Say My Name

Today I was thinking about my name. Melanie. I feel like it’s the wrong name for me. Melanie in my head is a blond cheerleader, perky and bubbly and chatty. And I am not those things. I have brownish-red hair, and I’m quiet and kind of cynical. I don’t know what name goes with that, though. Barb? That’s the name of my double.

I do have a double named Barb. She lives around here, and I’ve had several people tell me I look just like Barb, and several other people approach me and actually say, “hi, Barb.” I’m never sure what to do when that happens. Usually I just ignore them and hope they realize I’m NOT Barb. Maybe next time I’ll just say, “oh, hi!” in a bubbly, chatty way and see where it takes us. Maybe now that I have bangs we won’t be confused with each other anymore. I’m very curious to SEE Barb now, though. I want to know if we really do look alike, and if she’s attractive at all. What if she’s really ugly? Or old?

Anyway, the fun thing about my name is the way it can be mutated. I’m Mel to my family and friends . . . I wouldn’t know what to do if any of my family members actually referred to me as Melanie. My mom calls me Melly sometimes, which I think is cute. If I ever move and re-invent myself, I think I’ll be Melle. A little girl I once knew called me Mellos. And I’ve been Melanie-o and Melgel (after the Melaleuca product), and even Melmac, after ALF’s home planet (this was a long time ago).

My friend Sharla and I used to try to sign our emails with words that use our nicknames. Melancholy. Mellifluous. Melba Toast. Melanoma.

So, this post has no conclusion. I just felt like writing about this. And I don’t hate my name, although oftentimes I’m mistakenly called Melissa. Or occasionally Heather. Or Stephanie.

For the first eight months after my conception, my parents planned to call me Jerilyn.

Honestly, I think it all worked out for the best.

A Smokin' Hot Post about Sex!

OK, not really. But it probably got your attention. Lately I’ve been learning a lot about writing headlines. Did you know that five times as many people read the headline as read the rest of the copy? I apologize if the rest of the post doesn’t fit the headline. Although it is kind of about sex, so keep reading!

A few weeks ago, I had a fascinating conversation with a friend about open relationships. In an open relationship, it’s understood that if your S.O. loves someone else, he or she can act on that love physically and emotionally. There is no “claiming” of a person as “mine” . . . you pretty much have to be OK with your partner sharing intimately with another person or people. And vice-versa.

So, I really am not OK with this idea. I once read a book set in a hippie commune, and all the hippies were in open, “free love” relationships. In theory, this may sound meaningful, but in practice it seemed more like a chance for the men to get laid as often as possible, because hey, baby, why don’t you want to share the love? There wasn’t very much deep emotional connecting going on.

Anyway, I’m sure people currently in open relationships would take issue with my description, seeing as I got it from a book, and in some ways I can see their argument. Because the main reason I could never be in an open relationship is my jealousy and insecurity. I don’t want my S.O. to be with anyone except me. And is jealousy or insecurity really the best reason to do anything? Is the only argument for monogamy that we’d all be horribly jealous if we weren’t monogamous?

Because that doesn’t seem like a very good reason. Maybe we should all just get over it.

But I don’t believe that. I think there are more reasons for monogamy than just jealousy and insecurity. And so I turned to Wendell Berry.

(A note: I love WB. He writes amazing essays and poetry about agrarian life, and life in our messed-up culture, and relationships and all kinds of stuff. He’s sensible and thought-provoking and just so cool. It takes awhile to wade through his prose, because it is so packed full of ideas, but it’s definitely worth it).*

So WBs argument for monogamy—or rather, fidelity—is that it’s a harnessing and a containment of the energy of sexuality. That it’s not a “grim, literal duty enforced only by willpower” but rather a virtue that leads to “harmony between one creature and another.” It’s the “necessary discipline of sexuality, the practical definition of sexual responsibility . . . the keeping of faith, not just with the chosen one, but with the ones forsaken. The marriage vow unites not just a woman and man with each other; it unites each of them with the community in a vow of sexual responsibility toward all others. The whole community is married, realizes its essential unity, in all of its marriages.”

