fly or die
 
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Chicken Pox Survivor
It was to be my day. A day of freedom. Yeah. I survived.

Be thankful for small mercies in life. That's what mom used to say. And so it is with that spirit that I got into the car that morning, on Poxing Day 14 and drove to work.

I was beaming - partly hoping that my megawatt smile will detract from the pox marks. And partly because I was glad to end my hermit-dom. But the real thrill was the dozen or more pieces of paper I clutched under my armpits. I could feel their power - their excitement and I was dying to share them.

"Oi Tomas!" I hollered.
"Stay away, pox girl!" he quipped, "My God! Look at you!" He shrieked in horror.
"Jerk," I said, "See this!" I waved my fist at him.
Tomas walks over to my cube and ruffles my hair. I hate that condescending gesture but today, it felt alright. Almost good. Almost. "Prick!" I muttered and shoved his hand away. "How have things been?" I asked
"Shitty. As always."
"Of course. Sunshine hasn't been around," I beamed.
He did a puking gesture.
Then Big Billy walks pass. "Hey, hey, hey," he says.
"Hi Billy!"
"Good to have you back," he then pauses, "when you're done with all this," he circles the air with his index fingers, "could you step into my office for a mo?"
"Sure," I said. My heart raced a little. Having a chat with your boss first thing in the morning is not a good sign. So, I said a few quick hello-s and skipped into the room marked CREATIVE DIRECTOR.
"What's up?" I said casually and slouched on the sofa.
How bad did I pox? What did I eat? What are the Chinese customs on this things? Urgh, Billy, you're horrid at small talk, could we just get on with it? I thought.
"We're restructuring a bit," he finally huffed, "moving people and accounts around. You ..." he does his index finger cirling again, "with Jenna ..." he circles towards the direction of Jenna's cube.
"Jenna?" my eyes widened. Jenna is this freshie art director.
"She may not be as experienced as Heng but she's pretty strong conceptually."
"Hmm... I'm not sure. I've never worked with her." I paused, "Have you spoken to Heng?"
He nodded.
"And he is fine with that?"
He nodded.
Ouch. Strangely it hurt like hell. Like being dumped. Though I know it isn't.
"What about the accounts?" I asked.
He pulled out an A4 sheet and showed me the new line up. I quickly scanned it for the name of my dream account. I let out a little silent "yay!" It is still under me.
"But Heng and I worked on [dream account]. I know he has some amazing ideas for it," I said.
Billy looked pained, as if I had undermined his brilliance.
"I know," he said. Inhaled really deeply on his fag and said, "But he screwed it up."
I gave a 'I-donno-what-u-mean' look.
"Servicing and client are uncomfortable having him on it."
"Serious?" I balked.
"This is too important for us to screw it up some more."
"Still Jenna is too young, too new for this level of work," I argued.
"She's a quick learner."
I felt my volume crank up, "Billy, are you asking me to consider this new partner or are you telling me?"
"Next month," he says.
I stood and left his room.

My day wasn't panning out the way I had wanted. The power of those ideas withered. The thought of not working with Heng was devastating. We had so many dreams. Plans. Hopes of walking up the stage on Kancil night.

"Heng," I gathered myself and walked over to his table, "What is this I've heard from Billy?"
"They want me out."
"Why?"
"I mess things up. Susan's big fuss."
"Can't you talk to Billy and Susan?"
"What for?"
"We've worked really hard for this. Can't just give it up like this."
He sighed. Shook his head. He gave me a last look and continued mousing.

"Tomas," I whimpered, "is it time for your cigi yet?"
"C'mon," he said.
The dark, musty emergency stair made a good hideout.
I sat on the steps. Quiet. Sullen.
Tomas began to rant about management.
"I can't believe this is happening," I said, "Why isn't Heng fighting it?"
"What's the point? You work so hard, fight like crazy, you still get the same salary as the bugger who's a slacker."
"My god," I said, "I can't believe you are saying this!"
"It's true."
"So I should just give up?"
"No, do what you think you should. But let Heng do what he thinks he should."
"It's so unfair."
"Pox girl. You can't save the world."
"I don't want to save the world. I just want to work with Heng. We work well. No. We're a great team. Yeah, I know. He's like half-stoned all the time, he can't make complete sentences, has no interest in anything else by work. I know all that. But that's just why he is so good. He's intense, dedicated. Not like some flaky freshie AD who gets handed an account of a lifetime on Heng's expense."
"Give her a chance. She might be good."
"Tomas!" I stared at him, "Have you been sleeping with her?"
He laughed.

