As is one of the Hootie and the Blowfish. So if any readers want tickets. . . For the very reason her roomie is dating a blowfish, I thought she should be musically inclined. Hey Joni, where’d you get that body from?
Day 1 was actually a breeze. We can handle just about anything that comes our way from runaway interns to dating blowfish. And we have a new member in our dysfunctional famly. Becky Boo is on the team.
Hey Beck, where did you get that attitude from? I got it from my momma.
Filed under: Fierce
Yesterday two very different people told me that I was adaptable. I say they are very different mainly because one is a boy and the other a girl, but both their respective male and female perspectives managed to comment on my adaptability. I just had to smile.
The first comment came at lunch. I had just finished a production and press walk thru on 50th Street and had about 45 minutes to grab lunch with another client to review a proposal we are drafting together to pitch a certain singer who recently rocked Fashion Rocks with Mary J. Blige (this in my opinion was the best act of the night).
Anyhow, I arrived a few minutes late and had to pee (lots of coffee and water that morning on the train). We didn’t have a lot of time so I just asked him to order for me. Our food arrived and it was just okay. I said it was fine and that’s when he commented on my adaptability. Not in those exact words, but that was the jist. He actually said he would have never believed that I was the type of girl who he thought enjoyed fine food and wine but could also probably have a great time drinking beer in some dark dive bar with no widows. Um excuse me, do I look like the dive bar type? And especially not yesterday – I was rocking new wide leg jeans, a Marni cami, vest and Dries Van Noten cashmere cardigan. Oh and my gold Prada wedges. Think before you speak Cooks he is a client. And he only being nice and implying that I didn’t like what he ordered, but did not complain. He is lucky he is the client. My poor husband would have had an earful.
I smiled and then had to tell him (very politely) that first of all I don’t drink beer, and second, I truly despise dark dive bars with no windows. The idea of them scares me mainly because I can’t stand the stench of stale beer and smoke, the stickiness of the floor and the trapped feeling that comes over me when there is only one exit and no windows. My claustrophobia has gotten worse as I get older. But as you can learn from my above description I have visited a few dive bars in my day. I lived across the street from Mary Ann’s my senior year at Boston College. . .enough said. I explained all of this to him too. More info than he bargained for I am sure. But he laughed and I did too. So glad the girlie girl in me is in tact. And he now believes that I am adaptable by choice.
The second comment came last night from a dear friend of mine. We have not seen each other in a while and I was determined to see her. I was also determined to see another super friend of mine, my stylist. I stayed in the city last night just to see him. I have been calling him now for days – actually since I wrote my last blog complaining about the fact that I needed a haircut desperately. I am a girl of my word. Sure enough my schedule this week was all based around my hair and I was not going to quit or go home until I got my appointment. I called Dominick for days on his cell. If I couldn’t get him I would text. I also tried calling the salon a number of times but their phones do not work. Instant frustration. And for Christ sake what capable salon can function without a phone? I was beside myself. Turns out he was stuck in California and in a plane from 6AM – 8PM. When he finally got cell service back, he returned to about 10 crazy messages from me (not including the texts) and also some from his salon. Managed to finally get through and was told he has no time for you. I lost it on them both. And then there are the times that diva in me roars its pretty, but in dire need of a shaping, head.
“Honey I have been away and now I am doing the shows, just come in after 6 and I will squeeze you in. I always do.” This was the message that changed my attitude. It is Fashion Week and he is in demand. Yet still will make time for me.
He sang this next one. “Sweets I am running about 20, well maybe 40 minutes late. Okay, don’t call the salon the phones don’t work. Oh and I left my cell at home. Okay can’t wait to see you. Love ya.” This was the message I heard in a taxi on my way to my appointment. I have been waiting 11 weeks to get my haircut, what is 40 minutes more. Plus I am downtown and the shops are still open. I did what any girl would do, I went shopping. And may I add, I scored!
Sarah met me at the salon and we went to dinner at Paradou. It’s a sweet wine bar and bistro in the area that is very yum and attracts some hipsters, but not as crowded as some of the other hot spots. It was the perfect atmosphere to catch up with a friend and show off a great cut. We talked about boys, clothes, work and hair. She too now goes to Dominick and appreciated my story. She made her adaptability comment to me when I showed her my treasures I found on my “suddenly I have some time on my hands spur of the moment shopping spree.”
To her, I am now known as an “adaptable diva.” I like this name and I love my haircut. On my way home now to sport my new do.
Filed under: Style
I am on the train again heading home after two days of production meetings in NYC. It was a productive trip work wise but sadly there was no time to start the fall wardrobe (I am dying to hit the 3 B’s and downtown boutiques) or for any beauty maintenance treatments. I was too busy strategizing, planning and creating instead of self pampering, polishing and shopping. It leaves me wondering if I can be a true working girl and a girlie girl at the same time.
This week in particular I was really looking forward two very important appointments both about hair. First, I wanted to go and see my tried and true stylist Dominick who I honestly have not visited since early June. I miss him and the fierce cut that has now completely grown out. Most of my meetings and the big event I am planning for currently are in mid-town. Dominick is in the Meat Packing neighborhood. I meant to get down there this week and actually did for a dinner meeting on Wednesday night, but did not have the extra hour and a half plus I would need to get the locks properly shaped. And I do not trust anyone else with a pair of shears. So I am returning to Boston with my hair in a tried and true ponytail which when let down grazes the top of my butt. This by the way is the perfect segue into the next area that needs some pruning. . . .I meant to get down there too.
