tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6633158347026492972024-02-19T05:59:12.022-05:00affinity for truth, PR, and all things cheesefrani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-67831938119927394722009-05-11T08:47:00.003-04:002009-05-11T09:48:48.936-04:00When An Attempted Murder-Suicide Didn't Stop Mother's Day Coffee Cake Success<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqkPCkN87j754ngpqjzLMZvSTiA3FeJ9zMBqsBczz8inGogHgI79iy8k4Lkpjlp7NONPQPNBgvWEGfaip31LhE95Pf7jSFNQEEKKAvBc-z8jjmAfxkYw4ue5T0pVdccO1QnVZoJLQj5x7/s1600-h/filling.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334561962895071474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqkPCkN87j754ngpqjzLMZvSTiA3FeJ9zMBqsBczz8inGogHgI79iy8k4Lkpjlp7NONPQPNBgvWEGfaip31LhE95Pf7jSFNQEEKKAvBc-z8jjmAfxkYw4ue5T0pVdccO1QnVZoJLQj5x7/s200/filling.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Deciding that my mother would for sure enjoy a chocolate chip coffee cake for Mother's Day, (okay, to be honest, i was unsure about what she'd enjoy but my sister knew!) I purchased all needed ingredients at the local supermarket. I also purchased a pineapple, as a stand-by dessert should my first-ever coffee cake experiment not succeed. The pineapple even touted itself as "extra-sweet," and i'm not sure how they know that, but who am i to question? After a pitcher of (delicious! fruity! just-sweet-enough) red sangria at hoboken's gem of a cuban restaurant Zafra on Saturday evening, i decided the baking would have to wait until the day-of, for best (sober) results. The next day, with all coffee cake ingredients in tow, i left to visit my mom (who would love me even if my cake sucked, score!) The recipe came from my roommate's Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. The recipe called for all of the usual suspects, a big town meeting with flour, sugar, eggs, butter, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and vanilla with special guest speakers chocolate chips. (Ghirardellii f you know me at all) and pecans. I followed all directions- and i know precision is NOT my thing and so i was extra-cognizant of correct measurements and such.... Batter was placed into the loaf pan, save for one-cup on reserve.... Filling was sprinkled and spooned onto the first batter layer, a concoction of pecans and all things sweet (brown and white sugar, chocolate, etc). Reserved batter placed on top of filling, as directed. The recipe called for 40 minutes of baking time, and at about 20 minutes, all of the right smells were wafting through the house (full disclosure- so were smells of all-natural? ant killer to remove the onslaught of little-buggers applying for residence in my parent's kitchen). At about 26 minutes in, half of the top part of the coffee cake decided a fast death would be better than human-consumption, and it hurled itself onto the bottom of the oven. I removed the large chunks as to not burn down my house, and opted for the self-clean oven option later. All systems go again, i spread the batter back over to the vacant side and put down tin foil for any potential suicide-minded batter. It took over an hour (40 minutes does not an hour make, better homes and gardens) for the goo to turn into just brown- enough edges coffee cake. The end result was sort of ugly in an almost pretty and rustic sort of way- my wise friend larry (6 beers deep and maybe not-so wise but more buzzed) explained that nobody has to know about the perils of the cake- he told me to wait until it cooled, and cut that bad-boy into purdy little mother's day slices. Buzzed or wise, he was right! Arranged on a plate with a pile of whole pecans and chocolate chips in the middle, nobody would know about the attempted murder-suicide of the top half.... Except in my expose here, of course. Anyway, he was right. Plated, the whole thing looked just fine. My mom, she's an audible-eater- if she likes something, you'll know from the elicited and sometimes awkward (when in public!) moans. When I heard a dreamy satisfied sigh and some mumble of "good cake" I knew I had succeeded.</div>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-22391898605260967802009-05-08T15:10:00.005-04:002009-05-08T15:28:58.960-04:00Hey, Lazypants, Let Me Google That For You<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNMKt4vYoezkoT_3RAWH80xzNa_7iADxrIadqDsA2Ji2AvBXdXYShmGzmzgaW5JhYvmzozFZKwoIN8TR1QP4CAIb-p1bkRR8XL_IjOmy53z-QuvyXe66WIXpZrBnEn-JlwzTJPoyT13wW/s1600-h/let+me+google+that.png"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333536879774507346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNMKt4vYoezkoT_3RAWH80xzNa_7iADxrIadqDsA2Ji2AvBXdXYShmGzmzgaW5JhYvmzozFZKwoIN8TR1QP4CAIb-p1bkRR8XL_IjOmy53z-QuvyXe66WIXpZrBnEn-JlwzTJPoyT13wW/s320/let+me+google+that.png" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I realize this is old news, but alas my colleagues are a little slow on the uptake, so perhaps this news is not so old? JUST in case, let me share this heavenly piece of sass (and you can thank me later). </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The problem:</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">It happens often. A person asks <strong>you</strong> a question, when in fact, they should be asking <strong>google</strong> the question. Cutting out the middle-man is obviously not something that interests this person, or they are just lazy, or they think you are very smart and hold inane bits of information right in the front of your skull at all times. Whatever the reason, you don't know the answer but you know that the internet does! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The solution:</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Let Me Google That For You, a wonderful little service that lives at: </span><a href="http://lmgtfy.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://lmgtfy.com/</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Let's say that somebody asks you the age of Connie Culp, the face-transplant lady who was shot in the face by her apparently very charming husband. Unless you're crafting a thesis on the now-hamburger eatin' Connie, then there's no reason that you'd have this information on-hand. Instead of googling FOR the lazypants who asked you this, go to </span><a href="http://lmgtfy.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://lmgtfy.com/</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> and type in "how old is connie culp" and then send lazypants the resulting link: </span><a href="http://lmgtfy.com/?q=how+old+is+connie+culp%3F"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://lmgtfy.com/?q=how+old+is+connie+culp%3F</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">. A helpful demonstration will ensue, teaching lazypants how to find information on the internet. Problem solved.<br /></span></div><br /><div></div><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br /><br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /><br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-44303649835026395162009-04-21T09:38:00.009-04:002009-04-21T10:34:14.285-04:00Macaroni and Cheese with a Side of Self-Expression<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0A-Bk0W6p91vPpc3Mc1iox6SeBdGAHv9JCIeSNEAOYlWn74H8MXOAWuqqVGNwHH39cC96B8PIlWcXVjfSe5tTgv12K2ecntF4hHUa_h6eV8S82OoB9jYUjnQBR2oo_h8f1EddBRjDlse/s1600-h/top10_bakedmacaroniandche_s4x3_med.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327145258152026994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0A-Bk0W6p91vPpc3Mc1iox6SeBdGAHv9JCIeSNEAOYlWn74H8MXOAWuqqVGNwHH39cC96B8PIlWcXVjfSe5tTgv12K2ecntF4hHUa_h6eV8S82OoB9jYUjnQBR2oo_h8f1EddBRjDlse/s320/top10_bakedmacaroniandche_s4x3_med.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">As the cold rain falls, most people feel anger or sadness creep in, a slithering reminder of all things dismal. A portent for negative things to come, the rain evokes feelings of cold, hard disarray. For me, though, the cold rain stands for an excuse to make some comfort food! In each rain drop I see macaroni swimming in a heavenly bath of just-brown-enough cheese. This is perhaps a little bit sick and twisted, but moving past the fact that i'm just a wee bit odd, doesn't this sound good? It was. The thing I love most about cooking? It's a form of self-expression. For this recipe, as an example, I started with the work of Alton Brown:</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Baked Macaroni and Cheese</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">(</span><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/baked-macaroni-and-cheese-recipe/index.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/baked-macaroni-and-cheese-recipe/index.html</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">)<br />Recipe courtesy Alton Brown<br /><br />Ingredients<br />1/2 pound elbow macaroni<br />3 tablespoons butter<br />3 tablespoons flour<br />1 tablespoon powdered mustard<br />3 cups milk<br />1/2 cup yellow onion, finely diced<br />1 bay leaf<br />1/2 teaspoon paprika<br />1 large egg<br />12 ounces sharp cheddar, shredded<br />1 teaspoon kosher salt<br />Fresh black pepper<br />Topping:<br />3 tablespoons butter<br />1 cup panko bread crumbs </span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Directions<br />Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.<br />In a large pot of boiling, salted water cook the pasta to al dente.<br />While the pasta is cooking, in a separate pot, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and mustard and keep it moving for about five minutes. Make sure it's free of lumps. Stir in the milk, onion, bay leaf, and paprika. Simmer for ten minutes and remove the bay leaf.<br />Temper in the egg. Stir in 3/4 of the cheese. Season with salt and pepper. Fold the macaroni into the mix and pour into a 2-quart casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese.