Beyond Her
beyond her  
                 
         
  Beyond Her Productions
1736 Nicholson St
Houston, TX 77008
713-863-1241
paule@beyondher.com
6/5/2008 
Beyond Her Goes Haute, er Hot 
   
  Man, summer arrived with a bang! It's 83 degrees here at night, which makes it look like a long hot summer.

We keep saying we're "trying to quit" doing art shows, but sometimes we just can't help it. In June we'll be at the Yale Street Market (aka First Saturday and "that Heights show") for summer hours, 6-10 p.m. Always a fun event, and we'll be there, glowing.

19th Street & Lawrence

www.yalestreetmarket.com

The other thing we can't quit doing? Adding products, even though that doesn't seem to be the smartest business move. We came up with some cool new candles and a new canvas bag for our beach card series - perfect to carry lotions and potions to the pool!  

    
       
5/14/2008 
The Big Move 
   
  Some of you know that Beyond Her has moved a couple of times in the past year. More later, but here's the concept of the new digs -- "faux" warehouse is about as far as we got.

Please note new address for Beyond Her, although phone numbers and emails stayed the same. Change is in the air! 

    
       
2/5/2008 
My Valentine - A New Thought from Beyond 
   
  People have asked me when I would start writing more of, "you know, your funny columns." I wondered where I'd get the time. Somehow it appeared just in time for Valentine's Day, so this is my gift to all of us who love laughing. 

    
       
2/4/2008 
Hung Up  
   
  We had a good thing going, once, with telephones. They were stuck to our walls, they had long stretchy cords that helped us find the receiver, and people actually answered them. So we had conversations.

But that was before. Today, more than anything, telephones have become the technology we use to ask questions about other forms of technology.

For example: we might have a question about our new home theater sound system (specifically, "Why is there no sound coming out?") Or we might be curious about why our last cell phone bill shows we owe $1,845. For one month. Things like that.

For many of us, telephoning becomes the problem-solving method of choice only after searching for help on a company website. After 45 minutes, we think, "Surely, it would be faster to pick up the phone."

The funny thing is, it's not. The other funny thing is that when companies do list a phone number, it's usually under the heading, "Customer Service." In fact, this is downright hilarious, since "service" is really not part of a typical phone experience.

Which starts like this: You dial the number and are greeted by a broadcast-quality voice that welcomes you (heartily!) and invites you to either press numbers or declare your choices to several possible options.

Well, here is where I encounter my first problem. The numbers we must punch are on the receiver, so there's quite a complex routine involved in listening, finding the right numbers, listening again, punching again -- back and forth until my tennis elbow starts acting up.

The other choice is to feel like a jackass shouting TECHNICAL!!!! QUESTION!!!! into the phone.

Second, my question NEVER seems to match up to the options on the menu. I'm usually somewhere between options 2 and 3. I think they make the choices purposely obtuse and irrelevant. Say, for instance, I have a billing issue: what I usually hear is "Press 2 if you would like to speak to a NASA scientist."

If I have a technical question my choices are to get directions, learn how to discontinue service or hear about this month's specials.

While pondering where I fit into their set of options, I am often cut off and sent back to the hearty voice at the beginning. I guess the real message is, "If you can't think any faster than this, you deserve an $1,800 cell phone bill.

And even if you do somehow answer correctly, you can't assume you'll have a conversation with a real person. You simply advance to the next round of option-choosing.

Once again, you can choose correctly (and quickly!), or go back to the main menu and start over. It's an endless loop -- the nine rings of telephone hell.

And here is our reward for punching our way to the highest level (think of this as a video game): A young-sounding man who, after an introduction about equal in length to the Gettysburg Address, comes on the line. His name, for all intents and purposes, is "Jason."

At this point, Jason and I both I encounter another little barrier -- which is that I have a tiny, specific question that must be prefaced by about 45 minutes of personal history before I can ask it.

I swear I hear Jason's eyes rolling as I go through the agonizing details. No doubt, he's playing on his x-box, annihilating virtual customers. At the end of my tale, he'll say, "Hmm. Let's take a look at your records." (This clearly has not occurred to him up until now) "Can you tell me your personal ID code?"

My. Personal. ID. Code. Let's see I have about 12 variations of the same one, mostly depending how many digits are required and/or how many glasses of wine I had before I got on-line.

What strikes me as funny is how they say this password is necessary to protect my identity. The question is, why would anyone want my identity -- coming, as it does, with an $1800 cell phone bill?

