Sunday, June 02, 2013

GUT CHECK :: BEING UNCOMFORTABLE by coco & kelley

It’s been far too long since we’ve had one of my personal posts around here, but I’ve had a harder time than usual trying to put life into words lately. It’s now almost June and I can confidently say that this year has been challenging in a whole new way for me. The past few months have been a series of stops and starts. One moment I’ll be forging ahead, making progress, creating little projects for myself, and the next, I’ll be bored, frustrated, or unfulfilled. The most annoying part of all of this has been trying to figure out why. And how to fix it. If you recall, around this time last year, I finally hit the pause button on the amount of crazy I was allowing in my life. For the first time in years I was going to bed at a decent hour. I began blowing off my to-do list to go sailing and my weekends promptly began at noon on Friday. Whenever I traveled for work, I added days on to the trip to spend more time with friends. I suppose I could even say I found a bit of balance. I mean, didn’t I earn that? That little bit of time off? Sure. But guess what? This whole ‘balance’ thing? Not so sustainable when you’re running your own company. During that time where I finally gave myself room to breathe… I forgot what it was to be uncomfortable. To have that fire in your belly (or under your ass). To dream big, and forge ahead. To push back against fear and the unknown. I had checked off my big goals. I had put in my time. I became super comfortable with being comfortable. Little did I know that being comfortable for too long can only lead to one thing. Boredom. Or, what I like to call the paralyzing… “Now What?” So, I read it… like three months ago. And I let it simmer a bit. And I kept going back to it. Something about it tugged at me. And in the meantime, I struggled with this whole feeling frustrated and unmotivated thing. And then I began to ask myself… what happened? That desire to push a little harder, to take those risks – where’d it all go? Well, it all fell into the big black hole of ‘Now What?’ is what happened. It’s funny – you work so hard to get out of this place of uncertainty, and then once it’s gone, you realize how much you actually need it. So much so that even when you’re already doing something you love, you still have to ask yourself “What part of this do I love?” just to figure out what the next steps are. I had been sitting around waiting for inspiration to strike. For the next big thing to show up on my doorstep. I was looking to everyone else to bring back that fire. Everyone but myself. I started looking around me to see what others were doing – I’m sure you’ve all noticed that bloggers aren’t exactly just blogging anymore. They’re writing books, and teaching classes, styling photo shoots, and coming up with product lines. And in the meantime everyone’s asking “what’s next?” and I’m sitting over here overanalyzing the endless possibilities, frozen by the exhausting potential of it all. After all, I thought I was happy being comfortable – why did I want to start adding more crazy to the list? I spent months just waiting for direction and answers to come my way… In my 20′s it seemed ok to be a little risky with my decision-making. That’s what your 20′s are for, right? I didn’t expect to extend this behavior into my 30′s. In fact, I think I’ve been forcing myself to settle in a bit. To actually think smaller and act responsibly. To put down some roots. But, that’s not the complete answer. What I need to achieve now is a new kind of balance. Not this work/life balance that we all talk about, but the balance between realizing yes, I’m entering a time in my life where I need to think more long term, but I’m still young and there are too many opportunities out there to take advantage of while I can, with all I’ve been given. At some point – if and when I have a husband and a family – I will happily settle down a bit more (I mean, seriously), but that’s not where my life is right now. And if that means bigger risks and decisions ahead again, I’m all in. So here’s to being uncomfortable. May it bring you to new levels, new loves and new life.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Life, lately (Kendi everyday)