This may sound like WB is advocating open relationships, but he’s actually advocating marital fidelity for the sake of the community . . . that monogamous sexuality is a responsible way of showing love and respect to the other members of your community. Because it is a responsible harnessing of a human energy . . . energy that can be destructive if it’s not channeled. Like most of the energies in the physical world, unlimited access is not a healthy thing.

So, that seems like a much better argument for monogamy/fidelity than just a bunch of jealous insecurity. Although that’s always going to be there. And maybe jealousy isn’t completely negative. I don’t think it’s wrong to want to be special—the most special—to someone.

But either way, everyone should just read more Wendell Berry.

*all the quotes in here are from an essay, The Body and the Earth. It’s collected, with a bunch of other essays, in The Art of the Commonplace: the Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry, published by Counterpoint, 2002.

Underrated

Sometimes amid the welter of modern life (is welter really a word? I think it is, but I'm too lazy to look it up) I forget about little conveniences that make it so easy. So here are two I've thought about lately:

Air conditioning. This is awesome. It's 90 degrees, 88% humidity, and a fan can't do ANYTHING except blow hot air around. But I can plug in and turn on my trusty AC, and in awhile, the heat has disipated and I can sleep or relax in cool, temperature-regulated comfort. What a freakin' great invention.

The flush toilet. Seriously. I never think about it, but can you really imagine the alternative? An outhouse? What if you had to leave the office to go out back and use the facilities? Gross.

And, randomly, here's a picture taken tonight at a baseball game. See me on the far end . . . now with bangs!

On Business

My first business trip ever is over. I’m sure there are twenty-seven-year-olds who’ve been on multiple business trips. My brother isn’t even twenty-five and he’s always flying to Toronto “on business.” But this trip to Baltimore was my first time staying in a hotel, going to a workshop, and eating at restaurants on the company dime.

I highly recommend it, especially if the co-worker who goes with you also happens to be a good friend.

The best part of the trip wasn’t the workshop (although I liked it and it was mostly good copywriting information), the fun part is seeing new cities and checking out places I haven’t been before. While wandering around Inner Harbor we happened upon a cheering crowd of people, all watching these two guys breakdance and throw themselves around. There was a third guy, who reminded me of the fat guy on Good Times, who was the MC. They put on a good show: pulled volunteers out of the audience and made them have a dance-off, and were funny and entertaining. I like the randomness of just stumbling across stuff like that.

We also rode a paddle-boat around the harbor, drank frozen margaritas, ate dinner at a nice seafood restaurant and speculated about the various people listening to the piano player at the seafood restaurant.

And we discussed plans to take over our company, because that’s imminent.

After this trip I am convinced that these seminars are mainly giant money-making productions and that Mike and I could put one on, no problem. Mike didn’t seem so sure, possibly because he’s actually thinking clearly, but I maintain that a hotel conference room in Harrisburg, and a well-designed brochure would pull in all the people we’d need at $800/head (or less, just to get them there). Then we’d just do a powerpoint, tell stories from our vast experience, and read from copywriting books. Plus, make the participants workshop their projects, which would kill about two hours. The main goal is to be entertaining in front of a big group, which might be a bit of a problem. But as Mike pointed out, we could always come drunk.

So, I've been working on my brochure copy. What do you think? Would you come to our seminar?

Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York . . . Why should you have to travel to a big city?
introducing the first Central PA Online Copywriting Workshop!

Where: Harrisburg, PA
When: Sometime

Online advertising is the future of marketing. If you don't have the tools you need to write for email and the web, you’re already two steps behind. Get caught up . . . and then surpass your competition. You’ll learn how here!

At the Online Writers’ Workshop you’ll learn:

--how to make your email blasts even more effective
--how to write and design HTML emails that can increase your business immediately
--how to write for websites . . . no, it’s not the same as print advertising!
--how to create compelling copy for Flash movies
. . . and much more!

In addition to the online focus, you’ll also get a crash course in techniques that work for all mediums
--hot button and “trigger” words that spur your customers to action
--ten mistakes that most copywriters make . . . and how to avoid them!
--grammar rules for the new millennium . . . it’s not your grandmother’s grammar!
--tips for writing to young audiences who are “immune” to advertising gimmicks
--and the hot new trend: Copywriting on Mars!

