A little fun in Cincinnati (with a Detroit chaser)

For those of you who have always wondered what it's like to do an Annual Report press check in the greater Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area, this is your post.

I recently made my fourth trip to Cincinnati to dot all the I's and cross all the T's on my company's 2009 Annual Report. And I was not alone. My trusty partner in crime Sheila and our intrepid designer Trenton made the trip as well. I have a few lovely photos to share with you here, along with some commentary so you can feel the joy as if you were there!

Let's start by setting the scene... here we are driving up to the printing plant in Northern Kentucky--the rolling hills of the industrial park of Northern Kentucky. This shot is not composed as best it could be, but please cut me some slack, because it was likely taken directly after my head was crunched into the roof of the car as Sheila yet again forgot about the third set of train tracks we cross, barreling over them at break-neck speed. Every. Single. Time.


The printer rolls out the red carpet for its guests with a welcome sign in the entry. This year... surprise! The sign is now electronic! It's nice to see our name in lights. It's also interesting to see who else is there. We've been there when reps from Tiffany & Co. are there. I'm always scoping out the hallways for loose diamonds...

But I digress. Now... the funny thing this year is that we stood there waiting for our names to appear, and when they did, the three of us gave a collective "Ooooh!" followed closely by a sad "Ohhhh, Trenton they didn't include you..."

Followed immediately by an "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" as we saw that Trenton got his *own* screen. Funny moment that cannot accurately be conveyed in type. Here's Trenton's moment in the sun:


Here are Sheila and Trenton in the lovely main lobby. It was a rainy day, but when the sun is shining it's a really lovely space. When we're there for middle-of-the-night press checks we always threaten to just sleep on those black couches/lounges.


People printing large jobs--and therefore at the plant for several days--are given their own "suite" to hang out in while waiting for press checks (it can be several hours between press checks--sometimes you leave, sometimes you stay.) This was the first year we were in Customer Lounge 2. This is the lounge Tiffany & Co. was in when I saw them. I checked. No diamonds.


Sheila and Trenton hard at work...


Very important close-up. Note the Dunkin Donuts cup. Yes, it was a good day.


Outside the customer lounges is, well, another customer lounge. But this is one where everyone is welcome. I've never actually seen the pool table in use, but it adds a certain ambiance. The best part of this area is that there are always snacks. They're hard to see in this photo, but there is always a candy dish with miniature candy bars, and a big basket of large candy bars and tons of chips. And refrigerators stocked with beverages and yogurt. Cereal, fresh fruit and a Starbucks machine. Sometimes they bring in a catered lunch and set it up here. We pass by this area as we come and go, so we often grab drinks/snacks to have at the hotel. If you're a snacker, it's paradise.


My friend Michele worked on the Annual Report at her previous company. She always enjoyed the press check and also mentioned all the food at the printer. This is why she and I are friends.

This is the view from that lounge space. Very nice (on a sunnier day).


Okay, now on to the work part. When we first get there, we read the entire thing again (all 32 pages) for one last proofing. After reading it multiple times already, this can be sheer drudgery. But you have to focus. Time's running out to find those typos! When you give it the final OK, they start printing what they call "forms"--typically eight seemingly random pages that are printed on one sheet. Due to how books are bound, you're rarely looking at sequential pages. Kind of disconcerting, but you get used to it.

Each time they get the form up and running on the press and get the colors where they think they should be, they bring you out to check the colors, registration, etc. So down the steps we go into the plant. In the picture below you can see Sheila heading over to our press. If you look REALLY closely, you can see Trenton's head just to the left of the first white pole--he's farther ahead of us, on our way back to the light table where we can check everything. That area is directly behind the second white pole. Yes, all these paper rolls are for our job!