This is a post I've tried to write many times over the last two years. Well, more so in the last year I suppose. It's a block in my mind, a mountain I can't get over and so I don't write it -- or rather I write it, delete it and never post it. I talk myself out of it, out of fear of the unknown. But I've come to the point where I don't know if I can move forward with my blog if I don't climb this proverbial mountain. Over the last two years, I've become quite a different person than you first met. I did something incredible -- I opened up a boutique. I started an online shop. I continued to blog 3-4x a week, sometimes 5. (I should note that I did all of this with the help of my husband, the best man I've ever met.) I have been a machine of production. I've always been someone who has enjoyed work and feared ever being seen as lazy thanks to a sharp-tongued piano teacher in my early years who warned me that smartest kids are the laziest and I was brilliant. (Turns out, by the way, I can't read sheet music. Years later I would teach myself guitar by ear. Lazy that, music lady.) I slowly allowed my work to take over my identity. If I received positive feedback, I used it as fuel to keep going. If I received negative feedback, I used it as fuel to become better. And slowly but surely with every hour spent, I became less and less of myself and more and more of a machine. My life was statistics, sales, numbers, goals, budgets, deadlines, and taxes due. Which is a garden for feelings of worry, anxiety and stress to grow. And grow they did. I tended to my garden well, constantly finding something else wrong to fix, constantly on the lookout for negative feedback so that I could conquer it, finding something else that wasn't in my control so that I could take it over. And as any good gardener, I watered the plants daily with fear; I was never at rest in my garden of anxiety. About 6 months into opening bloom, I started to sleep less and less. I was getting around 4 hours a night. Not because I would go to sleep late, but because I would wake up in cold sweats filled with anxiety, staying up with my thoughts. I would wake my husband up and ask about the simplest of fears: "did we lock the door?" "are you sure?" "did I pay that bill?" "did you email her back?" Soon enough the small things in life, like locking a door, became shadows in my world. And when something as small as locking a door becomes a fear, the rest of life can become debilitating. Because as well as we know day turns to night, shadows turn light into dark. I had my first panic attack in 2008 when we moved to Kerrville. We had two weeks to move and we couldn't find anywhere to live in the small, retirement community. I had just put in my two weeks at my job back in Dallas and although happy to move forward, the future was not looking as hopeful as I'd thought. We had another unsuccessful trip to find somewhere to live and on the long 6 hour trip back home, I started to cry. Those tears turned into gasps for air as I felt as though I couldn't breathe and I felt as if I was having a heart attack. If you've had a panic attack before, then you know this feeling. It's almost comical now to think that at 23 years old I thought this was the end for me -- the house search had done me in. We pulled over at a gas station and I raced for a curb -- I didn't care who saw me, I was certain I was either going mad or dying. Turns out, it was a panic attack. A feeling I would come to know well in just a few years. Side note: this post is hard to write. Writing a blog is a weird thing. At first, it's a project -- it's something fun you do, you look forward to creating new content, creating new outfits, meeting new people. And you slowly share bits of your life with people over the course of the years; some people like your life, some people don't. But I stopped sharing my life a few years ago. At first I didn't share opening the store because I never wanted to come off as bragging or prideful and I didn't know if I could handle criticism. (Although now I wish I would have, as I know a lot of you do, too. It's funny the things I'm most proud of, I rarely share for fear of God knows what.) And then like a song I know all too well, depression started creeping into my light-filled life. And everything in my world was kept on lock from you. It was a slow entrance; polite almost. It knocked on a few of my doors and I ignored it. I kept smiling, kept working, kept moving. I just stopped sharing the other side. As I'm sure a lot of you are thinking -- how can someone look so normal and happy in a photo but be depressed? I'm actually scared and impressed of how much I can ignore my own small voice for the sake of saving face. I'd venture to say that employees, friends and family members didn't know for many months. That is until it slowly welcomed itself into every door of my life. Depression has looked different in many stages of my life. It first hit me when I was 16 years old. Then again at 20, and now at 28. When I was 16, there were a lot of emo poems written. (I am not kidding you and if I'm correct, I'm pretty sure they are in a closet at my parent's.) Now I can look back and laugh at the long, saga poems I wrote but at the time, it was a sad existence. I remember sitting in a dark room, not wanting to talk to anyone, see anyone or do anything. For a 16 year old with a new car, that's not a good feeling. At 20, I remember ended up in the same dark room, but this time I turned to music and not writings of teen poetry. Thankfully Bright Eyes and other emo musicians were popular at the time so no one suspected anything of me. I'd call my mother crying, she threatened to drive the three hours from home and take me out of school. That's not what I wanted to hear so I didn't call for a while. A few weeks ago, I hit a wall. I couldn't think straight, I couldn't concentrate, I didn't want to do anything. I could no longer hear the voice in my head that sounded familiar, that reminded me of the good things, that helped me create. I figured I was just tired, that I had been working too much again. Usually I would get so stressed that I would end up sick and have to spend a few days in bed and then start over again refreshed, but I wasn't getting sick so I thought I was okay. (Correction: I thought I'd finally conquered that weak-ass immune system once and for all.) So we took some time off and tried to relax. The next day at work in the shop, I was sorting camisoles to be tagged. A simple task. I kept getting them confused and mixed up. I couldn't figure it out and ended up having a panic attack. Thankfully I was alone in the shop and no one saw the breakdown. My mom came, picked me up from work and took me home, just like she offered to in college. But this time I let her. I spent the next three days in bed. Aside from my genetic makeup that gives way to depression, our life has become quite chaotic. We work about 6 and a half days a week. And as it turns out I am a control freak. (Neat!) We have become accustomed to being stressed out. We've become accustomed to letting our stress wreck havoc on bad habits that include french fries and wine. We have also realized in all of this, that's not what life is about. If life is only about sales, then I'm out. You are probably wondering where all this is coming from, why I'm sharing it now. I've known for a while, hence the many times I've tried to write this post, that to move forward sometimes you have to have a clean slate. This is me cleaning my slate from the last two years. I regret not sharing more about bloom, but I never wanted it to be tainted by the hardships, my depression and anxiety. That's why I couldn't talk about it. And aside from the depression, entrepreneurship is a difficult road to venture down. And entrepreneurship with your husband or a partner is even more so. It's quite cruel to learn the lessons of life and entrepreneurship all in the same few years.To be honest, it's hard to put into words; clean, sparkling words that live on blogs. Especially, especially on a style blog. I've wanted to share so many times but fear stops me. "Shut up and wear clothes" it says. I've wanted to make changes but fear stopped me. But as I've taken a step back from things these last few weeks I've come to realize something. Maybe it's not about the clothes that bring you here (meh, or maybe it is) but maybe it's about life. Everyone has a story and maybe you just want to hear mine. If that is the case, then thank you for showing up and asking for more. I apologize for having not being able to share this side of my life. I also apologize for thinking that you only want to see the sunshine and not the rain. That is why I take a sillier tone in my posts most days, because it's comfortable and happy and different than my current train of thought. But it feels dishonest to who I am now and it speaks to perhaps who I was. Now don't get me wrong, I'm still funny. That was a joke. Kind of. All that to say, I need to heal. But as much as my life and identity is wrapped up in my blog, I needed that to heal as well. I need you to be on the same page as me, even if we both hate it. There is something else I've realized in my struggle: life is good. I've confused ambition with dissatisfaction. Ambition isn't something that sets out to destroy, it's something that sets out to create. I've confused these things as I'm constantly on the lookout to destroy the bad and preserve the good. But really, I just need to create the good may it be with bloom and the pretty clothes that hang in our windows, may it be with the blog and this post right here, may it be in life and being grateful for the here and the now, even if it involves tears or sad days. I've always been told that happiness is a choice. I've always hated that statement because it puts the control onto me and not my circumstances. But perhaps it is a choice -- a choice to be present and to be thankful. Thank you for being present and for listening. *** (I should note I've since gone to the doctor for my depression. I am feeling a little bit better every day and finding more light in the shadows. )