<br />Melt the butter in a saute pan and toss the bread crumbs to coat. Top the macaroni with the bread crumbs. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and rest for five minutes before serving. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the interest of my waistline, though, I tweaked Alton's (admittedly delicious and rich) recipe around to be a bit more healthful. And, because I like to put my own spin on things, I added a bit o' Lieberman to the mix. Here's mine:</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Baked Wheat Macaroni and Cheese<br />Recipe Inspired By Alton Brown </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ingredients</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">1/2 pound wheat pasta shells (shells do a great job of holding the gooey-goodness hostage)</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">3 tablespoons butter (I use fancy french Pamplie, but not sure it matters in this recipe)</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">3 tablespoons flour </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">3 cups Skim Plus (the *best* skim milk, hands down)</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">1/2 cup yellow onion finely diced (i've recently acquired a Cuisinart and oh my god i will never use a knife again, LOVE LOVE LOVE)</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">1/2 teaspoon paprika </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">a Teensy bit of Cayenne powder</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">1 large egg </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">12 ounces sharp cheddar shredded </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">2 Tablespoons of Blue Cheese</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">1 teaspoon kosher salt </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fresh black pepper </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Directions </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a large pot of boiling, salted water cook the pasta to JUST under al dente. While the pasta is cooking, in a separate pot, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and keep it moving for about five minutes. Make sure it's free of lumps. Stir in the milk, onion, cayenne, and paprika. Simmer for ten minutes. Temper in the egg. What the heck does this mean, you understandably ask? The egg will cook (scramble) if you throw her into a pot of hot bubbling liquid and chunk of egg in your steamy pile of comforting love is NOT what you want. Therefore, add some of the hot liquid to your egg, stir, do this again, stir... just bring the temperature of the egg up and THEN pour it in. Stir in 3/4 of the cheddar cheese and all of the blue. Season with salt and pepper. Fold the macaroni into the mix and pour into a 2-quart casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and rest for five minutes before serving.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Okay, so I didn't have all THAT many changes. You don't mess with a good thing. BUT I did swap the regular pasta to wheat, the whole milk with skim, and I nixed the buttery bread crumbs. Let's be honest- if you have a vat of cheddar cheese and pasta, the breadcrumbs are just not important anymore. The cooking part made me feel good on an otherwise status quo evening. Biting into the end result? Not much is more comforting.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br /><br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /><br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-66718343301456125152009-04-10T15:49:00.002-04:002009-04-10T15:54:52.923-04:00I'm Good At Other ThingsLe Sigh. I'm just awful at keeping up with my blog, and admittedly so. That said, don't give up on me just yet. Microblogging is taking the wind from my long post sails- and that's not to say it's to blame. Only, I'm pretty sure that the constraint of twitter's 140-characters or less induces creativity. And so, my dear readers, i'm totally still blogging. I'm just doing it over at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/frani_lieberman">www.twitter.com/frani_lieberman</a>. There are some things that will still require long form explanation. And that's okay with me. <br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-90014233719246106372009-01-10T13:05:00.003-05:002009-01-10T13:48:32.245-05:00Alliteration City: Facebook is for FriendsIn a myriad of social networks, how do we decide which friends are for where? In an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internet</span> informational highway, how do we presume to know what personal information to post? How much is too much?