If you're interested, here's a little bit of what you're seeing in the photo below. Sorry I don't know how to add arrows to make this easier... For the record, ignore the press with the #2 on it. Everything I'll talk about is on the left side of the photo (press # 3, I assume?) So the guy in the picture below is helping to load the next roll of paper onto our press. You can see the roll that's already on there... how the paper is feeding into the long row of metal "stands" (not a technical term). Each of those metal stands has--or can have--an ink in it, so as the paper is pulled through, ink is applied layer by layer.

Where those eight metal stands end, (between the two white poles) there's a long grey dryer that quickly and at a very high temperature dries the ink. Now if you look REALLY closely, just to the left of the second white pole, you see two white rectangles. This is the paper shooting up where it's cut, trimmed and folded before coming down and out the other end on a conveyor belt. This sounds so logical, but when you see the speed at which it's happening, it's amazing. And the press is running the whole time you're out there, the whole time they're adjusting colors and registration per your comments... the press is running... and it's all garbage (well, they'll recycle it, but it's essentially trash!) It's mind-boggling. But that's how printing works!



Remember those two white rectangles I mentioned before? Here they are as we're standing at the light table making changes. The only reason you can kind of make out what's on the page is because the press has stopped. Otherwise it would just be a huge blur.

We had one day this press check where they kept having trouble with the presses shutting down. Essentially, all the fumes from the presses feed into this burner that burns toxins out of the fumes before they're pumped outside the plant. If that burner doesn't work, by law they can't be running the presses. So the burner was a bit of a challenge that day and the press kept automatically stopping. And then you have to give it an hour to cool down before you can start it again, etc. Drama on the print floor! We were down there a time or two when the press would just ... STOP. And all five printing techs within earshot would groan simultaneously.



Remember those eight metal "stands" I mentioned? Here's one of our forms going through those stands. Again, you can see it clearly because the press is stopped.


This is a magenta "stand." Know how I can tell? Look at that pool of magenta ink in the bottom tray!!


Now here we are at the light table (not a technical term, I just made it up). Trenton is working with our printing rep, Mike, a Canadian who says things like "aboot" and "touch wood" (instead of "knock on wood") and who is a great story-teller, great printing rep and gracious host while we're in town. He takes us to some great restaurants (when we have time) and to Steak -n- Shake when we don't have time and/or when it's midnight and nothing else is open. ;-)



Across from the light table is where they control everything happening on the press. If we say the orange is too yellow, they punch a bunch of buttons on various computers, we wait a minute and they pull out new samples with a more reddish orange. We usually go back and forth several times on ink color and registration and various other issues that may come up - skin tone in photos, etc. Again in this picture, you can see the two white rectangles of our pages going up toward the ceiling (upper left of the picture). So this gives you a sense of where we are relative to that first shot.


Next to the light table is a big recycling bin for all the proofs they go through getting the form up to where we want it. It's always a little disconcerting to see your co-workers, customers, even CEO's faces peering up at you from the recycling bin... over and over and over.



You do several actual on-floor press checks over the course of several days (and nights) so you're never sure which technician will be there when you go down. But it's reassuring that the three we worked with this year are all familiar faces from previous years. This guy (behind Sheila) is one of our favorites. Wish I could remember his name...

I should really have a picture here of what happens when you go back up the stairs, out of the plant and into the suites. When you walk out the door, you have to step on a fly-paper-like mat that pulls off any dirt/ink that might have gotten on your shoes, before you track it all over their nice carpet. Kinda fun in a funny way.

Okay, so enough about the work. Now I'll elaborate on a few of the funnier moments from this recent trip. Three of the years we've been to Cincinnati we've stayed at the Hilton downtown which is a lovely old art deco hotel. This year we checked in sort of late. Trenton graciously let Sheila and I check in first. When he got up to the counter they said, "Well, here's the deal. We're completely booked up and we're out of the junior suites. So we're going to put you in a party room. It'll be fine, but here are two vouchers for a free breakfast." The breakfast vouchers are what tipped Trenton off that this might not just be "fine." Below is the door to his room.