On being in your thirties (elements of style)

I was asked the other day how old I was and it took a couple beats for me to do the math before answering “I’ll be 34 in August”. It shocked me to think that I am that age, as I certainly don’t feel it at all. There are days I feel 28 and others barely 18. Acknowledging that number kinda hit me like a ton of bricks, and then the inevitable follow up question came… “Do you have kids?” I get asked that question more often than not these days, especially after admitting to people that I’ve been married going on eight years. Hardly a child bride, but young by the standards set by my peers, I was one of the first to walk down the aisle and now one of the last to be pushed into the delivery room. This unnerves people, the bewilderment spreading across their face as they try to comprehend why I don’t have a bundle of joy yet. In the past few weeks I have had a hard time with this and the realization that being in your early thirties is really hard as a woman. It’s the decade of SO much change in our lives- where in one set of friends you can have one person with three kids, some pregnant, a handful childless, others not even engaged yet and some even ending their marriages. This diversity in lifestyles and milestones causes a tough dynamic between women that seems to get swept under the table because it’s simply too uncomfortable. It’s such an emotionally charged decade to navigate, rife with joy, sadness, excitement, jealousy and yearning. And just when you think you have it all figured out, for the 24th time in one month, a friend announces her pregnancy on Facebook. A little snapshot of a sonogram that fills you with both happiness and yet a pang of loss and you begin to think “maybe I’ve got it all wrong”. Instead of reveling in your successes you feel like a failure as you zero in on the one thing missing in your life. And you may not even WANT it yet, but for some reason you feel you SHOULD want it….. paging the shrink. The truth is, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for many months. And it’s not happening for me right now. Medically, we are healthy as horses but the universe has just decided it’s not time yet. A smart universe, I might add, as I have a friggin’ BOOK to write (oddly, due in 9 months- deduce what you will from THAT coincidental gem). My incredibly busy schedule has kept me from feeling I was missing out, and also from starting any fertility treatment, as I felt in my gut that this is just NOT the year. I have a lot to accomplish and I can’t be sick or “distracted” in order to cross this big item off my Bucket List. The smart part of me says “Erin, one thing at a time, you’ll be a better mother if you succeed in accomplishing goals for yourself first.” But then the other part of me feels so left out and that time is ticking for us, I am almost 34 after all, and Andrew is 40 (although I think he’s an emotional age of about 25…) And I’ve never been the girl whose been just DYING to have a baby, my biological clock is more like a Swiss watch than a church steeple- consistent, but whisper quiet. Our neighborhood’s obnoxious teenagers also seem to be serving as a sobering reminder that babies turn into screaming, annoying, angsty creatures….but even so, I know I want to experience motherhood in this lifetime, I very much do. It’s just a question of WHEN. But it’s hard feeling like the odd girl out. The only one without a baby saddled on her hip. A great job, husband and house- yes- but not that one thing that seems to bind women together. It’s only natural for mothers, especially new moms, to spend more time with others going through what they are, but I can’t help but notice how motherhood sometimes draws a line in the sand between those with kids and those without. People you used to meet for a drink or hang out with seem to disappear from your radar. Dinner dates become fewer. Emails less frequent. It’s heartbreaking, yet understandable when it happens. People latch on to those who are experiencing the same things as they are, it’s only natural. I’m sure they feel that talking about the all the minute details of motherhood would bore those of us who aren’t going through it, and NOT talking about it would be like trying to write a novel without using vowels. Impossible. So there is a natural separation. And there is also a specifically tough dynamic between those who get pregnant and those who struggle to. Remember how Miranda felt horrible telling Charlotte she was pregnant because she knew she was struggling and it happened to be (incredibly) easy for her? That happens every day off the TV screen. It’s happened to me. I’ve always thought I was a Carrie, but apparently I’m a Charlotte too. As Andrew said to me yesterday with a big sigh after I came into his office a bit despondent, ” Man, you have a lot of complex emotions going on right now.” Oh boy, do I. Someone pop the pinot grigio. And it may not be a baby for you. It may be a ring, or a house, or a job. There is always something that makes you feel your life in not the one you had hoped or planned for. That there is something missing, incomplete or off. And the thing to remember is that it will ALWAYS be this way no matter what age you are. Instead of looking and the boxed left unchecked on our life “to do” list we should be looking at the ones we HAVE checked off. Everyone’s life plan is different and we miss the joy of what’s happening to us right now if we consistently focus on what’s not. It’s all very zen and “namaste” of me to say, but we do need to be more present. I need to be more present. Yes, I need to be vigilant about my health and have a plan so that I can make sure I can have a baby someday, but focusing on that is making me miss the wonderful things going on right now, of which there are many. I am where I need to be. And I’ll be somewhere else soon enough.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