<br /><br />I remember when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Facebook</span> was solely a virtual space for my friends from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Towson</span> University and high school friends- a way to keep in touch intermittently through semesters. Because of this, my profile shaped up to be quite personal - a photographed documentary of my weekends, vodka consumption, spring break debauchery, last-semester celebrations, festivals, etc. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Facebook</span> was for high school friends, people I met along travels, and college friends. And for a long time, i kept it this way.<br /><br />I had a rule: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Linkedin</span> is for industry contacts and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">facebook</span> is for friends and twitter is for everybody who is interesting. I'm in the midst of a theoretical struggle, as of late. Okay- maybe that's a bit dramatic- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">i'm</span> not losing any sleep. But in any event, here's the problem: Strangers are adding me on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">facebook</span>. Many of them live in New York, are in social media/PR/advertising/web/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">SEO</span>/communications/marketing/what have you, or we share 10+ friends in common. And still, strangers. Certainly not friends. To deny <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">facebook</span> friend status seems silly- i mean, come on. it's just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">facebook</span>. And we have all of those friends in common. And yet still, do I want complete strangers to know exactly where I work, hang out, who i convene with, etc? I sort of flounder back and forth. Also, I feel like saying "no" is silly. After all, it's just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">facebook</span>. See, i flounder even in this blog post.<br /><br />If you read this blog, then you know that this is the year of the yes. So, therefore, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">i'm</span> saying yes. And so, mister Wall Street Journal reporter and mister NY PR guy and miss search engine optimizer expert, fine- we can be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">facebook</span> friends. But please don't stalk me, okay?frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-582906547663458962009-01-06T18:50:00.009-05:002009-01-06T18:58:33.851-05:00Treasure Island Hotel TrovesHotels around the world, listen up. Do you want to win the hearts of geeks, pop culture enthusiasts, music lovers, and pretty much everybody? Sounds beautiful, right? It's easy. Make like Treasure Island in Las Vegas. According to Dave Taylor, who is staying in this little slice of heaven while he's at CES this year, Treasure Island Hotel as Ipod Dock Clock Radios! Don't know about you, but this is enough to make me stay there.<br /><br />This is how i know: <a href="http://twitter.com/DaveTaylor/status/1100627189">http://twitter.com/DaveTaylor/status/1100627189</a>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-53760899493055694532009-01-01T21:38:00.001-05:002009-01-01T21:40:15.749-05:00A Lieberman Family NYE<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4loSI70688UtBDHdF1FROQka-0Q74uT34OkpD1-1a3fHXkxZgYNx8ynBredhExTaFTJ469Xs5obZvlOO3Yw90mcBPxTAbmFHAvqZ12mPxJitV-XIwBigggLPcqM3vEDboEqb_2NGGFvT0/s1600-h/frani+and+sami+new+years.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4loSI70688UtBDHdF1FROQka-0Q74uT34OkpD1-1a3fHXkxZgYNx8ynBredhExTaFTJ469Xs5obZvlOO3Yw90mcBPxTAbmFHAvqZ12mPxJitV-XIwBigggLPcqM3vEDboEqb_2NGGFvT0/s320/frani+and+sami+new+years.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520373831000306" border="0" /></a><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-59041784284136691242009-01-01T21:02:00.006-05:002009-01-01T21:33:57.959-05:00The Year of the Yes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVcrggJ-8xHb3qMC6_Wb_8CDOeD6rhqT6zpa1p1432PfEdRKcHQq59qu7cdJRn-O3dSPrvUhYJbeNNCtY1d-sOAKfeQyFkQ2wiaYWUpeswoCsUqxfjaLE1I8B_yYRVj8F497nOapsbijtE/s1600-h/resolution.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVcrggJ-8xHb3qMC6_Wb_8CDOeD6rhqT6zpa1p1432PfEdRKcHQq59qu7cdJRn-O3dSPrvUhYJbeNNCtY1d-sOAKfeQyFkQ2wiaYWUpeswoCsUqxfjaLE1I8B_yYRVj8F497nOapsbijtE/s320/resolution.