I wasn't anywhere special. I was a sophomore in college, and I lived on the 7th floor of Yocum Hall on what used to be Ozark Avenue. I woke up to the louder-than-usual TV and my roommate telling me to check our phone for a voicemail. Our RD had left a voicemail for everyone in the building - there had been an accident in New York. We watched the news all morning and when the second plane crashed we knew something was really, really wrong. It goes without saying that it was all people could talk about. It seemed everyone knew someone who knew someone who was in NY that day. And even those of us who didn't know someone personally - knew that it would affect us.

When I was in New York for work a few weeks ago, we were on the 16th floor of the Saatchi & Saatchi building in the West Village and looking out the window to see the Statue of Liberty. The NY members of my team were telling us the story of the day they stood in that window and watched the first tower in flames - thinking it was an accident. They stood in that window and watched the second plane hit. They described the chaos that immediately took over -- people just dropped everything and ran.  Everyone trying - at once - to use cell phones -- circuits were jammed.  There was a woman, 8 months pregnant, trying desperately to call her husband. Managers going from office to office making sure everyone was going home -- giving hugs to people in hysterics. They said you really saw another side of people's character that day. It was surreal to hear a first-hand account like that -- myself being "safely" tucked away in Fayetteville, Arkansas on that day.

Where were you?

I was determined not to like the Harry Potter books. They've been out since I was in high school and I've managed to avoid both the books and the movies all this time. The 7th book came out when I was on vacation in NYC last month. My friend Angela - big fan of both books and movies - convinced me to give it a try. So I bought the first book. It was just ok. It's truly a children's book and so very predictable. The characters were fun, but the plot was so-so. I told Angela this. She made me buy the second one - swearing that they get better.

I kept thinking to myself that surely all of this worldwide frenzy couldn't stem from this slightly-better-than-mediocre children's book -- they HAD to get better. So I agreed to read the second one. It was more of the same. Same basic plotline, the characters developed into people you care about -- but nothing earth-shattering. I began to have my doubts about society - have we reached the point at which we are entertained by reality TV and Harry Potter?

Angela again promised that they get better and I would be in love starting with the 3rd book. I believed her. And have since finished both 3 and 4 and have cried twice. I can hardly believe I am caught up in the nonsense I have gone this long not understanding and, thus, ignoring. What's amazing is that so many people pushed through to the 3rd book -- but I guess back then there wasn't mass hysteria and there weren't movies and action figures and whatnot so there was no hype to not live up to.

So last night. I officially and totally succumbed to the madness. I had a dream about Harry Potter. The best part is, though, that the dream also included one Gus Pike! For those of you who are tragic enough not to know Gus Pike - he was a character on a TV show called Road to Avonlea which was a spin-off of Anne of Green Gables on the Disney channel when I was a little girl. We watched it over and over and over, and - even in college - Andrew and I would bust out a VHS he had of some of the episodes and watch them after a particularly hard day of Cal 2. Mmmm. It brings back such great memories.

This morning as I awoke from my Harry Potter/Gus Pike dream I realized that my subconscious made a connection that I never could have -- Gus Pike was the Harry Potter of the early 20th century! Gus Pike was the unlikely hero, the scruffy-looking boy that was often overlooked by the reputation-obsessed other characters, always getting himself into some spot of trouble only to get himself out with a little help from friends and a lot of luck. 

I realize this is complete nonsense to those of you who don't know Gus Pike as intimately as I do, or even for those who haven't read Harry Potter -- but it's refreshing to know that in a world filled with Flavor Flav and Britney Spears, there are characters like Harry and Gus to keep us grounded.

I wonder if they'll make this a movie.

Angela inherited a 2lb bag of Dove chocolate from her secret pal this morning and I'm helping her eat it -- because I'm that kind of friend. I'd like to share with you a few of the "PROMISES message"s that I've received today via the inside of the empty chocolate wrappers:

Go to your special place.

Flirting is mandatory.

Temptation is fun, giving in is even better.

Naughty can be nice.

And my personal favorite: When two hearts race, both win.

The cheesiness was making me smile -- and I can't help but feel sorry for the sad, single, old maids out there sitting around on their lonely couches surrounded by cats and empty Dove wrappers....

Sorry if I scared anyone with the last post. My boss sent that to me -- with my name in it -- and I'm here to tell you that whatever anxiety it provided you was nothing compared to the freak-out I had in my apartment when I was watching the video myself. Once I realized it was an advertisement, I thought it was brilliant. We are always trying to think of ways to send things virally like that -- using MySpace and blogs and the like.

Are you aware that Arby's no longer serves Homestyle Fries?

Watch this.