Sounds cushy, right? And it is. Check out the living space below! Spacious, well-appointed, tastefully decorated. It even had a lovely dining table and chairs with a vase full of flowers in the center.


The only issue is that a BED is clearly an afterthought...

Here's Trenton, posing on his roll-away bed, which they had clearly moved the dining table over to make room for. Note that it is about 1 foot off the ground and literally tips up and rolls. You'll also note that Trenton, a modest 5'9", is having trouble fitting on the bed. (Note the feet hanging over the end.) Imagine if he were 6'3"? Laughable. Trenton said the bed made him feel like a kid at camp. He took to calling his room Camp Minnetonka.


To add to his woes, you couldn't see the TV from the bed, so Trenton ended up camping out on the couch.

Now, the photo below shows the doorway out to his huge, AWESOME patio overlooking downtown Cincinnati. Unfortunately, the doors were locked. Such a tease that patio is! But Trenton could control the patio lighting. So he had fun pretending he was having a very swanky, metropolitan party, turning the patio lights off and on for ambiance while eating gummy bears on his camper cot.


Contrast Trenton's room with mine. Twice I've been singled out to have a lovely room with separate sitting area and TWO bathrooms. Clean living, people. Stick with me.

However, if you wanted to dance, Trenton's room was clearly the place to be. Or if you wanted to sing camp songs and eat s'mores.

OK, enough about the hotel. We didn't have much time at all to do anything fun this year. But we did venture out for lunch one day, enjoying Potbelly Sandwich Works, where we spotted this dessert clearly made for Sheila!

But she didn't have one... The dream died.

Sadly, I was sick while we were in Cincinnati. Even sadder, Trenton got the stomach flu one day! So one night Sheila and I were on our own for dinner and ventured back to a place we've been several times right across from our hotel (and upstairs from Tiffany's!), Palomino. Here's my pomegranate martini and Sheila's mojito. We drank those right before we got a call for another press check. If there are typos, we'll blame them on the al-al-al-al-al-al-cohol (to quote Jamie Foxx.)



Finally, everyone's favorite photo from Florence, Kentucky. This is the water tower we pass every time we travel back and forth from the hotel to the printing plant. The story is that they built the local Florence Mall and decided to advertise it on the nearby water tower. So they painted "Florence Mall" on it. But then they found out you can't advertise on water towers. So instead of repainting the whole thing, they changed it to "Florence, Y'all." It's one of those sights that you watch for each year... and the press check doesn't really begin until the whole carload of teammates proclaims, "Florence, Y'all!"

I mentioned I was sick on the trip. As was Trenton. And on the way back, flying through Detroit, we missed our connection by sheer minutes. So we were stuck overnight at the less than ideal airport Best Western. It was at some point that day that I lost all interest in documenting our trip in photos. So I have no pictures of that hotel, the prison-style toothbrushes they let us grab out of a rag-tag cardboard box for our "overnight kits," the "tasty" shrimp baskets Trenton and Sheila ordered at the hotel restaurant, the jacuzzis in our rooms which made the two-star rooms cost almost the same as what we paid for those lovely rooms in Cincinnati. I didn't take a picture of the door adjoining the room next door that the drunk people in the next room decided to try to open at 2 a.m., completely freaking me out. I didn't take a picture of us the next day, wearing the same clothes and schlubbing back to Des Moines. I didn't take a picture of my face when I learned my luggage was "unaccounted for." And I didn't take a picture of the ear infection I developed after being sick and flying at the same time.

And shame on me, I didn't take a picture of the lovely Annual Report that was waiting for me when I got back to work after a week off. That is, after all, why we were there. And we did good work. With a great team.

And, gratefully, it's over. Until next year.

The one about the valentines

I love Valentine's Day. For those of you who don't know, I've been making my own valentines for about 17 years. I give them to everyone... my department, other friends at work and just about any family members/friends who are on my Christmas card list. It equals about 120+ valentines, so while I can get a little crafty, my design can't be too complex. It has to work on the assembly line my living room/dining room table become.

