Today I get to spend a goodly part of my day working on advertising. It’s the most challenging part of my job and kind of gives me a little bit of the heart palpitations because the deadlines are usually insane. I just spent an hour on the phone with my Canuckian designer who always seems to talk about 20 minutes longer than my attention span can handle. So the last parts of the conversation always see me totally not paying attention and him getting frustrated with my space cadetedness. It’s just as all good designer/copywriter relationships should be, I guess.

I will be working on the ad stuff accompanied by the musical stylings of Mr. T Experience, because I’ve decided to become completely obsessed with Frank Portman. I figured why the hell not? My crush card is totally empty at the moment, and celebrity crushes seem to fill the need in a pinch. It’s not ideal, I know. I’d much rather have a flesh and blood boy to daydream about. It’s kinda how like when you were a kid digging around for some sort of candy and you found the baker’s chocolate way back in the top cupboard above the stove. For those few magical moments, before you actually try the chocolate, you’re pretty sure you have hit the chocolate jackpot.