Bad sign.
And not my day.

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 6:41:00 pm //
     
     
    Wednesday, April 14, 2004
    Prison without Astro
    Poxing Day 10.
    This is how prison feels like. Solitary confinement. Bad food. No visitors. You begin talking to yourself. There is also this strange urge to want to etch the walls with stick marks in groups of 5s.

    What can a gal do with herself all day? This one thinks up ideas.

    Seriously, you've heard of how people finish degrees in prison, read an entire library, write books, discover nuclear fusion (no, I made the last one up but you get the point). I am beginning to understand why.

    No distractions. Oh sure, you get the occasional rat which fights you for your slop. Or the Botak Chin look-a-like who'll punch your lights out (or worse) unless you give him your fag. But generally, in prison, you get loads of uninterrupted time. Without people, mobile phones and movies, there is amazing clarity.

    The solitude. The empty to-do list. The days of getting dressed to go nowhere.

    So like a witch, I rub my hands with glee over my pot of brewing ideas.
    1) A neat campaign for my new client. Ooh, Heng and Susan will love it.
    2) A pile of initiatives ('scam ads' to those who know what I'm talking about) to show to Big Billy. (Billy, you'll forever thank the day you hired me after this.)
    3) 2 names for my future children so that I won't run into similar problems as James.

    If nothing else, this is one reason why everybody should get chicken pox once in their lifetime. When you spend less time looking at yourself, you see a whole lot more.

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 1:51:00 am //
     
     
    Thursday, April 08, 2004
    Two men and an ugly woman
    Poxing Day 5.
    I call the office to check whether we really screwed up the pitch.
    "Heng, any news?"
    "Nah, nothing yet. They have internal review next Monday, after that, they let us know."
    "So, no news is good news, I guess," I laughed, "Er ... so how are things?" I asked, attempting small talk.
    "Fine," he answered. "Bye."
    That's Heng for you - the Neanderthal. He grunts, shrugs and shouts. He'll rather be skinned and dipped in boiling oil than chat.

    A little later, Matt calls. Surprisingly, I feel happy. Perhaps because it has been so depressing being at home all alone.
    "How is it?"
    "Horrid," I muttered.
    "Hey, can I drop by this evening?"
    "No."
    "Come on, I'm sure you can use some company."
    "No."
    "I've had chicken pox before."
    "So?"
    "I want to see you."
    "No."
    "It can't be that bad?"
    "Yes."
    Monosyllabic replies? Gosh, has the virus evolved me into Heng?
    "Matt - must I spell it out? I don't want you to see me like this."
    Don't you get it? I look like a mutant from some radioactive pool. I have stuff oozing out of my face. I'm potty, scabby. I scratch like a mad gorilla. If I die from chicken pox, I don't want you to remember me like this.
    "Do you have any food?"
    You think I'm gonna fall for that old bait and switch? Give me some credit.
    "Yes, Mila bought me tons."
    "Do you need ... videos? Books? Magazines? I could get you the latest copy of ... Cleo? The one with the 50 Most Eligible Bachelors?"
    "Why? You one of them, meh?"
    He laughs, "Maybe?"
    I rolled my eyes.
    "Stop rolling your eyes."
    "Oh god, did you web cam my place or what?"
    "I'll drop by anyway."
    "Don't you dare," I threatened. "I'll jump off the balcony."
    He laughs. "Wonderful! Then the headlines tomorrow, 'Woman with chicken pox dies from fatal fall.' Won't be able to hide that pretty face of yours then."

    Can life get any better? The guy who wants to date me wants to see me dead.

