The Journey of a Broken Hard Drive

The journey of Blackie, the small but powerful external hard drive, begins in Los Angeles. He has traveled to distant places within LA, making friends with several different computers, oddly all of them named Mack. He was happy that his 320 gigs of capacity was only being used minimally.

It was a Sunday morning and Blackie had been acting up, refusing to play with his two of his friends. Soon after turning his back on Mack(s), he took his gigs and went home to pout.

His owner sent him away to Utah for therapy. There wasn’t anything that therapist could help them with, so he was returned to Los Angeles, where another therapist was commissioned to help. The new therapist was unable to help the depressed, run down Blackie, but his owner refused to give up on him.

Someone had suggested that putting Blackie in the freezer might help him give up his data better. So into the cold air he was sent, for over 2 hours, shivering, shaking, but still staying strong in his conviction to keep the data to himself.

Soon after this, Blackie was taken to one of the biggest therapy centers for more diagnosis and it was there that some hope had been instilled. There was a special facility in Santa Monica that was almost guaranteed to help. Blackie’s owner made one last phone call, and found out the fate of poor Blackie had already been set. The Santa Monica facility was no longer open and there was no hope.

In the end, Blackie just quit, and his owner finally gave up trying to revive him. He sits, broken and damaged, on a desk in his original home of Los Angeles, unable to function and ignored as his owner begins to recreate the 10 gigs of data he refused to give back.

ABUYS

Alwyays. Back. Up. Your. Shit (Stuff).

Once again I find myself on the receiving end of being a dipshit and not backing up my files.

This is just a gentle reminder to myself, and anyone who chooses to read this.

Never, never be so lazy that you rely on one copy of your files.

End Public Service Announcement.

Being In On The Joke

One of the benefits of being a designer is getting to be "in" on the jokes and little nuances of the design world. Like, being able to laugh out loud at the following t-shirt:



Being a designer is perky.

Logopalooza

Sometimes you just have to go with your first instinct when it comes to branding yourself. Over one weekend, I spent 72 hours (OK not all 72 but most of it) working on creating the right logo for myself. I went through all my fonts, all the fonts on dafont.com, searched countless databases for inspiration and drove myself crazy trying to come up with just "who" Stacy Phay is.

After all that time, struggle and research, I finally gave in to what I had known all along. I am Bickman Script Pro and its glorious glyphs. The font is permanently tattooed on my skin. How could I be anything else?

So there you have it. Go with your gut. Sometimes it is OK to stay with your zone. The result is the pretty nifty logo below.