About the facilitators:
Michael M. and Melanie H. are experienced copywriters who have written extensively for email, web, and flash, as well as print mediums. They are old enough to know what they’re doing, and young enough to bring a fresh perspective to the business.

Michael M. has been employed as a copywriter for about sixteen months. He can write a great "folksy" text email, and is wicked creative when it comes to HTMLs. He’s also written postcards for medical/dental offices and colleges. He believes all punctuation should be located inside the quotation marks, and enjoys teaching Copywriting on Mars.

Melanie H. has been employed as copywriter for three weeks, but wrote a lot before that. She is all about finding new ways to say “amazing” and “incredible” and frequently references the Synonym Finder. Recently she wrote her first flash copy, and the sales guys really liked it. Next on Melanie’s list of goals: to get herself a bottle of XanGo.

Supergirl in da Hood

Tonight I went for a walk. Sometimes, rather than go to the gym, I like to take a walk around the neighborhood. At least in the summer.

And sometimes, when I’m walking around the neighborhood, people (okay, men), like to make comments. They do this to most women, and the comments aren’t really creepy, although I’m never sure what the men hope to accomplish with them. How do they think I’ll react?

It’s not like I go on these walks looking for attention. I’m usually wearing grubby shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers. (Unlike the woman I saw tonight in a green tank top, short shorts, and five-inch, lime green heels).

So tonight I was wearing my bright gold Superfan t-shirt. I got this shirt when I used to work at a high school. All the basketball fans wore them, and even though I’m sure that the imprint is some kind of copyright violation, no complaints were ever filed.

Anyway, I was walking by a porch and I heard, “Hey, Supergirl!” I turned and looked. Two men were sitting on the porch. “Supergirl’s coming.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“This Supergirl wears black and yellow, right, Supergirl?”

“That’s right.” I kept walking, but I was unoffended, and actually kind of flattered. First of all, I was happy it was Supergirl and not Superwoman. And I could tell this was more of a friendly shout-out than anything weird.

And then, as I walked home, I had a little strut in my step.

Because I AM Supergirl, damn it!

There Goes the Bride

Busy weekend. Lots of fun. Good wedding. I only took about four pictures, and none of them turned out well except this one. I'll probably have more later. Friday night we had the obligatory girls night, complete with gifts of lingerie and x-rated fortune cookies (which contained more poorly written fortunes), along with bottles of wine and phallic peppermints. Really, however, it was all very tame.

The wedding was a success, lovely ceremony, no problems, SO MUCH extra food, and some great pictures . . . I think. I was excited because, as the maid of honor, I thought I'd get to sign the "witness" space on the marriage license. But apparently marriage licenses no longer have "witness" spaces . . . so we created two. But still.

I saw a lot of people this weekend that I haven't seen in awhile, and so had to tell them about my new job. I like my new job a lot . . . it's fun, and I'm writing, and I have lots of co-workers, and I get bonuses, and this Friday we got out two hours early, plus pizza for lunch. But it's really hard to explain WHAT exactly I write. Or maybe I just don't want to tell people, because I feel like they'll assume it's all spam emails and other ridiculousness.

But if I'm happy, why do I care what they think?

I think my old job was more fun to explain . . . and this job is more fun to actually DO.

So, I get to go to the job again tomorrow, and on Wednesday to a copy-writing seminar (today I had a confusing conversation about copyWRITING vs. copyRIGHTING, which are two totally different things) in Baltimore. And this should be awesome. I hope the workshop is good, but even if it's not, I get to go to Baltimore, and stay in a hotel and eat at restaurants . . . and possibly visit a new Barnes & Noble with Mike, which is good, because we've exhausted all bookstore possibilities in Central PA.

It's going to be sweet!

I'm so Vain

Since I got my digital camera, I’ve spent most of my time taking pictures of myself. I very rarely like my own pictures, and so I spend all of my time searching for the elusive great picture of me. The one that will convince me that I’m absolutely gorgeous, and that all the other pictures of me to this point have been grossly inaccurate and misrepresentative.