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286512670071147874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I've never been big on resolutions, as I'm all for improving all 365 days of the year- or at the very least <span style="font-style: italic;">thinking</span> about the things that ought to be changed (personally, professionally, financially, whatever) more than just once a year. That said, i suppose the New Year is as good of a time as any to resolve for better things. Here's my advice: Make an actual list of resolutions on your favorite paper and with your favorite pen (shameless client plug: Make it a Zebra pen!) and tuck said list into a drawer. When appropriate, check off the things you've resolved to do. You know you've got some self-work to do if you pull out that list on January 1, 2010 for the first time all year. <br /><br />Me? As i said, I don' really list resolutions (i'm pretty positive all year that i need to go to the gym more, make all of those stupid doctor appointments i'm always putting off, get a client on Oprah, learn a language, etc). BUT: I'm looking forward to the year ahead and am content with the closing of 2008. I think i'll say "yes" a lot more this year in all areas. I'm hoping to experience a few new things just by changing my often sneer-filled no to an "okay why not" yes. This is an exciting time to be alive (Obama and the internet and Chuck Norris oh my). I look forward to living as an active participant in all things 2009- my personal year of the yes.frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-25655544172880269802008-12-30T11:09:00.003-05:002008-12-30T11:16:11.908-05:00Writing is to Bleeding as Happiness is to Manchego"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Hemingway<br /><br />that's all. move along. nothing to see here. oh wait, i lied. just finished The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank. Perhaps one of my favorites ever? Or maybe, just a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">relevant</span> time to read about a wise woman's struggles at love and work. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">narration</span> is both quiet and seductive- almost uncomfortable at times but always well-written. One of my favorite lines: "You see yourself through his eyes, as THE GENERIC WOMAN, the skirted symbol on the ladies' room door." In any event, if you're a twenty or thirty-something lady with career aspirations and a penchant for finding the one you actually didn't believe you wanted to find, then this one's for you. I laughed out loud plenty of times. <br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-90590799716810315192008-12-28T22:51:00.001-05:002008-12-28T22:53:45.175-05:00At a Loss for Words<script type="text/javascript"> </script><p class="MsoNormal">For somebody who thrives on finding the best way to articulate ideas, I sometimes can’t even come up with one good thing to say.<span style=""> </span>It’s funny, because success in PR is built on words- written, spoken, implied, words not said.<span style=""> </span>And yet, there are times when I just can’t think of <i>one</i> thing to say.<span style=""> </span>I always know when it’s happening- I almost whimper.<span style=""> </span>There’s a semi-stutter, an audible frustration, and a mini-growl (completely un-lady like).<span style=""> </span>It ultimately ends with “ I don’t know how to articulate this.”<span style=""> </span>It’s not debilitating, show stopping, heart throbbing.<span style=""> </span>It’s muted, but it definitely happens.<span style=""> </span>Writers, full-time speakers, creative brethren, etc. please do tell me how you deal with this.<span style=""> </span>I suppose it’s called a “block.”<span style=""> </span>And so I ask- how do you get those juices flowing again?</p> <script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-43240447519684069022008-12-21T21:26:00.005-05:002008-12-21T21:53:33.288-05:00even suburbs have moments of greatness<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOqAz4dwrSDUv4TTH6E_pbDvmYJxrWiTjUPetiwr0csrRpdIFdW6DxhpoM9rupHidVKkBmSPKyJubEQB4DskO22QpUhy7Swa4YJoXKAyUwmnp_AH8_JeNZEwe3eNbL86nU7V51LlFnwYM/s1600-h/wegmans.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282436567055963922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOqAz4dwrSDUv4TTH6E_pbDvmYJxrWiTjUPetiwr0csrRpdIFdW6DxhpoM9rupHidVKkBmSPKyJubEQB4DskO22QpUhy7Swa4YJoXKAyUwmnp_AH8_JeNZEwe3eNbL86nU7V51LlFnwYM/s200/wegmans.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>If you know me at all, you know the flutter of comfort that washes over me everytime the train pulls into 30th St. Station in Philadelphia (or when the Chinatown bus pulls into 10th and Arch, or greyhound at Filbert- you get the idea). Today, my dad came to pick me up and asked if I minded if we swung by Wegmans to pick up a few groceries (weird but true: my parents' shopping list nowadays consist solely of yogurt, turkey slices, apple sauce, and pita chips). Wegmans really excites me. Not only for the veritable cornucopia of samples (brie with walnuts, crab dip, and organic marinara all in one supermarket fantasy land? yes please), but also because of the fresh produce, passionate employees, and excessive candy isle. It's a wonderland. It doesn't evoke the same feelings as my old Philadelphia apartment on Pine Street- rather- Wegmans produces feelings of a not-so-tragic suburbia. With Gala apples as perfectly pink-red as this, who needs xanex. For all of those soccer moms stuck in various forms of drug-induced happiness, I imagine that Wegmans provides a substance-free wonderland of perfection. Me? I'm just in it for the samples and the delectable cheese and olive bar.