There was no great intention behind this tradition. I had found a Hallmark card one year that was really cute and I thought, "I could make this." So I made about 150 of them. That year I put them in clear cellophane bags with candy, tied shut with ribbon. For everyone at work. Yes, I was flush with both cash and time back then. ;)

But it's fun to see them hanging up at people's desks or in people's homes. I have an aunt who has all of them displayed on her dining room hutch year-round. When my uncle and my grandfather both died we dismantled their houses with my valentines posted on the walls. I've had requests from friends who want a certain design I created before I knew them. It's gratifying. It's fun. It's my one surefire time to be crafty all year. And in the middle of a cold and dreary February, who couldn't use a little cuteness and cheer?

Some people (cough, Matt, cough) don't get Valentine's Day as anything other than a romantic holiday, but I couldn't disagree more. It's a fun day to be creative and show people you care. A good excuse for fancy scissors, pink hearts and bags of chocolate. Wasn't this engrained in us in elementary school!? Come on!

I thought I'd post some of the cute valentine's day cards/creations I got this year. And not a single one involved a disgusting chalky candy heart that said "Text me."

Cupid was looking out for me.

Without further ado....


First, a photo my aunt and uncle sent of MY valentine hanging in their window in Sussex, NJ. Note the cute little bird peeking in at my artistic prowess!


My friend and co-worker Scott recently moved to Key West. Since he wasn't going to be at work to celebrate with me, he sent me this emphatic valentine's day sentiment. Sort of a "BE MINE OR ELSE" vibe, don't you think? I love it.


The card below is cute and all, but the fact that it's from my 9th grade English teacher is what makes it so special. She of the awesome handwriting and cool pens and stickers galore and mutual affection for all things Boynton... she was my kind of teacher! Still would be if she hadn't retired. She sends me a valentine every year.



Below is a very Bess-like valentine, compliments of some people who know me well... my parents! The "fortune" reads "You will feel loved today." Awwww... There was even a heart-shaped rubber band inside. And $20. My Starbucks budget thanks you, Mom and Dad!



My co-worker Brenda is just about the most creative cat in town. She puts everyone to shame, and I do mean everyone. She actually has her own box of "flair" at work. Labeled as such! I can't even compete. She made these adorable creations... out of lollipops, licorice and love. (Ignore the messy desk, but I did think it helped convey how welcome this little ray of sunshine was...)

Here's what the leaf said. I even adore her handwriting. It looks like it could be an ad.


Next up... There's a friend of my family who is a big fan of my valentines. She stops at my parents' house every Christmas Eve to drop off gifts and as she's leaving she'll say, "Bess.... less than two months until YOU KNOW WHAT...." (In other words... "get crackin' and don't let me down.") She is also very creative and always returns the valentine favor with items she finds in her house. This year it was metallic red cellophane, a napkin and ribbon. One year it involved an ancient English poem about Bess and delicate fabric trim sewn as a border on the card! Definitely one-of-a-kind and always unexpected. So fun.



My friends/co-workers Joelle and Sheila made cake balls for the department and brought me my own little box of personalized cake balls! What sweet friends. They even wore pink for a festive touch.



Here's what the cake balls looked like up close. The chocolate ones have strawberry cake and strawberry frosting inside. The pink/white ones have red velvet cake and cream cheese frosting inside. Can I say.... YUM! For those who will wonder such things, this is the order I ate the letters in: First I ate an S since there were two of them. Then I had a great debate. In the end I ate the E next, so I'd be left with BS. I knew Joelle would appreciate that. And after that, really, who cares? They were scrumptious.

My sister and nephew made these adorable origami penguins with cute little sticker hearts. Seriously... what could be cuter? I believe the silver one is the male because his heart is down where, well, anyway. I love them.