理论要有深度,学问要有厚度,视野要有宽度,站位要有准度。 思维要有精度,做人要有气度,做事要有法度,说话要有尺度。 处世要有风度,交友要有大度,为人要有热度,胸怀要有广度。 本领要有硬度,能力要有强度,工作要有力度,事业要有高度。 超越要有速度,奋斗要有韧度,赚钱要有适度,消费要有限度。 爱情要有纯度,亲情要有浓度,寿命要有长度,生活要有温度。

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

遗憾/tadaima

十几岁时觉得人生最要不得的是有遗憾。二十几时某处读到遗憾可以是种美而开始有些向往遗憾。三十的开端偶然在电台听到《来不及》的音乐故事时只是直觉遗不遗憾于我其实已经在不知不觉中变得无所谓。 四十时会如何? ok back to writing in science, i have procrastinated enough. just like how i have put off leaving school and entering real life the past 7 years. well, i'm back. to home. to life. tadaima/我回来了. version 2.1. (just realized i wrote "kadaima" in the post 7 years ago. i guess 3 years of jap did pay off in unexpected ways. n thanks to e person who corrected me in the comments 7 years ago although i only saw it 7 years later...)

人各有志

人各有志。人格有优质,也有幼稚。-- 李邪

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

the other woman / At last, something beautiful you can truly own

from purse blog (http://www.purseblog.com/on-screen/mad-men-s07-e11-recap.html) Mad Men does a lot of things well, but one of the show’s greatest skills that’s rarely ever mentioned is its ability and willingness to make its audience genuinely uncomfortable. My personality tends to run a bit too analytical to be emotionally affected by most of the TV shows that I watch, but last night, Mad Men made me feel feelings. In a season that’s been dark and serious almost wall to wall, last night’s episode was perhaps the darkest and most serious installment yet. Now that we’re nearing the end of the season, everyone’s back-room dealings are coming home to roost, some quietly and some in far more spectacular fashion. If nothing else, the next time I feel compelled to stomp out of someplace, I hope The Kinks are playing in the background when I do it. While cleaning up my notes and waiting for the midnight rerun last night, it occurred to me that there’s perhaps a difference between enjoying an hour of TV and judging it as a high-quality piece of work. Often those two things happen simultaneously, but last night’s episode was excellent, despite the fact that few of us likely extracted much glee from anything about it, save perhaps the final scene. It was a downer in practically every sense, and it was also one of the finest episode of the series to date. I’m getting ahead of myself. Last night’s episode started in the thick of the Jaguar creative process, and despite what appeared to be a long-standing gathering of writers around the conference table with Don, little was being accomplished. Don knew that he wanted to paint the car with the brush of sexual desire, and because car-as-woman is not exactly a novel concept, a unique angle was somewhere beyond their grasp. Something about a mistress, perhaps? That night, Ken and Pete were doing their part of the pitch process by entertaining the head of the Jaguar Dealers’ Association, who had one of three votes to pick the agency that would represent the brand in the states. He was a toad of a man – rotund, balding, completely ordinary in personality and intellect. And what do men like that want more than anything? To use their wealth and power to coerce the attention of women whose heads they’d never be able to turn on their own. In this case, our Joanie. The man made his desires clear in no uncertain terms: a night with everyone’s favorite redhead would ensure his favor during the voting process, and otherwise, no dice. As you would assume, Ken and Pete took this news very differently; where Ken saw the end of the road, Pete saw an opportunity to become an even worse person than we all thought humanly possible. And if there’s one thing we all know, it’s that if that opportunity presents itself, Pete will take it. In fact, he made no delay in taking the opportunity in the office the next morning. Pete had clearly been honing his pitch all night in preparation for that moment, and he started off apologetically, sheepishly. He even got up to light Joan’s cigarette for her. When the idea started to settle in, though, and it became clear to both him and us that Joan wasn’t going to kick him in the balls simply for mentioning it, he went for the hard sell. Cleopatra was a queen, don’t you want to be a queen? It was disgusting, but it was also a clear demonstration of why Pete’s so good at his job. Joan shut him down, of course, but she didn’t do it angrily enough to make Pete think he had been beaten. He’s got a potential apartment in the city riding on this account, and he wasn’t going to let it go easily. He decided to set the question to the partners next, and Don was the only person who marched out of the meeting and refused to dignify the entire subject with his attention. The rest of the partners were scandalized, naturally, but after talking it over for the bare minimum amount of time, each of them acquiesced to offering Joan $50,000 to sleep with the dude from Jaguar. Lane, of course, had his own ideas for that money, so he had his own ideas about how Joan should be compensated. Lane shouldn’t be considered positively in all this; even if Joan’s partnership does work out better for her in the long run, his suggestion was entirely motivated by his desire to skim money for himself to pay his taxes. Joan’s lump sum payout would have made that impossible for him to do. In a move that genuinely surprised me, Lane actually summoned up the balls to go into Joan’s office and tell her to demand a 5% voting partnership in the agency, which not only gave Joan some options to consider, but also told her that Pete had presented the “opportunity” to the rest of the partners for discussion. She was embarrassed and angry, of