Although Dominick was geographically unavailable, mid-town happens to be the home of those famous Brazilian sisters and where I prefer to get my Brazilian waxes. The hotel that I have been staying at recently is located on the next street. There is even a tunnel connecting the two streets. It could not be any more convenient. It takes all of 15 minutes – these girls are that quick and that good. And yet, here I am sitting on the train with my hair in a ponytail and well let’s just say the other area is still in need of a “shaping” too. We are well past the tweener stage here; it’s more like “Ground under Repair.”
Again with all my scheduled meetings, dinners and walk-thrus, there was not enough time. Or it was a simple case of poor planning on my part. This as a working girl ironically is not something an event producer should ever use as an excuse. A girlie girl would never have to.
The fact that I am actually upset about my appointments or lack there of, proves to me that I am indeed a girlie girl. But this girlie girl loves her job and loves to work. Next trip there will be no excuses and my meetings will just have to be planned around my already scheduled appointments.
As an event producer my clients are super high on my priority list. But topping this list and priority number one is to simply be a girl.
Filed under: Sanity
Today in theory is the official end to summer. The kids go back to school this week, the stores are full of knits and boots, the nights are chilly, football starts to replace baseball and I even spotted Brachs candy corn in the candy aisle at the grocery store. (Note to self: stay away). It is the first Monday of September and for centuries we have been celebrating the “working man” on this day. Labor Day is also the symbolic end to summer.
It’s so funny that we give the working man this day off. Many of the working men and women I know have been taking Mondays off now since Memorial Day, or the symbolic start to summer. Long weekends are so popular in the summer. I am a huge fan. In fact, I have been know to add a few Fridays as well!
This weekend was no exception. It was the perfect way to end my summer. We came down late Thursday night. Traffic was heavy, but we made good time. Friday was overcast and felt like fall. There would be no sun today so I worked a bit and decided to shop. There is one store down here (yes sad only one) that I frequent. I figured I would just throw an eye.
Friday night we went to a dinner party at our friends house. They were going back to Spain on Sunday and it has become tradition that they host the end of the season party. They are only here for two short months and there is never enough time. They have six children, ages 20 months to 20 years. I love spending time with them and watching them all grow.
Saturday was picture book perfect. There was not a cloud in the sky and the sun warmed everything up. I started my day by doing 45 minutes on the eliptical and then a full pilates mat session. Great workout. I was ready to get some sun. My friend Nancy told me I needed some color. She was right, I was not sporting a true end of the summer tan. She came over and we sat in the sun all afternoon. My tan came back in less than 3 hours.
I remembered this pink lemonade mix I bought at a local country store sometime in June. It was called Sipperville and I was attracted to its packaging. (I am such a sucker) Anyway it was a bright pink oval tin with a black and white photograph of three lovely ladies working at a telephone switchboard. The package even named them and told their story. Ethyl, Gertrude and Edna were swtich board operators in a town called Sipperville. Hence the name. They worked all day and dreamt of their futures and all the extra income they would enjoy from selling their special recipe.
I made a pitcher. Nancy and I sipped it the rest of the afternoon. It also moonlights as a great mixer for drinks. We had a wonderful summer day. My house is like grand central station most weekends. Family and friends are always coming and going, and quite honestly, I love it. This summer we didn’t really have alot of house guests, and although it was by choice (I truly needed some mental space), I did miss the revolving door aspect having a summer home usually brings. Today felt like old times. Nancy was there all day. My parents dropped by and stayed out back with us for a while. My brother-in-law, his wife and kids stopped over and our friends’ two daughters (part of the six from Spain) came over later and stayed for dinner. I had also scheduled a massage for late that afternoon. Add Anne (my massage therapist) into the equation and you have a completely perfect and typical day.
Sunday was a repeat performance. It was another gorgeous day and I bascially did everything all over again. Worked out, met with the golf pro about an event I am producing here later in the month, made a delicious and healthy lunch with fresh veggies (the tomatoes are so meaty and absolutely to die for) and sat in the sun all afternoon with Nancy. Mike joined us after his round of golf. We all sipped pink lemonade. Last night we went to the club for the traditional end of the season barbeque. We dressed in sweaters, sat outside and made plans to visit each other over the fall and winter months.
Today, Labor Day, I woke up ready to say good bye to summer and to embrace fall. It is another spectacular day and warmer than the past two days. In honor of all the working souls out there, I made plans to go to the beach to do what I love to do best. I realize it is probably the last time I will go to sunbathe this season, however, want to make an effort to get here more this fall. As you can imagine, the Cape and the beach are amazing the next few months.
I find it very ironic that I remembered this mix I previously bought but never opened, on a weekend that is dedicated to the working man, or in the case of Sipperville, to the working woman. I am going to make another pitcher of pink lemonade and take some road kits with me. I may even ring Ethyl, Gertrude and Edna and see if they want to come to the beach. I bet those girls knew how to have a good time.
Happy Labor Day! Today enjoy some pink lemonade and drink to your future.