Old School Fiesta

My daughter has a way with hamburger meat--meat loaf, gourmet and smothered burgers and tacos. Just delicious. We had them yesterday, as an end-of-week celebration and part of Saturday us-time.

This was an odd week. I had some ups and downs and dealt with what I thought to be some slights, remarkably well. When just two weeks ago, I was dealing with the launch of two significant projects, this week was some--I don't know that I'd call it fall out-- but some weirdness around those projects. And in Hip Soul Chic fashion, I handled them well. I think.

This is what went down. We rushed and rushed, and pushed and didn't sleep to deliver one project for the start of gridiron season only to have the site not even up and running. No fault of ours, they insisted on us posting the modules to their server. Then in some typical-- folks will ask for more than they should, as they pay you far below what any normal human being even a desperate for a project one would accept--way, pulled that "I'm the client and I'm doing you a favor" bullshit and started being more than nit picky and asking for changes instead of tweaks and claiming we weren't doing the work when it was her tech guy who was the cog in the wheel. Aarrghhh. Then the client (and I use the title through tightly clinched teeth) had the nerve to go behind my back and ask my folks to do the work she knew I would not approve. Frickin' ingrate. Was 250+ additional hours on a project not enough for you? Was the fact that we delivered something that not only surpasses what you could have imagined or even asked us to design, not enough? Was this not delivered on time, beyond expectation and going to guarantee another decade worth of relationship with your high profile partner (who views you as the the bench- warmer that they have to amuse because he's the owner's kid) ? Folks are a mess. No doubt, she'll ask for more and try to squeeze all she can out of us, when what was delivered is more, and I do mean more, than what anyone will expect.

So if that wasn't enough, I couldn't get a read on my other team on the other project and almost felt like ideas I had shared were being --dare I say: stolen? and emails and requests not being answered, and my excitement and dream having to be reworked yet again. But alas, things got back on track and I'm once gain excited by the prospect of what is going to be something way cool and meaningful (in a capricious sorta of way, not a Doritos empowering kinda way).
I got inspired and I'm convinced that folks don't get it and build sites without the users in mind. Are they not users? All the hype and buildup kills me, when you get to the site and there is nothing, you can't find the much talked about exclusives and video (let alone how to find it if it did exist) and the site fails to engage, or be relevant to anyone other than the pre-pubescent woman-child the developer was fantasizing would one day bed him after he built the over-hyped, underwhelming site he overcharged some poser marketing folks for. Not that I piss where I sleep, but you know to whom I am referring.

So in the midst of this madness that frankly had me depressed and ready to get a real job, I accompanied my daughter to Columbia for a meet and greet/ tour/ informational session thing. She plans to go there next year, as she inches closer to being a doctor. (I'm going to need that lobotomy sooner than later foolin' with these idiots I call clients). And it brought back some feelings and stirred up some stuff, I wasn't equipped to deal with this week in the midst of my tech crisis.

I love school. I loved being in school and think of those school days as the best times of my life. If only I were a practicing attorney vs. the entrepreneur of many hats I find myself being these days, perhaps I'd get some quicker responses to emails, calls and I'd be taken a bit more seriously? That's a rhetorical question I ask myself daily. So being on that campus and imagining my father walking around and philosophizing (he studied there), and my cousin accepting an esteemed award (she taught there), and now my daughter about to make a mark on these grounds made me a bit weepy, if not filled with pride of her seemingly endless abilities that go far beyond her ability to render me nearly comatose, if not euphoric, which her cooking seems to do.

Wow, seeing her all grown up and about to embark on a journey which has had its share of false starts and detours, is quite emotional. I know she's going to make it and do more than well. That's not the problem; it was the feelings of missed opportunities that I had that filled me with regret, at a time when I should only be thinking about her and what she must be feeling. But I guess that's just me the over-achiever who gave birth to an over-achiever who is achieving things that I could only dream of. I guess I made a way for her in some small way, so I should have no regrets.

As her incredible journey begins and we celebrate all that awaits, I guess my new journey begins too and opportunities still are available to me. I just have to make my own and have no regrets.

Party on...

My Fashion Week

Two weeks ago, two key things happened: Football season started and Fashion Week kicked off. I'm in heaven and a bit of hell. As the daughter, mother, sister, niece, granddaughter of fashionistas (and some sharp brothas)--fashion fuels me. Not just shopping and imprinting my own style, but the colors, fabrics, energy and creative energy involved. It's a way of life. It is life. And right now, life is good.

And then we have sports. My other passion (I have many, and that's...okay). Favre came to NY. Phelps reigns supreme (I was a swimmer and lifeguard). Brady got injured (sniff) and Michigan will always be numero uno to all (!) So, that part of my spirit is in a good place too.

But what to do when both worlds call, and I need to answer professionally and personally to both? So just when this could have been the best week EVER, I was too busy to truly grasp what it meant to me and for me. And in many ways for my being Black in America. I've had opportunity to do some cool things in my days; And for all my fussin' and cussin' and stressing over getting things just right and getting my due--I worked on two significant releases this week: the site redesign of the NFL/United Way Agency's partnership microsite, and the launch of a fashion and shopping online digest http://www.insidethetents.net/.

Next week, after all the pieces have been tested and all the modules function like a well coached team, one of the coolest sites on the web will hit the virtual field. When folks log on and see the moving timeline, players profiles that jump of the page, trading cards that flip and all the other bells and whistles, I'll be quietly on the sidelines saying: "Not bad for a little girl of color who wanted to be in the Olympics and be a sports agent, but the timing wasn't right". Uhn...

And then when Italian Vogue published an all Black model edition of their magazine this year, and the catwalk at Bryant Park is bright, but light on the usage of sistas and brothas, I pulled a coup that those in their Ivory-fashion-mag-Towers would never suspect: I go inside the tents to capture the moments and bring access before others do and will. And it won't stop there--London, Milan and Paris are next and there's Tokyo too. For all their money and seeming power, I relied on good ole fashion Black girl-get it done ingenuity (and years of business know how and relationships), and did my thing. From behind the scenes: I walked the walk. Uhn...

So my head is still pounding (no real sleep in weeks), and my fingers numb. My still heart torn between two loves (alas, there is TV, film and music too and those projects to deliver), I still have tweaks so that the work is perfect, but in the end, I realize I did good this week and made a mark on America in my own small, but significant way. What was all the fuss?

Carry on and pass the remote...