course, but Joan’s a practical woman. She has an infant at home, a husband who’s divorcing her and cutting off her access to his Army pay to support the baby, and limited personal and career prospects as a single mom in 1967. Lane didn’t know any of that, obviously, and Joan repudiated the idea to his face, but his alternative offer ended up being exactly what Joan needed to hear. There were other things going on, of course. While all of those meetings were happening, Peggy was in one of her own with Ken and Harry, extending the Chevalier campaign by adding another commercial on the fly. When Peggy went to announce this victory to Don, though, she had the unfortunate timing of doing it right after Don found out about what Jaguar wanted in exchange for their business. Don insulted her, even threw a few dollar bills at her, and that was all she needed to hear. We next saw Peggy having lunch with Freddy Rumsen, discussing her career thus far and her future prospects. Peggy’s been frustrated by her stalled ascent at SCDP for a while, and sometimes when there’s no room to go up, you have to go out. Freddy told her to take meetings and accept an offer elsewhere, but it halfway seemed like he was advising her to do that so that he could have a stab at her spot at SCDP. Despite that, it still seemed like solid advice. Sometimes solid advice benefits both the giver and the receiver. And then there’s the issue of Megan and Don. Megan had expressed at least mild disgust at a beautiful car being compared to a man’s beautiful mistress (gee, I wonder why), and despite the fact that Don had ordered that campaign abandoned after learning of Joan’s possible fate, not all was well at the Draper residence. Megan had another audition in her future, and before going on it, she and her actress friend from a couple of weeks ago showed up at the office to…gain some confidence. Megan and her friend went about that in different ways. Megan took Don into his office and banged him right there on a chair, and meanwhile, her friend was crawling around on the conference table, ass hanging out of her dress, pretending to be a jaguar for the benefit of the writers. Well, most of the writers. Ginsberg was more interested in what Megan had done – shown up out of the blue to her much older husband’s workplace for a little nookie – than some random girl showing everyone her underwear. That moment lead to Ginsberg’s new pitch to Don the eventual direction of the Jaguar campaign, and because this is Mad Men, it all fit in perfectly with the theme of the episode. “At last, something beautiful that you can really own.” Because women, we’re just too uppity for that anymore. The line wasn’t just about Joan’s indecent proposal, though; it was also about Peggy’s uncertain future at SCDP (Don makes it clear later that he assumes his earlier mentorship means he essentially owns her career) and the larger attitude of men toward women in the mid-1960s. The era wasn’t all flower children and Beatles songs, because with massive social change comes the type or resistance that often borders on disgusting (if not eliminating that border altogether). The people in charge generally want to stay in charge, whether that means buying a night with an agency’s highest-ranking female employee in order to close a business deal or denying someone their two weeks’ notice and a chance to say goodbye when they leave for a new job. I’m getting ahead of myself again, though. Ginsberg’s Jaguar pitch also applied to Megan’s story arc, in addition to being inspired by her. It was inspired by her, and as the episode moved forward, it seemed more and more apt. Megan went to her audition and received a callback to come in again, and when she excitedly announced that to Don, she also mentioned that she’d be spending three months in Boston for rehearsals and previews if she got the part. Not only was he taken aback, but I was surprised too; it hadn’t occurred to me that being a stage actress would take Megan out of New York for months at a time, and I’m betting Don didn’t realize that either. A fight ensued, and I couldn’t help sympathizing with Don. Being without your spouse for that long is hard, and I’d imagine it’s particularly hard when you know that your baser impulses tend to take over when your wife isn’t guarding you 24/7. Going from seeing your wife all day, every day to not seeing her for weeks on end in a relatively short amount of time? I’d say that’s definitely jarring enough to excuse some short-term anger. And the anger was indeed short-term. Megan went on her audition, which seemed to generally consist of a few middle-aged men leering at her and asking her to spin around for their enjoyment. It seems as though Megan’s career may be headed for the casting couch, which wouldn’t have been odd for that era (and which would certainly fit in with the themes of this episode, the Jaguar campaign and the season at large). Wouldn’t it be a classic Mad Men twist if Megan ended up being the first to cheat instead of Don, which everyone has been predicting all season? Still, Megan’s episode ended with her and Don cuddled up on the couch, which is just about as good an ending to anything as a woman can expect in life. Now, though, we have to head to a different casting couch entirely. After taking some time to consider Lane’s suggestion of asking for a partnership instead of merely asking for a chunk of money, Joan approached Pete with the terms of her agreement. Because Pete hadn’t really considered the endgame of being an actual pimp (an occurrence perhaps foreshadowed by Lane dubbing him a “grimy little pimp” before clocking him a