I love what I do for a living...especially when I get to hear my boss say things like this...and I quote:
“Salina you have 2 faces: The “this is how its going to be get it done – listen to me now” face and the “I have no idea what you’re talking about – I’m so confused” face. Bring the first one tomorrow and be excited.”
<3 it.
January 29, 2009
January 28, 2009
January 27, 2009
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writing 1.26.09
sent via email to my interactive producer:
if my envy had a heart beat of its own it beat so loud we'd all be deaf.
le sigh...
'nuff said
if my envy had a heart beat of its own it beat so loud we'd all be deaf.
le sigh...
'nuff said
January 22, 2009
January 21, 2009
writing 1.21.09
On our recent run to the mother ship I learned, thanks to my art director and our friend Jeremy, that I sound like this:
Omg.
I’m totally donesies.
Poop.
Rar.
omFg
for realsies?
Ummmm
rars
Find the human truth
China
You’re Mom.
Russia.
Love you…mean it.
Rar.
Duh.
Rar.
OMG. OMG. OMG.
Fug.
Yes please.
NO way
Rar
Rar.rar.rar.rar.rar.rar.rar
They referred to this style of speaking as “Salinizations”…you know things you’d only hear out of my mouth over and over. Apparently, I didn’t grow out of the habit of repeating myself like most 10 year olds. But, I like to look at it this way:
I have a branded way of speaking. Yes. Yes, that sounds good. And by the way kids, you’re welcome too. I mean, who else was going to teach you that the word “rar” could really fill in for all eight parts of speech? Certainly not School House Rock – I’ll tell ya that much.
But in all honestly if you someone using the same words in every other sentence, be a homie and let ‘em know. Aight, rars?
Omg.
I’m totally donesies.
Poop.
Rar.
omFg
for realsies?
Ummmm
rars
Find the human truth
China
You’re Mom.
Russia.
Love you…mean it.
Rar.
Duh.
Rar.
OMG. OMG. OMG.
Fug.
Yes please.
NO way
Rar
Rar.rar.rar.rar.rar.rar.rar
They referred to this style of speaking as “Salinizations”…you know things you’d only hear out of my mouth over and over. Apparently, I didn’t grow out of the habit of repeating myself like most 10 year olds. But, I like to look at it this way:
I have a branded way of speaking. Yes. Yes, that sounds good. And by the way kids, you’re welcome too. I mean, who else was going to teach you that the word “rar” could really fill in for all eight parts of speech? Certainly not School House Rock – I’ll tell ya that much.
But in all honestly if you someone using the same words in every other sentence, be a homie and let ‘em know. Aight, rars?
January 20, 2009
January 19, 2009
January 16, 2009
January 15, 2009
January 14, 2009
January 13, 2009
writing 1.13.09
Wouldn’t it be better if today was FRIDAY the 13th instead of Tuesday the 13th? I always ask myself that question when its NOT Friday the 13th. Freaky Friday, how I love thee and your "bad wrap"-I wish you'd come around more often. But, Freaky Friday, what I especially love about you is the fact that Hollywood has used your “bad luck” in countless movie plots – the worst of which involved a Miss Lohan. Whenever I see movies like this advertised I wonder, what in the world would it be like to be a writer in Hollywood that writes this crap. Do the writers just laugh their way to the bank as they are selling out? Or do they cry themselves to sleep at night? Or, are they like many writers (myself included) that are just happy to have jobs right now and are neither laughing or crying at their situation?
Oh Tuesday the 13th, you’ve got my head spinning in circles like a Freaky Friday sans a mind swap with my Mom. But, now that I've had that mind warp, I must get back to concepting like a good little copywriter.
Oh Tuesday the 13th, you’ve got my head spinning in circles like a Freaky Friday sans a mind swap with my Mom. But, now that I've had that mind warp, I must get back to concepting like a good little copywriter.
writing 1.12.09
Left my camera at home and I definitely have a case of the Mondays. But at least I’m sitting in the editing studio. Today I’m directing talent, sipping on a Boylan’s (yes please to pop with real sugar), doodling melancholy-faced girls on scripts and shivering. I swear they keep the studio as warm as the frigid temps in NYC. And while we’re talking about weather, umm, winter…what is up with the severe lack of pretty snowflakes falling from the sky? I beg of you, shower us with that pretty glitter so I can escape the city and go skiing. K? K. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I must get back to bossing around the nice man in the soundproof booth.