My friend Jenny who was my residence hall director at Drake made me this one. It's a heart shaped card that she has embellished the hell out of. Now if I did this, it would be overkill. But she pulls it off. It should also be noted that at her bridal shower she had made a super cute/Martha Stewart-worthy felt heart thing for a door prize. I won it and it lives in my kitchen to this day.


Here's the inside of Jenny's card. I really want to know how many she made. And how different they all were.
And that's it! Adorable, aren't they? I love people being crafty and caring for the fun of it.

Tune in next month when I offer up all the green St. Patrick's Day cards I receive. Just kidding. St Patrick's Day is not about the cards. It's about the beer. After all, all the card makers are still on a bender from Valentine's Day. I would know...

It's been Blurgsday all.week.long

On Tuesday, my friend Matt and I were walking out to our cars after work. Matt said, "Can it really only be Tuesday?" I said, "What's a name for the 14th day of the week? Because that's what this feels like." Matt's reply: Blurgsday.

Agreed.

It has been Blurgsday all.week.long. I think it's the longest week that has ever been, not helped by an overabundance of work, odd sleeping patterns due to watching live tennis in the middle of the night and the freakin' frozen tundra that has become our lives this winter.

My house is cold. It's always dark out. I've been working from home s0me days, so I have pajamas on all day. I'm constantly under a blanket. There's good TV on at 4 a.m. I can't tell when one day ends and another begins!

I think, without realizing it, I've even been storing food in my cheeks for the impending hibernation. It's really quite out of control.

Hence, Blurgsday.

At least there was sun today. Outside. While I was at work. It looked nice the one time I glanced out the window.

So, yeah. Blurg. But tomorrow is FINALLY Friday. And that makes me happy. My gal Friday.
TGIFFA! (Which I think you can probably figure out is TGIF with a few fun words thrown in for extra emphasis.)

Bring. It. On., Friday!

You and me both, Rafa

Rafael Nadal, minutes before pulling out of the Australian Open quarterfinals with a knee injury. I'm honestly not sure if it was harder on Rafa or on me.

Things that are getting better

I have a new BFF, and I think you know her. Smart, sassy gal by the name of Oprah. As I discovered tonight, O and I have a few things in common (or at least her magazine writers and I do).

Let me begin with the disclaimer that I am not a disciple in the church of Oprah, as my friend Kristie calls crazy Opraholics. I don't watch the show. Don't visit the Web site. Don't read books just because she puts her seal on them.

But several years ago my friend Brian gave me a subscription to O (The Oprah Magazine) for Christmas and darned if I don't find it interesting, inspiring and uplifting. So I continue to receive it.

This month's cover story is 100 Things That Are (Actually) Getting Better. It's a completely random list that includes, among 93 other things:

• Shapewear

• Your chances of visiting the moon

• Dads

• Skis

• Household drudgery

• Tonkin Snub-Nosed Monkeys

• Betty White

I know, right? How could I not read this story...

Each of the 100 items has a tiny write-up with it, explaining how it's getting better.

Now, imagine my surprise as I'm reading along...
29. Our reputation around the world.
30. The Beatles.
31. Undersea exploration.

I turn the page and see:

32. Iowa.

Uh, whaaa!? Just about the only other locations listed were Beirut and New Orleans, so I had to read on...

32. Iowa. Legalizing gay marriage in 2009 + producing artisanal charcuterie (try La Quercia's organic prosciutto) + University of Iowa football landing among the top 25 college teams for the fifth time this decade + ranking second on mainstreet.com's Happiness Index = one seriously happening Hawkeye State.

Holy fly-over country!

Now if this is some crazy publishing trick where they print a different issue for subscribers in each state, and my cousins in New Jersey are now declaring Oprah's genius at lauding New Jersey for things other than that trainwreck of a show Jersey Shore, well, please don't tell me. I prefer to think Oprah is single-handedly delivering Iowa to her global audience on a silver platter with a little round Oprah-Approved seal on top.