During these experiences I've learned to settle for a half-answer to whatever my question was. These people have a script, and most often, my problem is just not in it. And this is where you really get into trouble -- when they get off the script. Then you just become an annoying hairball in Jason's personal universe. My advice, when you feel the conversation veering off-course, is to ask for a supervisor and settle in for a long night. Because it won't be any easier tomorrow, with the next "Jason."

Here is what I love though. I love it when Jason, after a rather contentious and useless conversation, signals his complete disinterest in our encounter by asking, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

And what I always like to say is, "Yes, Jason, there is. I'd like you to cut my bill in half." (I read about someone whose response is always, "I'd like you to get Bush out of the White House" Good one.!). Sometimes "Jason" snorts (telephone hell humor), but one time I heard a keyboard clicking and he said, "I can do that for you, Mrs. Hewlett." (!) This was interesting, since he hadn't done anything for me up until then.

Once in a while, you might have a phone encounter of the original kind -- a connection with a real person who can actually help. She (or he) might listen to your problem. Feel your pain.

During the early Internet days, my friend was counseled by an earnest computer support person who was clearly uncomfortable with my friend's high emotional state. He said, "M'am, I think can help you. But I'm going to have to ask you to stop crying."

And these are the experiences that keep us going, until the next month's bill comes, or the next time the home theater is broadcasting exclusively in Vietnamese.

Then it'sback to the phone, and our on-again, off-again relationship with the ubiquitous "Jason."

In today's world, we all need a little Help Desk to get by.  

    
       
1/8/2008 
Now That It's Over 
   
  The holidays have always wiped me out. Just like me to start a business that gets into high gear starting in October -- and simply adds to the frenzy. With holiday shows, holiday products, holiday shipping, holiday shortages, my family no longer acts surprised when I ask for the umpteenth time, "Can't we just skip Christmas this year?"
This is usually the time of year when we run away to Mexico to decompress. I'm supposed to paint, but I usually start out doing nothing, and do less every day. I get into one position - horizontal --and stay there. Not this year, though. We're still trying to find a home for ourselves and for Beyond Her. Stay tuned.
Thanks to all of you for your support during the best Beyond Her season ever. I'm heartened by the number of you that have managed to track me down after a move, several email changes, etc. etc. Your loyalty amazes me.
Plans for 2008: Go the wholesale route, which means revamping what passes for a "system" in my personal mode of business. I have lots of ideas for new products, but they'll have to wait until . . . well, later. It's all very exciting.
Best of everything to everyone in this next year. Keep sending cards and letters, using BH stationery, of course!
XOXO, Paule  

    
       
10/29/2007 
My First Blog 
   
 
When the Internet was new, and we were all just trying to figure out how it worked – conceptually and literally (“I mean, where IS the Internet?”) – I consulted with one of my few knowledgeable acquaintances about setting up an, um, email account. He advised me, then ventured that I might be interested in having a website.
“Hah!” I barked. “I don’t know much, but one thing I do know is that I will never, ever, need a website.”
And here we are.
As of this posting, I’m a blogmeister. It all makes sense. I am, in my real life, a freelance writer. I have a series of essays that are really all about the Beyond Her world view (see the “Her Words” section of this ever-expanding website).
Here, however, is where I hope to chronicle the real-life Adventures of the Beyond Her product line. We have come a long way since I copied my calendars at Kinko’s – but there is still a long way to go.
2008 I hope to make a breakthrough year for Beyond Her, into the wholesale world. If you think the Houston Nutcracker Market is huge, imagine the Atlanta market – three 10-plus story buildings, all full of booths, all full of GIFTS!!!!!!! FLOWERS!!!! STUFF!!!!!
I’ll keep you posted on what’s new and wonderful, as well as Beyond Her experiences. 
Think of it as the Beyond Her reality show. Raw. Unedited. Stay tuned.
 
And now, just for nostalgia’s sake, where it all began

 
The Story of Beyond Her
 
Once upon a time there was a girl who stayed slightly confused, and slightly amused, by the way things work.
“It’s beyond me,” she would sigh. Then she would go back to her paints.
She thought she would understand more as she got older, but she actually understood less. At the age where she expected to be truly wise, it seemed like everything was beyond her understanding.
So she went back to her paints, where she found everyday objects that were beautiful. And meaningful. In a very simple way. 
Things started to click. She painted more and analyzed less.
It’s not that things got any clearer. She simply had a view above and beyond.