Apparently, our drugs are good for you?

Hi-de-hi campers!

So, I am learning from the two short weeks that I have been here in the US, that yanks luuuurve meetings. I mean they LUUURVE them. I have never been invited to so many in my entire (albeit diminutive) working life. Meetings to brainstorm, meetings to discuss the brainstorm, meetings about meetings, meetings where they set up more meetings. It's insane. But I am also learning that Americans are ridiculously articulate. Well, the ones I work with anyway.

I've always thought that (when not in one of my many rioja-induced hazes) I was a relatively eloquent speaker; no Stephen Fry, but at the same time no Wayne Rooney. Turns out that, in this office: I'm actually a blathering nitwit. Perhaps it's because I'm still finding my feet here, not just in the US but also in the field of pharmaceutical marketing. I tell you what - there is a reason the UK does not advertise prescription drugs, and now I know why. It's a veritable smorgasbord of rules and limitations: how not to structure your website, what you should NEVER do, what you can SOMETIMES do, the endless ways in which the FDA says you could detract from ISIs and PIs (Important Safety Information and Prescribing Information) by using the wrong colour or a graphic that's too animated. It's so overwhelming and complicated I have begun to feel like the best way to deal with a particularly difficult client brief would be to lodge a bullet in my cranium. The only thing to reassure me that life is worth living is the chocolate and sweetie basket on the reception desk, although most of the time it's full of Hershey's, which I maintain is basically the reformed and reshaped contents of a dog's bowel (rather comically, Blink 182's 'I Wanna Fuck a Dog in the Ass' just started on iTunes).

Anyway, my tangential ramblings are rather appropriate given that I can't seem to be able to articulate my thoughts in a manner any more sophisticated than would a 2 year old. I think my problems are two-fold: 1) The lingo is ridiculously hard to pick up - especially after only two weeks (the endless acronyms on their own would warrant hours of memorisation) and 2) I have absolutely no idea about pharma marketing, as it's (literally) a foreign concept to me. The same can be said of the exploding hot can of crazy they call their healthcare system. It's so fucked it's unbelievable. Essentially if you don't have a job in the US - you have no healthcare insurance whatsoever. Another win (aside from better chocolate) for the Brits on that front; as the NHS may not be glamorous but at least it gets the job done and we don't have to worry about astronomical medical bills after we've been treated. Let's hope B'Obama sorts that out if he's re-elected.

But ANYWAY. Rant over. In other news YET MORE crazies have been flying about like bees round the proverbial honey pot (i.e. me). I thought I had dropped my Smartrip card at the bus stop yesterday and the (yes, black) man at the stop said "Don't worry ma'am (WHEN DID I BECOME A MA'AM?!) you haven't dropped nothin'." I pretended to ignore the double negative and continued to scrabble around in my ill-advised cavernous handbag for the bastard thing while this man continued to attempt to engage me in conversation. Clearly he did not pick up on my signals, instead clocking my accent and asking me if I was from London, coming to sit next to me on the bus and launching into a story about how he has never visited London and would love to show me around DC. He then continued on to the merits of cricket versus American football and the crazy weather we've been having. I was less than enthused and spent most of the conversation frantically working out a way to get out of it politely, especially since his breath smelt like he had recently ingested a rabid cat. Turns out; there is no polite way, so I was shackled into this conversation for the long-haul.

So basically what I learnt from this not-so-brief encounter was that his name was Henri ("with an i!"), he claimed to be a theatre teacher, invited me to come and watch a production of Macbeth he was 'directing' and tried to take my phone number. I managed to tell the truth and say I didn't have a US number yet but he still insisted I take his. Sigh. There's a number I won't be calling. Why is it never an attractive doctor or sexy musician that strikes up a conversation? Why the creepy middle-aged drama teachers? Perhaps that is my lot in life and I must accept it.

Anywho, long Memorial Day weekend to look forward to now. And a certain Frisky Chick is winging her way into town! Happy days! I'm off to celebrate like a cool kid with a hot chocolate.

C xx