monet is famous.


so as you may have heard, monet was featured in the december issue of cat fancy magazine. she was shown under the new products as well as in an ad for the holiday gift guide. she's soon to be seen on catnex product boxes, brochures and much, much more.

by the way, if you have a cat, i highly recommend these cat activity centers that monet modeled for. you can build them to fit anywhere in your house and it's like a kitty jungle gym. good times for your feline friends...http://www.felinefurniture.com

cheers.

merry christmas to me.


so i have to admit - this christmas rocked. there were holgas. gift certificates to anthropologie. a lovely ring. and season passes to disneyland. i can now stylishly take stellar photographs of the happiest place on earth. i think 2006 is going to be a good year. yes indeed.

it doesn't get better than this...

one of my favorite clients posted a blog after having to work with my last boss. i could not have described him better myself...enjoy.

The battery is running low on my laptop so this will have to be quick. There will be no time for mulling over choice of words. If there is still some juice remaining in my spanking new Dell when this is finished, I will run a hasty spell-check. Dear members of our industry, I write today informing you of a modern malady. This pandemic is rapidly spreading like wild fire in the backyard of a seasoned arsonist. The odds are that the majority of you have already been in contact with a carrier of this contagious condition. This head case is called marketing narcissism. According to the Greek legend, Narcissus fell in love with his own image reflected in a pool. Similarly, the marketing narcissist is a self-proclaimed marketing guru who falls in love with his own reflection on his PC. Narcissus was of the male persuasion and so is the typical MN. Women are clearly the smarter sex, though I am admittedly baffled with their unified obsession with Johnny Depp. However, at least when a female is an expert in a particular field, she doesn't spend her life spreading the gospel of her personal achievements.

A marketing narcissist is omniscient. Period. Even God, whenever in doubt regarding a business dilemma, will seek advice from this enlightened human. A marketing narcissist is omnipresent. Fact. Yesterday he was Idaho delivering a Power Point presentation to the Amish. Tomorrow he will be lecturing the Catholic clergy on the merits of preaching the E-Bible. A marketing narcissist is omnipotent. Non-fiction. He can walk on his head on water. Take that Jesus!
Are you a MN? Do you work with a MN? Are you coming down with MN symptoms? Is there a vaccine for MN? And finally, if a marketing narcissist hails from Minnesota, will he then be nicknamed as the MN from MN? I will do my best to shed light on this nascent outbreak. The following are common characteristics of a MN:

Coitus Confessions: During sex he yells out Seth Godin's name. If you never heard of Seth, your prognosis is a healthy one. FYI, Seth became a MN after seeing his own reflection radiating off his shiny skull.

Publishes Rubbish: He writes a personal blog dedicated to the fluctuating trends of marketing mannerisms. His blathering blog links to blistering blogs authored by fellow geishas, gurus, geniuses, gnomes and gnats. There is no happy ending to his pontificating penmanship. He has high hopes to one day publish a best-selling book with an exotic title (for e.g. Jack Welch Loves 2 Belch, Donald Trump likes to Hump!, Alan Greenspan has Touretts?)

Cherishes Cardboard: In his home, behind his life-size self-portrait, rests a Brinks-issued safe. Locked up inside are his most valuable possession; myriads of business cards stealthily accrued during networking sessions. To be fair, he always grab fistfuls of cards from the raffle bowl while supplementing them with his own, thereby increasing his odds of winning, but hey, this world is a competitive place.

Magazine Megalomaniac: He can recite verbatim the cover stories & editorials of Internet Retailer, Fast Company, Marketing Sherpa & Revenue, dating back to inception. These precious periodicals are his sole source of neurological nourishment. He reads them hot of the press. Literally. I kid you not. The man actually stakes out the printing location from across the street with a powerful pair of binoculars.

Expensive Excrement: Let's put the scatological humor behind us. For the sake of mature journalism, the subject of dung will remain far-flung. This essay will be wiped clean from all obscene references. OK. Here it is. The holy grail of marketing narcissism tendencies is when the MN habitually defecates dollar bills.

THE END

lost:found

so this morning on my way to work i saw a lost little munchkin wandering down my street. i was already barely making it to work on time, but i couldn't bear the thought of leaving a little dog to wander around our racetrack of a street. so i pulled over and met my newest friend. she came straight into my arms and we bonded instantly. we don't know her name, so we've named her love. she's the most docile little creature i've ever encountered and i don't want to let her go. but it's the holidays, and i would be crying endlessly if i ever lost one of my pets, so the found signs are going up when i get home from work today. maybe i can offer to be her pet-sitter if her family is ever away...

UPDATE: after posting signs all over our neighborhood last night, our little love was reunited with her owner. her name is daisy and she lives a few doors down from us. i'm already missing my love.

ancient thoughts resurfacing...

i'm somewhere in the middle.
in the middle of what, that i'm not quite sure of.

i seek to be resolute, yet on a constant quest of question.
i seek to understand everything, yet i grasp nothing.

do i bite the bullet, or engage in the fight?

these are the things - these mindless ramblings - that leave me in the middle of things. in the midst of things. in the commodity of being...

love. love. love.


it's finally mine.
welcome to the end. of the page that is.

say hello.

all content © natalie shahmiri 2006 - 2010