I have not yet taken this amazing picture. Probably not going to. But tonight I had fun because it was hair trial time. Tonight I got my hair done, in a lovely updo, as a practice for the wedding on Saturday. It turned out well, and I liked it so much I left it in for awhile. On a Wednesday night. While I walked around the neighborhood in my exercise clothes. From the neck down, I looked like a slob. From the neck up, I looked like I was going to prom. I just figured it was like a ponytail, only more elaborate. OK, not really. Really, I kind of wanted to show off.

So, I just took it all out, trying not to break all my hair in the process.

Before


After

Wheel . . . of . . . FORTUNE!

Today at the Chinese restaurant, I happily pulled open my fortune cookie. I like fortune cookies, but so often they have only preachy fortunes, like "The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is a little extra" or predictions about personality, like "You are well-liked and respected."

These aren't fortunes. I want a fortune cookie that says "You will meet a handsome stranger" or "You will travel across the ocean." Last Saturday I got a good one: "You will be involved in many gatherings, parties, and communications." Now that's a fortune!

But today when I opened my cookie: five fortunes! FIVE! My cookie overflowed with badly written fortune.

They were:
--You take an optimistic view of life. (not exactly true)
--Confucius say: lovers in triangle not on square. (I don't really understand this.)
--Great thoughts come from the heart. (What kind of tripe is this? What does that even mean?)
--You have yearning for perfection. (this is true)
--You have yearning for perfection. (as is this)



-------------------------------------------------
In other news, I heard that song "Bad Day" five times today without trying. I think that's a record.

And, although I have seen no more cockroaches, my kitchen had an ant invasion today. Since I don't have any ant spray, I spent ten minutes smiting them like an angry deity.

Ewww.

Last night at 4 AM, I awoke to a tickle on my neck. And as I lay there, I could feel the tickle moving. A bug. I reached up and grabbed it, expecting something small, maybe a winged thing, like a moth. But when I grabbed it, I could feel a body, and legs, and it was disgusting. I threw it away, into the dark, and then I lay awake, cowering, imagining the thing (I pictured a big-ass spider) crawling back toward me like some kind of heat-seeking missile. I was so tense I couldn’t really go back to sleep, but I didn’t want to get up and have to deal with it, either.

Finally, at 5 AM, I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I came back I turned the light on to make sure the bug wasn’t in my bed or even on the floor by the bed. No sign of a bug, and I relaxed and went to sleep.

Then tonight when I pulled up my bedroom blind to put the fan in the window, I saw a bug. A giant, six-legged, antenna-ed cockroach. It was much worse than I’d even imagined. That THING was crawling on my neck! Last night! While I slept! I can't really prove it was that bug, but what else could've woken me from a sound sleep?

I don’t have a bug phobia, and I’m not the kind of girl who can’t deal with the occasional necessary squish. But the thought of squashing that giant thing made me cringe. I would have rather left the room, or my house, and called some man to come over and deal with things. “No,” I said to myself, “You have to kill it.” I had to kill it. It was either him or me.

So, I went to the bathroom and got a giant wad of toilet paper. Enough so there was no chance of feeling a thing through the layers.

And I came back to the bedroom and squashed it good.

Then, after a quick glance to make sure it was squished—it was, and I’ll spare you the details—I ran to the bathroom and threw it in the toilet and flushed as fast as I could.

But it’s gone. Dead and flushed. And, God willing, that will never happen again (please).

Things that Made Me Smile

1) Today I read this article called "The Fight Against the Penny." Apparently a Congressman has been fighting a war against the penny for a long time, and now that the price of zinc to make the penny has risen higher than the value of the penny itself, he thinks he has a chance to win this fight. My favorite quote, however, is from Mark Weller, who is part of the "pro-penny organization, Americans for Common Cents."

"Americans overwhelmingly want the penny," said Weller. "They also hate rounding."

This made me laugh outloud. I love that there are organizations that are "pro-penny." And I especially love that they think Americans overwhelmingly want the penny. Do we? Do I? Honestly, I've never thought about it. But I kind of like rounding.

You don't speak for this American, Mr. Weller!

2) I read this article on bootleg movies now available on DVD. My favorite: Deafula. The vampire movie done completely in sign language.

3) Tonight at the gym I saw four twenty-something guys, all big and bulky and macho, glued to the TV to watch the end of the National Spelling Bee.