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 9:54:00 pm //
     
     
    Tuesday, April 06, 2004
    The Black Sauce Theory
    Poxing Day 3.
    Mila calls. I am surprised.
    "Not scared I'll infect you through the phone?" I hissed, the image of her running away from my apartment door still playing in my mind.
    "Puh-lease lah," she said, "you think I'm a moron?"
    I chuckled, "You r-e-a-l-l-y wanna know what I think?" It was just too good an opening. She ignores me, as usual.
    "How? Is it bad?"
    I soften a little. Maybe she's not the airhead I made her out to be. Wait. Yes, she's one but one with a heart, I concluded.
    "Yeah," I stopped short of whining, "Two fresh ones today."
    "The groceries? Still got?"
    "Enough till end of next month."
    "Make sure you don't take any tou-yew (black sauce)," she warned.
    "I just don't get it," I started, my index finger circling one of watery bumps on my arm, "How does tou-yew fight all that acid in your tummy, swim through your blood stream and hah! lodge itself in all the right poxes? It's like the Revenge of the Black Bean or some thing?"
    "Well, don't tell me I didn't warn you. My cousin - try to be hero lah - didn't care. Now, she's a ladybird!"
    "Really?" I raised my eyebrow, trying to superimposed her cousin's face on a ladybird bug's back. "Can he fly yet?"

    Nine out of 10 people will advise me to adhere to the No Black Sauce theory. The one exception being doctors. But do we believe them? Nah. After all, over 1 billion Chinese people can't be wrong, right? And then there's the thing about about chicken and prawns - I've been warned by Mama that they are tuk (toxic?) Beef and mutton are too yeat (heaty?) Urgh ... what is left for a carnivorous girl to chew on?

    Anyhoo, that's how superstitions are borned.

    Fear.

    Just in case, it's true.
    Just in case, I'm the unlucky one to prove it right.
    Just in case, I mutate from bubble wrap to ladybird.
    Just in case.

    P.S. I don't want to be an ugly hero. Any thing else that I'm supposed to abstain from?

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 6:53:00 pm //
     
     
    Saturday, April 03, 2004
    Poxing day
    The evening after the pitch, I discovered a little watery bump on my belly. I groaned "oh no," and dreaded the worst. I went to the doctor and she confirmed it, "Wah! So old only get chicken pox ah?"

    Thanks a lot.

    Gives you the bad news and rubs it in too. She also gives me 2 weeks MC. Yipee! Alas, a silver lining in all this 'suffering'.
    "Drink lots of water, take good rest."
    "Yes, mom," I said as I exit.

    The thing about chicken pox is that it makes me ugly. I won't die from it. But I could die looking at the mirror. I've heard of my friends who hid all the mirrors in their home when they had chicken pox. Now I understand.

    How do you face the problem when the problem is your face?
    By the next morning, I found the answer. I no longer had a face. I had bubble wrap.

    I called Mila to help pick up a few groceries for me. Mila is another old fogey who hasn't had the pox.
    "What if I get it? Got scar, how?" she whined.
    "Just leave it at the door. You don't have to come in."
    "You sure it's safe?"
    "Are you going to help me or are you going to let me starve to death?"
    "Okaylah. I'll bring them over today after work."
    Sure enough, she does. I peer out of my peephole. She leaves a few big bags from Tesco, enough to feed the entire Lord of the Ring film crew in New Zealand. Rings the bell and scurries back to the lift. Guess I won't be seeing her for a while.

    Did I mention she signed "Friends Forever" in my college yearbook?

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 10:58:00 am //
     
     
    Friday, April 02, 2004
    A pitch's a b*tch
    Okay. Let's pick up where I left off.

    The pitch. And Heng walking out on me.

    The following Monday Heng walks in. He still has the "I'll kill yer" look in his eyes. I inch up to him, cautiously.
    "Heng, you ok?"
    He shrugs and checks his emails.

    Later that day, Big Billy calls him to his room. By the time they finish - the smoke was enough to set off the fire alarm. But Heng seemed calmer. A little smug even.

    He sits with me and we continue working on the pitch. He doesn't mention a thing - doesn't apologise - as if nothing happened. And I don't ask. For fear that he may walk out again.

    The campaign strategy remains - so the tweaking is minimal. I may actually go home early.

    I am happy that Heng is back yet I am baffled.

    How a temper tantrum works wonders.