few episodes ago), there was some stumbling, but ultimately Pete got his ducks in a row and was able to arrange Joan’s cooperation. Like a cat who got the cream, Pete sauntered into Don’s office that night to tell him that any impediments to the Jaguar deal had been lifted. Don knew what that meant, and after telling Pete off a little, he headed straight to Joan’s house to tell her that she didn’t have to do it, and that the business wasn’t worth it. Joan seemed touched by his sudden appearance at her apartment, as well as a little relieved that he hadn’t been a part of the “unanimous” vote that Pete had cited, but also wasn’t in the mood for a long discussion. Joan went through with it, of course. She had no choice, in a variety of ways. Not only was she in need of the financial security for her baby that she thought the partnership would give her, but securing the Jaguar business would also help grow the firm and guarantee its longterm financial health. Joan’s always been the type of women who might seem frivolous to passers by but who is actually exceedingly practical, and her participation, under the correct circumstances, should never have been doubted. Women had very few things to trade on in that era, particularly in a man’s world like advertising, and Joan has been aware of what the world views as her strengths as long as we’ve known her. That’s also one of her great strengths, although one of the less-celebrated ones: she’s sharp as a tack. And so Joan went to the Jaguar dude’s hotel room, corrected his historical allegory for the situation (because she is better than him, smarter and superior in every way, even if that’s the only way she could ever show him that), refused his help in removing her dress in favor of doing it herself, and slept with him, leaving immediately after her part of the bargain had been fulfilled. As if that scene hadn’t been hard enough to watch, what came after it made it all the more heartbreaking: Don’s visit to Joan’s apartment hadn’t come before her night with the Jaguar exec at all. It came immediately after. He was too late, and Joan went into it thinking that he had signed off on the whole idea. If a moment of TV has ever absolutely crushed me, it was that one. Don did the right thing, but in the face of such a “rolling catastrophe,” as Todd VanDerWerff at AVClub put it, the right thing was completely hollow. Perhaps it would have been even if he had made it in time. The same could be said for how Don and Peggy ended the episode, actually. Peggy took Freddy Rumsen’s advice and not only set up some meetings, but also dyed her hair darker and bought some clothes that befit someone ambitious and worldly. The visual seemed to impress Teddy Chaugh (or however he spells it), in addition to the fact that he’s still looking to get one over on Don Draper, and he offered her the position of Copy Chief and a thousand dollars a year more than what she had asked for (which was considerably more money than that it is now), so long as she accepted on the spot. And she did, although we didn’t know that for a fact until later. Everyone has their price, particularly when backed into a corner, and that’s the moral of this episode as much as anything else is. Everything came to a head at the office shortly thereafter; everyone knew for a few minutes that a call from Jaguar was coming, one way or another, and I was utterly terrified that Matthew Weiner was going to pull the rug out from under us once more. For a awful moment, I was almost sure that SCDP wasn’t going to win Jaguar’s business, and that Joan’s sacrifice had ultimately gained them nothing. Thankfully for my mental state, Jaguar awarded them the account, but “relieved” isn’t quite the right word for what I felt. In the same moment that the partners received the news, Don found out that Joan had been given a partnership, thereby confirming to him that she had done what he fervently hoped she wouldn’t. Don wasn’t in as much as a celebratory mood as everyone else, of course, and neither was Peggy. While the rest of the group popped champagne and congratulated themselves on a job well done, she and Don stepped into his office for the last shocking moment in an episode that was full of them. As I mentioned previously, Peggy met with Teddy Chaugh and decided to give her notice in the aftermath of the Jaguar decision. Notably, she was again wearing a dress more typical of a serious business woman than plucky Peggy Olson, but she started her speech in such a nervous way that I thought at first that Don would be able to bring her back into the fold. Don apparently thought the exact same thing, because at first, he took her resignation to be entirely a bargaining chip to get a raise, so much so that he was impressed with her chutzpah and timing. When it became clear that she wasn’t looking to bargain, he tried to buy her off. When that didn’t work, he became angry, but by the end of their interaction, he seemed to sadly accept that no matter what he did, it was too little, too late. Watching Don kiss Peggy’s hand actually brought tears to my eyes, and I’m tearing up again as I’m writing this. Told y’all that this episode made me feel feelings. After an hour’s worth of anxiety, fear, shame, tension and loss, things did end on a small, upbeat note. Don had denied Peggy her two weeks’ notice during the angry phase of their conversation, so while everyone was popping champagne in the conference room, she gathered up her thermos, coffee mug, portfolio and coat and left the office, perhaps for good. Joan was the only one who noticed her leaving, but she didn’t follow her out to see what was