So I went to NYC again last week. This time there was no shopping on 5^th Avenue or strolling in Central Park. There was lots of grueling, hard work. Not really…. I did go for work, but we had as much fun as we did anything else. As much fun as Planes, Trains and Automobiles can be…

We left Monday afternoon on a direct flight to Newark (after a 45 minute delay that seemed like a big deal at the time, but would prove to be the least of our travel issues all week). As soon as I turned my phone back on when we landed – it was ringing like crazy. My client (who had taken an earlier flight and was already in the city) was at our hotel and they didn’t have our reservation. I didn’t have our confirmation numbers with me – not sure why – but he had just been hanging out in the lobby for an hour with no room. Great. The confirmation numbers are on my desk in my office in Fayetteville – and even if I could convince someone to go up there and get them – they don’t have a key… So client finally convinces the hotel to let him have a room at the rate they’d given me over the phone weeks ago – and he checks in. He makes a point to phone and tell us, “only check in for one night – we’re not staying here – you’ll see when you get here”. Great. The place is a dump. Turns out it wasn’t bad, but the service was awful. The guy at the front desk when we got there watched us haul our bags up the steps and in the door in the rain – never offering to get us help. He muttered under his breath the whole time about “no reservations” and that he was “doing us a favor”. He wouldn’t let us use a company card – out of spite. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. I’ve never seen a hotel with such unfriendly amenities. Their mini-bar had computer sensors under the items – and warnings that if you removed anything for longer than 2 seconds – it was as good as purchased.

So Tuesday. Raining again. Harder this time. We pack up everything and leave the hotel before New Yorkers are even considering getting out of bed. We check into another hotel (after spending 2 hours the night before on the phone trying to get reservations) and leave our bags at the front door. This hotel is more than accommodating. We head to the Saatchi building for all-day meetings. Tuesday is relatively uneventful – except for the table full of sushi and sake that we had for dinner. Yum.

Wednesday was really the beginning of the end. The plan was to take a car service out to Union, NJ and visit a Wal-Mart, Target and Babies ‘R Us (the agenda for the trip was to onboard our new team in NY to the Baby/Family business at Wal-Mart) since there are no such stores in the city. We had GPS. We had Google Maps directions. We still managed to get lost for 2 hours in New Jersey. It got kinda ugly with our car driver, and at one point he threatened to make us get out in downtown Newark. We talked him down from the ledge and finally managed to find Target. Wal-Mart and Babies ‘R Us were both within a mile so we got dropped off and had to walk. (Note: This isn’t like walking a mile in pedestrian-friendly Manhattan. This would be like walking the “mile” between Target and Wal-Mart in Fayetteville. In wet grass.) So what was supposed to be a nice afternoon of store-walks turned into an all-day ordeal. We finally got back to the city and ate at a great Indian restaurant for dinner. Then we turned lamo and crashed around 6 for what was scheduled to be our last night in NY.

Thursday. This was the kicker. We check out of our hotel and schlep all of our luggage to the Saatchi office for some morning wrap-up meetings and to get back in touch with our office back home as there were a couple of pieces that needed to go out last week. So we get up to the office, set up shop (in a corner office that overlooks the Statue of Liberty!) and get some work done. Our flight is scheduled to leave Newark at 3:30. Car is coming at 12:30. We make amazing time getting to the airport – and we’re there in plenty of time at 1:15. I check my monstrous bag and we head to the gate. I make the mistake of eating airport pasta, and we settle in at the gate – Josh with his iPod and me with the last few chapters of Harry Potter 3. We don’t notice at first, but there’s trouble brewing in the airport. We start to notice an increase in cancellation announcements over the PA – and we decide to go check on our flight. Delayed 1 hour. About this time is when I get an email on my blackberry that the cell phone service in NWA is out. Great. No wonder no one is returning my calls. Client is back in the office, wondering where we are. My team is working to get art out the door, wondering where we are… We keep a close eye on our flight. Delayed another hour. Grr. So we’re starting to get a little worried. The monitors are littered with big red letters reading “Cancelled”. Not having any luck getting through to anyone back in the office. About 30 minutes later, Josh decides to walk over and check on our flight. It’s been taken off the board. Perfect. So we go over to the Continental service desk with a hundred-or-so other saps and await our fate. We are almost last in line, and this cute little old man comes over and half-whispers to us that there’s another service desk in the next terminal – no line. We take off. We are almost running through the terminal – desperate to get the next flight out of here. We turn the corner and run smack into a line twice as long as the first one! It seems to be a little better organized and it’s moving (slowly, but moving), AND it’s across the hall from Ben & Jerry’s. So we stay.

After about an hour in line, we get up to the desk to learn there are no flights back to NWA that night. Of course there aren’t. He offers to get us on the same 3:30pm flight the next day. I don’t think so. So we venture into other airlines – something we should have known better than to do. So we leave the service desk with tickets for a flight at 5:30am the next morning – on American – out of LaGuardia. And since Continental Airlines is not liable for any consequential, compensatory, or other damages when it cancels reservations… we were released back into the wild with little-to-no hope for a hotel room for the night. We call our favorite car service to come retrieve us. Again. Meanwhile I wait in line for my luggage. I am to learn that it will take 3 hours to retrieve my bag from “a secure area”. Maybe less – maybe more. I finally reach an agreement with the Baggage Claim office that my bag will travel on the next flight from Newark to XNA on Friday – and I will pick it up in Fayetteville. Foolproof plan. So we call 6 hotels before we find one with 2 vacant rooms. And we head back into the city – approximately 8 hours after we arrived at the airport. Josh – luggage. Me – no luggage.

