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Rachelle Mandik
Works at Rachelle Mandik
Attended Georgetown University
Lives in New York City
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Rachelle Mandik

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Along the Mekong, Luang Prabang, Laos, October 2010 #travelthursday
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nice
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Rachelle Mandik

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So I've been sick. Really, really sick. The kind of sick where you're certain there's a way-more-than-nonzero probability that you will die. The kind that comes with pain and hallucinations. I'm much better now, but I'm still grappling with the aftermath of having been that ill. It seems both near and remote now. And while most of it was terrible, there was a highlight.

While in the grips of the fever, one of my hallucinations was that my face was a nostalgia jukebox. That if I pressed certain areas of my face (which I was doing anyway, to try to alleviate even the smallest bit of the pain in my head), it would access a long-lost memory. There was no doubt as to the truth of this proposition. My face became a nostalgia jukebox.

I uncovered some of the most amazing memories! One of them, unsurprisingly, was about being sick. The memory was the singular taste and feel of my favorite cough drop from when I was a kid. They were called Pine Bros. and they were honey flavored and chewy. And definitely, definitely not medicinal in any way. Not like those nasty Sucrets things that I was sure were made of gasoline and that my nana seemed to have knocking around in their tin coffins in her purse. No! Sweet! And Chewy! The kind of chewy where if you bite down on it you panic that you will never successfully unstick your teeth and will have to talk like a rich person forever. Actually it's quite false to say they were honey flavored. They were honey-ideated. The way Fruit Stripes gum is fruit-ideated. There's a Matrix quality to the experience of tasting these things. The concept is strong enough to give you most of an experience but the substance itself doesn't comply. The box says honey on it, so you went along with it, but they mostly tasted like glycerine and half-forgotten things. Things you won't remember you want to remember until much, much later. They had the word "PINE" in raised letters on the top and I would love to run my tongue along the word and contemplate the oddity of how words don't taste like the things they describe.

So there I was, having this amazing memory, and I wanted some. Right away. I wondered if they still existed. So I started poking around on the Internet to find out. The first few sites I read gutted me: They hadn't been produced in years. People were lamenting their lost childhoods. Boxes of possibly petrified drops were selling on eBay for ridiculous sums. So I decided I would be happy enough just to see a picture of them, and did a Google image search. And I saw the strangest thing.

New packaging! Little pucklike disks imprinted with the glorious words "Pine Bros." and "Honey." And I went from despair to elation. They're back! And now that I'm well enough to go outside, I am going to get some. And if I'm really feeling better, maybe I'll bite down and panic. This time just for fun.
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I hope you are well now.
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Rachelle Mandik

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"First you don't get it. Then you get it. Then you can't un- get it." (Wish I knew who to credit. It was linked without commentary on my FB.)

*Update: Print ads for LEGO by German agency Jung von Matt
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very interesting. Either I'm still just failing to click on whatever is going on here, or I've got some kind of recognition deficit. Not even a glimmer of recognition. Don't say anything, I'll keep staring at them.
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Rachelle Mandik

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I take photos of people asleep in public. Here is one from today.
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Rachelle Mandik

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Personal content ahead (long). Someone on my stream posted a story yesterday about online retailers using certain algorithms to determine whether their female customers might be expecting a baby. It thoroughly creeped me out, but more than that, it made me furious.

I'd gotten this e-mail (screenshot below) just a few days ago from a website where I'd purchased a new travel bag for our dog for our upcoming plane trip. I'm a mom (a dog mom), but I do not have a baby. I pretty much can't have a baby without an entire team of scientists helping out, which I've yet to actually try, because I don't want to fail. In a way it's easier to feel unlucky than to feel doomed.

But this insidious marketing thing makes me more upset than I can even say. I refuse to buy anything else from a company that engages in this awful practice, and I'm at the point where I'm loath to buy anything from anyone online ever again if this is what it leads to.

About a month ago I got a catalog out of the blue for some other baby thing. I don't know where these people get my information or why they are so sure I am breeding, but I called the company that sent me the catalog and cried. Sloppy, breathless crying about how they ruined my day by sending me a baby-stuff catalog when I'm infertile, and how they must never, ever send me anything ever again. How I now had to rush to my therapist and had to take the day off of work to deal with the trauma. All lies. Well, all except the infertility part. And the real underlying sadness.

But is that kind of emotional terrorism effective beyond making me feel better? Will it get them to stop? Also, is that really all I can do now with my theatre background?

Anybody in marketing or advertising want to comment?
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No one's trying to sell you a flying car because no one's figured out how to make any money off it.
That's what depresses me about stories in this vein: no matter how much you and I disapprove of it, Target has been putting money behind this practice because it's making money for them.
If my favorite brand of chips is no longer available at the grocery store (or my favorite publishing house goes out of business, even), it's because my personal preferences have been weighed against that of the majority, and my purchasing power has been found wanting.
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Rachelle Mandik

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Amazing! Another Google Street View art project. I want to know more about the artist's process of image gathering. It's obvious what kinds of manipulations he performs on the photos, but how does one find these gems in all that noise?
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Have her in circles
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Rachelle Mandik

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#windowwednesday Finally starting to edit my photos from SE Asia, 2010. This from the train between Bangkok and Chiang Mai.
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beutyfull
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Rachelle Mandik

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Even my cello case has a face.
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Photo of the day
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Wow! that make me like the shot even more. But where is your rebel spirit jump that damn fence.
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Rachelle Mandik

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Please?
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Where did they learn those positions?
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Two of my cameras have faces too. This one's sad because he hasn't eaten in years.
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Have her in circles
440 people
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xaris asos's profile photo
Asad Khan's profile photo
Pete Mandik's profile photo
Work
Occupation
Book publishing
Employment
  • Rachelle Mandik
    Copyeditor Extraordinaire, 2001 - present
  • Random House
    Senior Production Editor, 2007 - 2011
  • Hyperion
    Senior Production Editor, 2005 - 2007
  • Penguin Group
    Production Editor, 2003 - 2005
  • Simon & Schuster
    Assistant Production Editor, 2000 - 2003
Places
Map of the places this user has livedMap of the places this user has livedMap of the places this user has lived
Currently
New York City
Previously
South Windsor, CT - Chicago, IL - Oberlin, OH - London, UK - Los Angeles, CA
Story
Tagline
"Pretty much what would happen if you crossed Lynne Truss with Morena Baccarin." -Anonymous Author
Introduction
You know Avril Mondragon from Infinite Jest? Well I'm not that bad as far as militant grammarians go. And also not that tall. Or that old. And probably also not that hot. I'm a freelance copyeditor in New York City. I'm passionate about words and language, but also photography, crafts, cold-weather travel, pets, cookery, science, technology, music, and ephemera. Share fun and weird things with me. I promise not to copyedit your posts or your comments.
Bragging rights
I'm John Hodgman's copyeditor, for example.
Education
  • Georgetown University
    Cultural Studies, 1999 - 2001
  • Oberlin College
    English, 1996 - 1998
  • Northwestern University
    Theatre, 1994 - 1996
Basic Information
Gender
Female
Relationship
Married
Other names
née Nashner