going on. So Peggy got on the elevator alone, smiling, with The Kinks blaring in the background. It was a moment as exhilarating as the rest of the episode had been brutal, which is probably a dichotomy of emotions that a lot of women felt in 1967, in the workplace and elsewhere. Stray Observations: •Early in the episode, Joan asks Pete how he would feel if the same thing that had been asked of her were to be asked of Trudy. We already know the answer to that question, because Pete already tried to whore Trudy out to her ex-boyfriend to get a story of his published in a magazine back when Ken Cosgrove got published in The Atlantic, and then he got mad at her when she wouldn’t do it. That wasn’t even for the financial wellbeing of the business, it was just to stroke his own fragile ego. So, safe to say that Pete is indeed comfortable with whoring anyone out at any given time, including his own wife. If the Jaguar exec had asked to sleep with him instead, I’d guess that Pete would have gotten down on all fours, ass-up, in the middle of the restaurant. He’s just that guy. •Once the idea was floated of the exec spending the night with Joan at the top of the episode, I think part of us all knew it was probably inevitable, like a train speeding at a car that’s stalled on the tracks. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’ll stop, maybe there’s some way that the breaks can be pulled in time, maybe the laws of physics can suspend themselves for just long enough to change everyone’s fate. In reality, you know that nothing can come of the situation but destruction. •Roger wouldn’t stop the group from encouraging Joan to spend a night with the Jaguar exec, but he wasn’t willing to fund the endeavor himself. A real gentleman, that one. •I don’t blame Joan for going through with it for one second. I don’t think she really had a choice, even though I doubt that there would have been an overt retaliation for her resistance. When the fridge is on the fritz and your husband’s divorcing you and your alcoholic mother won’t shut up and you have a baby’s entire future to think of, not to mention your own, sometimes the options that present themselves, however unpalatable and heartbreaking, are the ones you choose from. Ultimately, it seems as though this situation made Joan feel less filthy than taking Roger’s hush money for 18 years, and if that’s her choice, then it certainly doesn’t make me lose even an ounce of respect for her. Only for the men around her that made it a feasible option. •Most people would probably like to say that they wouldn’t do what Joan did in the same situation, but I think that for most people, that denial probably self-flattery at best and delusion at worst. I think I’d do it, if I’m being honest with myself. A lot of people do far more awful things for far worse reasons. And for far less money, too. Joan’s decision was exceedingly practical, maybe even responsible, if soul-crushing. •I’ve used the word “brutal” previously in this recap, but it strikes me as the most accurate term for a lot of what went on, both narratively and thematically. Mostly, it seems to be the only word to describe some of the harsh truths that the episode expressed about how men view women, all the way from Joan to Megan to Peggy. In 1967, no matter what they did or how smart and hardworking they were, they were all objects before they were people. Unfortunately, that’s too often true in 2012 as well. •When everyone was celebrating in Roger’s office, Joan only hugged Lane. I hope that his selfish advice to her actually works out in her favor. I think it would break my heart too much if it didn’t. •It was a brave episode, all around. You have to have a masterful group of writers to make great TV that an audience can recognize as great while simultaneously hating everything that happened therein. I’m glad they didn’t take the easy way out and have Joan abandon the endeavor and stomp out of the hotel room, and that they didn’t feel the need to tie everything up with a feel-good ending for everyone. It’s much more devastating this way, and sometimes that’s what it should be. •I mentioned it before, but I really loved that Joan corrected the Jaguar exec’s historical references during their encounter and swatted his hand away in favor of removing her own dress. Joan may have agreed to do something that was beneath her, but she did it on her own terms. As much as she could, anyway. •I honestly never expected Peggy to pull the trigger and leave SCDP. I, like Don, underestimated her bravery. •This episode did a lot to bolster the idea that Mad Men is really all about the women, but it would be wrong to gloss over how perfectly Jon Hamm played the entire episode. He’s a tremendous actor, a man simultaneously so movie-star handsome and capable of such emotional depth on screen that it almost defies comprehension. How does he exist? •I could keep talking about this episode for a couple thousand more words, probably, but I have to stop somewhere. It may have been the finest hour of television I’ve ever seen. I didn’t take any notes at all for the last 30 minutes because I was literally incapable of doing anything but staring at the television in rapt silence. •At just over 3850 words, this recap is nearly 14 pages long when double-spaced in a Apple Pages. It is the longest recap I’ve ever written, and longer than all but one paper that I wrote during college, even though both my major and minor (journalism and comparative lit) were writing-based. Someone needs to take my computer away from me and hide it before I make it longer. I hope you’re all having a good Memorial Day.