<br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br /><br /><br /><br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script></div>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-75723653704632848922008-12-17T21:31:00.006-05:002008-12-18T08:35:46.306-05:00A Tizzy of A Wednesday for the Hacks and the Flacks<span style="font-size:85%;">Three things happened today in PR vs. Blogger world. I'm happy to report all three with a little commentary.<br /><br />1) </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >TechCrunch Calls a Death to the Embargo</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> and says that "PR firms are out of control. Today we are taking a radical step towards fighting the chaos. From this point on we will break every embargo we agree to." Hrrm. Well, okay. I'm not sure why this comes as such a shock, as Arrington and his team are often NOT happy with PR folks and our smarmy practices. That being said, I am all for open and direct communication between PR folks and journalists. TechCrunch, today was very, very clear about how they will proceed and how they'd like to be pitched regarding embargoes (go ahead and send embargoed information, we will break it). The best comment, by far, was made by a PR person who politely asked Arrington how she should be pitching to TC to build a relationship with the writers- to which Arrington replied- Go Away. The link: http://www.techcrunch.com/2008/12/17/death-to-the-embargo/<br /><br />2) </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >John Byrne, editor in chief of BusinessWeek.com, posted all of the BusinessWeek Twitter addresses on his blog. </span><span style="font-size:85%;"> In order to support his "Ideas from BusinessWeek readers" engagement tactic, he said that "a good many of us at BusinessWeek have been having great success and fun with Twitter, the hot micro-blogging site that allows users to blog in 140 characters or less." All I've got to say about this one is great, he gets it. Steve Baker gets it too. Heather Green, she gets it. Twitter is a public forum. If a journalist wishes not to engage, then a journalist doesn't have to engage. It's.that.simple.<br /><br />3) In more hilarious news, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >a flack challenged a journo to a boxing match. </span><span style="font-size:85%;"> According to Gizmodo, this particular event all started with a blogger asked politely to be removed from an email distribution list because they don't cover the products the firm was pitching. Fair enough. Well no, not fair enough according to the firm's president. Go check out the president's response: http://gizmodo.com/5112457/how-not-to-treat-people-when-pitching-them-stories#c9535804. <br /><br />So that's it. Those are the big three from today. I've chosen an exciting career, i tell you. Although the endless blogger vs. pr dramz gets tiring, it certainly reinvigorates open discussion about the present and future of the industry i love so much. For now, i'll just keep doing my job the best I know how. And you know what? i'm willing to learn how to do it better.</span>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-85394553662841764032008-12-14T22:52:00.005-05:002008-12-14T23:04:50.880-05:00confession: interesting people invigorate meSo, I was at a party on Saturday evening and while admittedly indulging on perhaps excessive amounts of charles shaw trader joe's finest, i had an epiphany. Interesting people invigorate me. I met this couple who completely impressed me- not just because they are seemingly perfect together (a meshing of the minds and equal passion for day-to-day life) but because they have a talent. THEY ARE UKULELE PLAYERS! And they are funny! So funny, in fact, that they were recently guests on Dave Attell's The Gong. I just want the world to know how great they are. Oddly enough, I suppose that's why I am in public relations. Discovering something/somebody so interesting and tenaciously urging the world to notice- that's the essence of it all. In any event, below, find a sampling of The War Ponies and also visit their site here: <a href="http://www.dianaalutto.com/Diana_Alutto/The_War_Ponies.html">http://www.dianaalutto.com/Diana_Alutto/The_War_Ponies.html</a>. All of that being said, i'm pretty sure you'll see them popping up in various media soon enough- if anybody can create mainstream demand for the uke, it's these two:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5eODDi4RI8o&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5eODDi4RI8o&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-52467453841437565682008-12-13T12:26:00.002-05:002008-12-14T22:52:08.365-05:00it's more than a cheesesteakAs I sit here, at The Last Drop, in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Philadelphia</span>, a sense of calm sort of reverberates off of me- for this city feels