Our hotel is within walking distance of Times Square so we decide not to be lamos again – and we head out for dinner. We find a BBQ place that doesn’t look TOO touristy… and we drown ourselves in BBQ sauce and something they call “Fall off the Porch Tea”. Mmm. We have a good time and try to focus on the fact that there are WAY worse places to be “stuck” and that this isn’t the end of the world. Back to the hotel – we ask the front desk about the airport shuttle. Yep – free airport shuttle. Sweet. I buy a toothbrush from the front desk and go up to my room to finish reading HP and feel sorry for myself because I have no luggage and I have to wake up at 4 in the morning.

Friday. We get to the front desk to learn that there is indeed no shuttle to the airport. Of course. So we hail a cab at 4:30am – not easy. Get BACK to the airport. Check-in goes smoothly. As we’re standing in line for security, we notice that our boarding passes have “SSS” printed in big bold letters in the corner and that the woman checking IDs has marked them all up with pen – that can’t be a good sign. And it wasn’t. We are both asked to step aside and TSA commences searching our things. I’m pretty sure they went through every piece of paper in my laptop case… Then they come and pat us down like criminals.  So we finally get to put our shoes back on and rejoin society on the other side of the security rope. We get to the gate. I am literally on the last chapter of HP. We start boarding as I am on THE LAST PAGE! Josh is laughing at me as I get up in a huff and practically run onto the plane so I can finish my book in peace. The plane ride was uneventful – I slept the whole time. Back in XNA. Only half expecting to see my luggage. I go to the Continental check-in counter and get the story I was expecting. “No luggage – and we’re not really sure where it is or when it will get here. Here’s an information booklet (that I would only notice later is entirely in Spanish) that explains our policy and here’s your claim number.” Sweet.

I spend the next few days calling the 1-800 number every 4 or 5 hours to check on my bag. No luck. Each time I called they assured me my bag was scheduled on “the next flight”. My bag finally arrived Sunday afternoon!! That is ridiculous.

So. 4 nights, 3 different hotels, 2 different airlines, and 1 cancelled flight later I am back home from New York City. I have no pictures – which I know is disappointing. But knowing that I lived out my own personal episode of Seinfeld is worth the trouble.

Note: This is the 3rd consecutive day of posting - even though I've mostly been stealing other people's humor and plagiarizing here on my site.... That's ok. Still entertaining.

Dad: Those weren't my words, no need to be alarmed. Someone emailed it to me, and I thought it was funny. Though, I remember always thinking similar things about the magic powers of "paper"....

So. Today's topic: Air Conditioning. Please note that I am not about to make any comparisons about how hot it is here compared to other parts of the country and the world - especially since it's been a pretty nice summer. I heard the same piece of information this week from two completely independent sources and I would like to present the question to you for validation. (Mostly I want to know what my Dad thinks - not only because he's my Dad and dads know everything, but because he was in "the business" at one point in time.)

I have been told that an air conditioner can only cool a building up to 20 degrees below the temperature outside. Can this be true?

I absolutely love it when I come across something that seems to speak "just to me". I'm sure other people notice this -- I know Laura does -- you read something in a magazine or you hear a joke in a movie, and you think "they totally had me in mind when they came up with that!"

For example, this Diet Coke ad (which I may or may not have shared here before today):

I see this ad and I think, "they're talking to me." I had a similar thought when I saw a recent Milky Way TV spot. NOT the stupid ones where the girl comes out of the Milky Way like a banana saying, "why so blue panda bear?" -- the new one where the person is standing in front of the vending machine - Ode to A7 - let's see if I can load it here... well, that didn't work -- here's the link. 

This spot lets me know that it's OK that I know that Peanut M&Ms are E4 in the vending machine at work. I have a very similar routine to the one in the commercial. It usually happens around 3 in the afternoon -- once a week or so -- I dig in my desk for change and walk through the breezeway to the cafe. E4. Works every time.

This is perhaps my favorite part of my job -- the emotional connection. Many of you probably think that advertising is trickery - and that I am part of a massive money-grubbing empire that is aimed at separating people from their hard-earned dollars and replacing those dollars with useless and expensive crap. Fortunately, this is not the case. Our challenge,as an agency, is to create lovemarks for people -- to create these emotional connections with the brands that become a part of their lives, integrated into the routine. We are charged with helping them find the right product for their needs -- not tricking them into buying something they don't need or want. This doesn't put me in the same realm as, say, my sister Laura - who is saving the world one Guatemalan volcano at a time.... but I like what I do, for the most part, and my job is mostly fun. How many people can say that about what they do?

Weekend Update: I spent the week in Galveston on business, Becky moved to Fayetteville, we went to see Hairspray! (which is my new favorite movie - this week) on Saturday, and Sunday Don, Josh and Becky came over for some swimming and sunburn. Good weekend. Very tired.