Sunday, May 06, 2012

纳兰词

采桑子    彤霞久绝飞琼宇,人在谁边。人在谁边,今夜玉清眠不眠。    香销被冷残灯灭,静数秋天。静数秋天,又误心期到下弦。    又    谁翻乐府凄凉曲?风也萧萧,雨也萧萧,瘦尽灯花又一宵。    不知何事萦怀抱,醒也无聊,醉也无聊,梦也何曾到谢桥。    又    非关癖爱轻模样,冷处偏佳。别有根芽,不是人间富贵花。    谢娘别后谁能惜,飘泊天涯。寒月悲笳,万里西风瀚海沙。    又    桃花羞作无情死,感激东风。吹落娇红,飞入窗间伴懊侬。    谁怜辛苦东阳瘦,也为春慵。不及芙蓉,一片幽情冷处浓。    又    拨灯书尽红笺也,依旧无聊。玉漏迢迢,梦里寒花隔玉箫。    几竿修竹三更雨,叶叶萧萧。分付秋潮,莫误双鱼到谢桥。    又    谢家庭院残更立,燕宿雕粱。月度银墙,不辨花丛那辨香?    此情已自成追忆,零落鸳鸯。雨歇微凉,十一年前梦一场。    又    而今才道当时错,心绪凄迷。红泪偷垂,满眼春风百事非。    情知此后来无计,强说欢期。一别如斯,落尽梨花月又西。    又    明月多情应笑我,笑我如今,孤负春心,独自闲行独自吟。    近来怕说当时事,结遍兰襟。月浅灯深,梦里云归何处寻? 浣溪沙    伏雨朝寒愁不胜,那能还傍杏花行?去年高摘斗轻盈。 漫惹炉烟双袖紫,空将酒晕一衫青。人间何处问多情。    又    谁念西风独自凉,萧萧黄叶闭疏窗。沉思往事立残阳(沉思往事立斜阳)。    被酒莫惊春睡重,赌书消得泼茶香。当时只道是寻常。    又 (西郊冯氏园看海棠,因忆香严词有感)    谁道飘零不可怜,旧游时节好花天,断肠人去自经年。    一片晕红才著雨,晚风吹掠鬓云偏。倩魂销尽夕阳前。    又    欲问江梅瘦几分,只看愁损翠罗裙,麝篝衾冷惜余熏。    可奈暮寒长倚竹,便教春好不开门。枇杷花下校书人。    又    一半残阳下小楼,朱帘斜控软金钩。倚栏无绪不能愁。    有个盈盈骑马过,薄妆浅黛亦风流。见人羞涩却回头。    又    残雪凝辉冷画屏。落梅横笛已三更,更无人处月胧明。    我是人间惆怅客,知君何事泪纵横。断肠声里忆平生。    又    微晕娇花湿欲流,簟纹灯影一生愁,梦回疑在远山楼。    残月暗窥金屈戍,软风徐荡玉帘钩。待听邻女唤梳头。    又 (北古口)    杨柳千条送马蹄,北来征雁旧南飞,客中谁与换春衣?    终古闲情归落照,一春幽梦逐游丝。信回刚道别多时。    又    身向云山那畔行,北风吹断马嘶声,深秋远塞若为情。    一抹晚烟荒戍垒,半竿斜日旧关城。古今幽恨几时平。    又    十八年来坠世间,吹花嚼蕊弄冰弦,多情情寄阿谁边?    紫玉钗斜灯影背,红绵粉冷枕函边。相看好处却无言。    又 (寄严荪友)    藕荡桥边理约筒,苎萝西去五湖东,笔床茶灶太从容。    况有短墙银杏雨,更兼高阁玉兰风。画眉闲了画芙蓉。    又    欲寄愁心朔雁边,西风浊酒惨离筵。黄花时节碧云天。    古戍烽烟迷斥堠,夕阳村落解鞍鞯。不知征战几人还。    又    败叶填溪水已冰,夕阳犹照短长亭。行来废寺失题名。    驻马客临碑上字,斗鸡人拨佛前灯。劳劳尘世几时醒?

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Honore de Balzac

A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over. Solitude is fine, but you need someone to tell you that solitude is fine. Suicide, moreover, was at the time in vogue in Paris: what more suitable key to the mystery of life for a skeptical society? What is a child, monsieur, but the image of two beings, the fruit of two sentiments spontaneously blended? Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/h/honore_de_balzac_5.html#ZiozCHl1P0T34Q4H.99