so comfortable to me (like that uber soft tshirt you've had for way too many years). Breakfast at my favorite spot, the pour house, where the the same waiter as last time brings my turkey bacon to the little round table. I walked past both of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">philadelphia</span> apartments I lived in- sort of dreamily gazing for a few moments outside of each. The streets all make sense, and I know just how long it will take me to walk <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">across</span> town. This city evokes a sense of calm in me, and I think it always will. Philadelphia is home.frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-83590841341509222232008-11-20T08:37:00.001-05:002008-11-20T08:42:22.729-05:00a meat market, and not the good kind<script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script><br />Every morning, as I walk to the train, I pass a meat market. I should preface this with the fact that I'm not a vegetarian- I like steak and the rest of the commonly consumed game as much as the next gal... Before I have my coffee, though, the last thing I want to see is a reddish slab of uncooked meat. EW. And next to a pretty little coffee shop? That's just mean. Pumpkin muffins and bleeding prime rib? This does not evoke feelings of warmth. Epic fail.frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-58490948212502008362008-11-13T18:27:00.002-05:002008-11-13T18:32:55.768-05:00you may never actually work againI mean, i'm a cat person. But seriously, who could deny themselves from this small pleasure (A LIVE FEED PUPPYCAM): <a href="http://cdn1.ustream.tv/swf/4/viewer.45.swf?cid=317016">http://cdn1.ustream.tv/swf/4/viewer.45.swf?cid=317016</a><br /><br /><br />In case the link is dead when you get around to reading this, the above is streaming video of six baby Shiba Inus, a Japanese hunting breed. According to Time Magazine, this little stream has generated "nearly 2 million happily distracted views since it was launched just over a month ago".frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-29905919430019792112008-11-10T23:51:00.005-05:002008-11-11T00:04:13.392-05:00Job Opportunities at Go!Animate<script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script><br /><br />Dear readers (all 3 of you):<br /><br />I'm lucky enough to work with www.goanimate.com- an entertainment website that enables the simple creation of unique computer animated stories, satires and sentiments that can be shared with the entire online community. The site offers simple to more advanced innovative features that provide users with a multitude of possibilities for customizing their animations. We will constantly be enhancing and adding features, popular licenses and animations from well known comedians, animators and writers. REALLY cool site and a dream to work on. They are hiring for lots of positions! The most exciting one for you, probably, is the community manager position in New York. Okay, maybe that's just the most exciting position to me. In any event, check out the open positions at the link below... and spread the word! Recession proof? Check. Fun staff? Check. Great office? Check. Exciting opportunity? Check.<br /><br />Here's the link. Even if you're not interested in the position, go make some animations: http://goanimate.com/go/careerfrani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-75713290803791534132008-11-10T18:36:00.004-05:002008-11-10T18:48:52.546-05:00It May Be Years Until the Day<script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-6261671-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br /></script><br />another dinner in the office. le sigh. my work is my boyfriend. my cat is my surly lover who complains when I come home late. streaming radio is my sanity and drug of choice. blogging is my dirty little secret. I know i'm not special. we all work hard, this much i know is true. you know what makes it all worth while? the segment that finally runs on cnbc or the feature story in businessweek (i'm projecting now, but you get it). I think that makes me dorky. I think i'm okay with that. <br /><br />Feist says it best in her song Mushaboom:<br />But in the meantime I've got it hard <br />Second floor living without a yard <br />It may be years until the day <br />My dreams will match up with my payfrani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-21447363549042911312008-11-10T08:43:00.002-05:002008-11-10T09:47:54.720-05:00on the train, again.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8FZCYdiI7kVDEinT94RVj439zy6jNCcVFk2qit8uZaVSJEAoq3NG1Piti_BhSG575MNnRaNvjD8kuTBQ7oxQmXjzkc75HVf63pKtSxxOeC2C3rlMNI1lZPpK5Z5Mp8zJ7L8lj5w5sj3Y/s1600-h/beach7.