January 9, 2009
January 8, 2009
writing 1.8.09
After a full day of sharing ideas with Bernadette and concepting and editing spots sushi-ing with my bff, Einav, I find myself back at home with the sound of my cuckoo clock and the tick of the keyboard and an increasing desire to make this post one long, obnoxious run on sentence - if I was to write the way I spoke I would only write in pregnant pauses and run on sentences.................................and perhaps if I ever write a book that's what it will be called "Pregnant Pauses and Run on Sentences" by Salina Cole you'll find it on your bookshelves in a few years it'll be full of: random musings, doodles, tic-tac-toe games, MASH games, pictures of my brother, pictures of Brooklyn in the fall, maps of worlds I made up, movie stubs, ticket stubs, saved text messages that have been transcribed, lipstick marks, embroidered snarky saying, empty speech bubbles, wax dinosaurs, a long essay on why one should NEVER visit natural history museums, especially if in Chicago, a long winded recording of me singing while jumping on a trampoline, a tap dancing routine in written format (of course), the word 'Blerg' in 72 pt black Helvetica type on a white page, a detailed recording of what my friend Schoprah eats in one day, a drawing of my favorite pickles from Ohio.....and of course campaigns I worked on, scripts, and stories I've written to the people that matter most in my wee corner of the world and at the front of it all you'll find a dedication page that reads: for my Mom and she'd find it super sweet that I dedicated it to her but I'm guessing she'd never fully know why, but.... I'd dedicate it to her because she was the one who taught me to use my words instead of my fists and while I never used either my words or my fists in my youth (you see I was quite a shy girl then), I have learned that words can cut with a greater precision than a fist and so they too must be used wisely and treated with respect or they will turn against you and they'll force your hand into letting them run wild across a page in one long run on sentence and we both know that's not good. At all.
Unless it is.
Unless it is.
January 7, 2009
January 6, 2009
writingg 1.6.09
I spent the better part of the day in a meeting so I couldn't take any photos.
Le sigh.
But, all during the meeting the following (run-on) sentence kept running circles in my brain:
OMG, yes...I agree...god this creative director is crazy good...who wears those type of jeans...can this project please, puhlease(!) get approved? Plllllllleeeeeeeeeeze?
Fingers crossed that the good stuff moves forward and doesn't die an abysmal prematurely young advertising death.
Le sigh.
Le sigh.
But, all during the meeting the following (run-on) sentence kept running circles in my brain:
OMG, yes...I agree...god this creative director is crazy good...who wears those type of jeans...can this project please, puhlease(!) get approved? Plllllllleeeeeeeeeeze?
Fingers crossed that the good stuff moves forward and doesn't die an abysmal prematurely young advertising death.
Le sigh.
January 5, 2009
January 4, 2009
January 2, 2009
Writing 1.2.09
Dear 2009,
I’d like to say I’m glad you’re here.
Me and my Ohio friends welcomed you in right, no? There was drinking, there was reminiscing about your old friend 2008 and now we’re on a journey of getting to know each other…intimately.
But (yes there is a but and we’re only 2 days in here, folks) I’m sorry to report that after a full week and a half of not gracing the keyboard with my presence my brain is a bit rusty. Now baby 2009 (my favorite version of 2009...I hate it when they make the year look all old like Father time), if this is how you’re gonna treat me when it comes to writing we’re gonna have to have a serious discussion. So, it pains me to report this, but you’re on probation. Yes, probation...until I get my writing mojo back.
Now, I know what you’re thinking baby 2009, you’re thinking that this keyboard funk should be blamed on 2008. Well maybe it could be blamed on the last few days of 2008 where I lounged and ate way too many Christmas cookies while watching bad holiday movies, but 2008 was too good to my writing for me to place the blame of this new funk.
So, I am left with nobody but you, baby 2009, to blame. After just a few hours of concepting my brain is wheezing like a fat man on a treadmill and that ain’t good. So consider this a written over-the-glasses look and a warning that if you don’t shape up, we’s gonna have serious fighin words. Kapeesh?
I’d like to say I’m glad you’re here.
Me and my Ohio friends welcomed you in right, no? There was drinking, there was reminiscing about your old friend 2008 and now we’re on a journey of getting to know each other…intimately.
But (yes there is a but and we’re only 2 days in here, folks) I’m sorry to report that after a full week and a half of not gracing the keyboard with my presence my brain is a bit rusty. Now baby 2009 (my favorite version of 2009...I hate it when they make the year look all old like Father time), if this is how you’re gonna treat me when it comes to writing we’re gonna have to have a serious discussion. So, it pains me to report this, but you’re on probation. Yes, probation...until I get my writing mojo back.
Now, I know what you’re thinking baby 2009, you’re thinking that this keyboard funk should be blamed on 2008. Well maybe it could be blamed on the last few days of 2008 where I lounged and ate way too many Christmas cookies while watching bad holiday movies, but 2008 was too good to my writing for me to place the blame of this new funk.
So, I am left with nobody but you, baby 2009, to blame. After just a few hours of concepting my brain is wheezing like a fat man on a treadmill and that ain’t good. So consider this a written over-the-glasses look and a warning that if you don’t shape up, we’s gonna have serious fighin words. Kapeesh?
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