    I need to learn that too. But can I ever pull it off?

    On Wednesday, we presented our work. The CEO was in the meeting - a poker faced Malay gentlemen. Even if I stripped, I doubt that I would have elicited a flicker of excitement on his face.

    I couldn't quite present it as fluidly as I did the first round - my confidence was badly beaten. Heng said little. Susan tried her best. But on the whole, I felt that the energy and team chemistry was destroyed. We were clearly not humming.

    The Brand Manager looked disappointed. I guess he must have sold us highly to his boss - only to be let down. I felt bad about that too. Because I would have liked working with him - a risk-taking type of Brand Manager, reasonable in his demands and all-round nice guy. And I would have liked working on this brand - god! How handsome it would have been in my portfolio. I mean the Brand, not the manager.

    At the end of the meeting, I was feeling drained, tired and my body was beginning to ache. Stress, I thought. I placed my palm on my forehead - it was heating up.

    The Brand Manager, whom I shall name Mr Hoe, caught up with us at the lift lobby.
    "What happened, guys?" he asked.
    Susan babbled some excuses - stress, overnighter, overloaded.
    He threw a glance at Heng and I, standing sheepishly and praying for the lift door to open sooner so that it can gulp us down.
    "The work is still great. But you guys will have to get your act together. Anyway, I'll see what I can do," he said and disappeared back into his office.

    This client is a dream.

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 1:16:00 am //
     
     
    Thursday, April 01, 2004
    I will be doing some back tracking to fill in the missing weeks. So watch this space.

  • Pencil chewed at
  • 11:58:00 pm //
     
    template © elementopia 2003
     
     
     
    about me
    A neurotic, nail biting, slightly schizo, caffeine crazed copywriter who doesn't know better than waste her life in the pursuit of the golden pencil a.k.a The One Show. To console me, click here.

    Or simply Blogroll Me!

    Today's mood is The current mood of musing@go.com at www.imood.com
    Female. Lives in Malaysia/Selangor/Petaling Jaya, speaks English. Eye color is brown. I am what my mother calls unique. I am also optimistic. My interests are diving/blogging.
    This is my blogchalk:
    Malaysia, Selangor, Petaling Jaya, English, Female, diving, blogging.
     
    archives
    December 2003
    January 2004
    February 2004
    March 2004
    April 2004
    May 2004
    June 2004
    July 2004
    August 2004
    September 2004
    October 2004
    November 2004
    December 2004
    January 2005
    February 2005
     
    people mentioned in this blog
    I realised that it is increasingly difficult for you to identify who's who in this blog. So here's a rundown. Will try to categorise entries to names but that will take some time, cause I still haven't figured out how to do it.
    In the agency
    Big Billy - Boss, my Creative Director
    Donna - beautiful bimbo Account Executive
    Heng - the art director I used to work with
    Hoe, Mr - my favourite client
    Jenna - the art director I'm working with now
    Susan - street smart Group Account Director
    Tina - my Traffic Manager
    Tomas - fellow copywriter, confidante

    Beyond the agency
    June & Mila - my best gal pals
    Matt - the guy dating me
    Minnie & Moe - my guppies
    Trish - the friend who set me up with Matt

    *all names have been changed.
     
    my zany portfolio
    I'll paste work here periodically. But none of them will be real client work - just my own initiates and doodling.
  • Perodua Kancil
  •  
    awesome ad of the week
    G-Day Coffee TVC. Scene opens on guy trying to slide down a dry water slide. He gets stuck. He finally manages to squeak all the way down. TVC ends with him savouring a mug of G-Day coffee and the tag "Save water for G-Day coffee". A bit unreal but I love the humour. And the talent, the Each Other actor (I forgot his name), is super. He makes it work.
     
    wished i wrote that
    We tell our prospects. When you reach for the stars you may not quite get one, but you won't come up with a handful of mud either. - Leo Burnett
     
    resources
    « The One Show »
    « Archive Online »
    « Free TVCs »
    « Adage »
    « Adoimagazine »
    « Books at how&why »
     
    increase your ad quotient
    Read about Leo Burnett, one of advertising's greats. Click here for profile by Time.

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