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8FZCYdiI7kVDEinT94RVj439zy6jNCcVFk2qit8uZaVSJEAoq3NG1Piti_BhSG575MNnRaNvjD8kuTBQ7oxQmXjzkc75HVf63pKtSxxOeC2C3rlMNI1lZPpK5Z5Mp8zJ7L8lj5w5sj3Y/s320/beach7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267040608779517650" /></a><br />I write from the train on a monday morning with the feeling of monotony sitting in my stomach, camped out right next to hunger. Is it age? Innate personality? Is it normal? Sometimes music breaks up the train ride monotony- today, specifically, tales from iron and wine, damien rice, nina simone and their friends ground me to a mentality of the 9-6 (7? 8?) workweek. Often, it is after work activities that add this needed color. Don't get me wrong- work itself is exciting- pleasantly pressure-filled and chock full of opportunity to learn about new things everyday. All of that said, though, it's just not enough. A trip to greece helped... And then skydiving helped...and now an impending trip to chicago (I've never been, please advise) is helping. I suppose I'm just built to wonder "what's next." Believe me, this has got dual implications. I just realized this post may seem like a whine, and I assure you, it's not. Simply an observation- one made every monday morning on the same train, to the same place.frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-27897934643665893732008-10-21T23:40:00.002-04:002008-10-21T23:42:27.150-04:00i'm a bad bloggerbut i think i might make it my new years resolution to be better. i usually don't make those, but i think this is important. so actually, i changed my mind. i resolve to be a better and more frequent blogger before january. how's that for living on the edge?frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-53179460362130023822008-10-07T12:49:00.003-04:002008-11-10T19:20:22.577-05:00Email Goggles: The College Kid's Guide to Drinking and EmailingIs this a joke? Apparantly not. Straight from the "official gmail blog" comes a post entitled New in Labs: Stop sending mail you later regret. <br /><br />From the post:<br />When you enable Mail Goggles, it will check that you're really sure you want to send that late night Friday email. And what better way to check than by making you solve a few simple math problems after you click send to verify you're in the right state of mind?<br /> <br />And a link to the full post:<br />http://gmailblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-in-labs-stop-sending-mail-you-later.html<br /><br />Google, kudos to stopping the world's problems. Economic downturn, who cares. Drunk emails we later regret? SOLVED. If only there was a stop to drunk tweets....frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-32126431164727743362008-08-19T16:50:00.001-04:002008-08-19T16:51:58.203-04:00Greas-ing It Up, Greece StyleHello! I'll be on a 2 week hiatus as I sail the greek seas. my trip begins and ends in Athens and i'll be at a few islands in between. I'll be sure you fill you in on all of the wild times upon my return. be good, internet world.frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-13256095065578511632008-08-15T18:47:00.004-04:002008-08-15T18:59:53.144-04:00Hey Madonna, My Mom Says Not To Worry About Turning 50No, seriously, that's what my mom said. In an Associated Press entertainment story about Madonna's 50th birthday that ran just about everywhere, (Forbes, MSNBC, Philly.com, Salon.com, Yahoo, etc) my mother- Dale Lieberman- was the lead quote for the story. She also happened to be the only non-media person to be quoted. Here's the story:<br /> <br /><br /><a href="http://license.icopyright.net/user/viewContent.act?tag=3.5721%3Ficx_id=D92ISG280">Madonna: An unlikely inspiration for 50-plus set</a> from Associated Press>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-6274130716294865502008-08-14T17:27:00.002-04:002008-08-14T17:28:10.110-04:00i wish i had this problemif i had this problem, i would have created this blog first. incredibly entertaining:<br /><br /><a href="http://theleilatexts.blogspot.com/">http://theleilatexts.blogspot.com/</a>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663315834702649297.post-6364707970448067132008-08-14T15:12:00.008-04:002008-08-14T15:46:43.506-04:00at least you'll know if grandma got run over by a raindeer<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Today, my colleague received an email: “Claire Eisenstein added you as a friend on Facebook”<br /><br />Claire Eisenstein would be her grandmother.<br /></span><br /><a href="http://img366.imageshack.us/my.php?image=dorothywilliams4qm3.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" src="http://img366.imageshack.us/img366/517/dorothywilliams4qm3.th.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a title="QuickPost" href="http://img604.imageshack.us/content.php?page=blogpost&files=img366/517/dorothywilliams4qm3.jpg"><img alt="QuickPost" src="http://imageshack.us/img/butansn.png" border="0" /></a> Quickpost this image to Myspace, Digg, Facebook, and others!<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span>frani liebermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16669622688500277081noreply@blogger.com0