Thank you, O. We'll take your endorsement.

AND! As if that weren't enough (and this is really the moment we became besties) I arrive at #93 to find:

93. Sportsmanship of male tennis players.

(Oh, Oprah, you had me at Iowa!)

"Superbrat." "The Brash Basher of Belleville." "The Bucharest Buffoon." There was a time when the gods of men's tennis--McEnroe, Connors, Nastase--were known as much for their verbal shots as their cross-court ones. But today's champions let their rackets do the talking: When the perpetually verklempt Roger Federer and the quietly gracious Rafael Nadal take the court, it's love-love all the way.

It was at that point that I swooned and shook my head in wonder and declared that Oprah a gem of a gal.

It didn't hurt that she also mentioned book titles and cited one of my recent faves (I Was Told There'd Be Cake). Or that #100 was "Me." Well, she actually said, "You." But she meant me. ME! See, I told you we were BFFs.

That Oprah, she's getting better all the time.

If you're gonna do it, do it fast

I'm not sure what else there really is to say about this sign. But I will set the scene for you a bit... You might see this sign if you were in Davenport, Iowa. In an alley. Behind a residence hall at a local university. You might point and "whaaaaa!?!?!" and burst out laughing with your sister on Christmas Eve when you were just trying to get to the campus post office to buy stamps. And then you might yank your camera out, hand it to your sister and roll the car slowly down the alley so she can get a few good shots. So you can post it on your blog. For all the world to enjoy.

This is all hypothetical, of course.



Ser.i.ous.ly. How is it possible this sign exists!? And how many college students have posed beneath this sign doing God knows what? I shudder to think.

Fake Breaking Up is Not that Hard to Do

Let's face it, I have become a pathetic blogger. I'm not sure anyone is even checking this anymore. Thankfully a few of my legions of readers probably use an RSS feed, so they will see this and will be content in the knowledge that I am still alive. Ahoy, maties! She lives.

I am going to try to jump back on this blogging bandwagon in the new year, but couldn't resist posting today's funny story:

I was fake broken up with by 8:30 a.m. today. And it was hilarious.

I pulled into the parking ramp at work this morning around the time my friend Matt typically arrives. Us cool kids (there is a little gang of four or five of us) park on the west side of the 7th floor, so if we arrive at the same time we can walk in together. As I pulled into a parking spot, I noticed my friend Erik was just pulling in as well. He came over to my car and I rolled down the window to say, "Let's wait for Matt... get in for a minute until he gets here." Plus, I had just picked up one of the grooviest Christmas presents I've ever given anyone, so there was merchandise to ooooh and ahhh over (and after Christmas I'll share pictures and the story so you can enjoy how awesome a gift it is!)

Anywho... Erik gets in my car. As he does, a car pulls up on my left to park. My window is still rolled down and Erik says, "I'm going to fake break up with you now to freak that guy out." Without missing a beat, he starts hollering, "It's not you, it's me!" and "I can't take this anymore!" and "I'm in love with someone else!" Meanwhile I am laughing my head off and hiding my face, afraid to even look in the direction of the poor man who chose to park next to me this morning. He was just trying to get to his office and crunch his numbers. He had no idea what he was getting into this cold winter's morn!

Throughout the day, Erik and I would make references to being fake broken up, and we would retell the story to our co-workers. And then I would think, "Is that man sitting in HIS department telling stories about the poor girl getting dumped in the parking ramp the week of Christmas?" One can only hope. 'Cause if you're going to be fake broken up with, the whole world should really share in the experience.

In other news, Ai yi yi it's Christmas and I don't know what to do. I am behind on shopping. Just starting my Christmas letter. And the great snowstorm that will topple society once and for all is heading our way, so I may need to get on the road a day ahead of schedule. Just a little stressed. So I better get back to being festive and productive.

Holiday greetings to all my dear readers, with hope that all the breaking up you do next year is of the fake variety. It really is preferable to the alternative.