Me: I’m writing a bo! People: Where do you get the TIME? Me: Every morning! People: WHERE DO YOU GET THE TIIIIIMMEEEEEEE?! Me: It’s in my schedule. Every morning, from 5am to 8am. People: But I could never cooooommmmmiiiiiittttttt to thaaaaatttttttt. Me: So what do you do when you have a client that needs something, or your boss? People: I do it on their time. Me: So do I. People: Huh? Me: I AM the client. This is a conversation
Please, I Beg You, Get a Niche. (No Matter Which Way You Pronounce That Irritating Word.)
Most annoying word ever: Niche. Come on, say it with me now. Nicheeeeeeeee. Oh wait, what’s that? You don’t know if it’s pronounced NIT-ch like an angry German or NEE-sh like a snobby Frenchman? That’s ay, neither does anybody else. DON’T LET THEM FOOL YOU. Kind of like how nobody actually knows how to pronounce GIF any. What in the mother loving christ? What in the world is happening here? Then again, I suppose a population of people who spend
The 140 Character Email: An Experiment in Sanity
You know the e. The one you’re dreading responding to—not because of what it says, but because the second you open it, all you see is lurching at your face as if the sender had taken the entire Sunday edition of The New York Times, reformatted it into one column, ed it off onto a roll of 1992 perforated computer paper, and then laughed as they lit it on fire and dropped it off at your digital doorstep—aka, your inbox—before
Email Is a Disease (And Why My New Email Policy Is Going to Piss the World Off)
The most dangerous threat you’ll ever face in business is yourself. You’ll be too nice when you should be firm. You’ll be too lax when you should be discipd. You’ll drink too much wine when you should drink water. *los around room innocently* Andddddd, not to bring it up (ay, fine, I’M BRINGING IT UP) you will answer every last e that does a cannonball into your inbox…when you should be answering to yourself. A few years ago when I
The Real Trick to Brilliant Writing
You know what makes for brilliant writing? Not what you say, but the way you say it. The execution. The way you jockey your message onto a page. There are 354 different ways to tell any story. (Exact figure, give or take a few thousand or so.) You can start at the beginning, or you can start at the end. You can speak from your perspective, or you can speak from theirs. You can write long, detailed sausage-stuffed paragraphs, or
When You’re Suffering, Do It Anyway. And Let NOTHING Stop You.
“I’m sorry I bailed on you,” the neatly folded note began. It was 2013. I am at a retreat, and this was the note I received from a fellow participant; a ly woman in her early 30’s with whom I had made Friday night dinner plans. I had waited for an hour in the lobby, my black jeans tucked into my chunk heeled, cream-colored leather ankle booties. I wasn’t in a hurry; I’m never in a hurry. I just assumed
Turns Out, You *Can’t* Do it All—So How Do You Pick?
You know who’s funny? People who try to do everything. Talk about a dysfunctional relationship with time. Contrary to popular opinion, time is not always there for you when you need it. Yet, then you are all cute, telling yourself you’ll just “fit it in”—whatever “it” might be that day. Why does everyone think they’ll fit it in? Nobody ever fits it in. You know what you fit in? About two or three things a day, max. That’s it. That’s the limit. Even
Starting a Sentence With “In My Opinion” is Bad for Business. Here’s Why.
Let me ask you something. If suddenly the building you’re in burst into gigantic, explosive flames, who would you follow to safety? The guy standing meekly by the exit whispering, “I think it’s this way, you guys?” or the guy who booms in a calm, confident, steady, self-assured voice, “THIS WAY.” (Sorry, ladies, following Vin Diesel is not an option.) As humans, we instinctually crave this kind of confidence. We want to feel confident, too, so naturally, we’re drawn to it.
How to Market an Unsexy Product, Become #1 On TripAdvisor & Quadruple Your Profits
I hate fish. Don’t eat it. Don’t like it. And definitely don’t want to smell like it. This is why I never understood why the fish gods picked ME to get even with. Because they did, those fish gods. They wanted a human to torture, and they picked this one. The girl who would never hurt a fly fish. They cursed me, alright. It all started in 1994 when my dad forced me to put on a giant pair of
The Internet Is Some Trippy Shit (And Also Maybe The Key to Business AND World Peace?)
The internet is some trippy shit, isn’t it? You’re sitting here reading this, and you don’t even know me. But it feels like you do, doesn’t it? I get that a lot. In fact, one of the most common es I get about anything I write is always, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD,” which sort of makes me sound like some kind of psychic creeper internet alien. Except I don’t believe in psychics and I’m only a creeper when somebody gets
When You’re Running Around Like a Frizzy-Haired, Obessive-Compulsive Psychopath
Nobody gets between me and my business. Nobody. Not even that shit bottle of wine from the night before. It could be Saturday. It could be Easter morning. It could be raining REALLY BIG MUSCLY MEN for all I care, but one thing is certain: I will be the most discipd person in the room, and I will get it done. I’m like a military sergeant when it comes to execution. (Not that kind of execution.) I don’t tolerate excuses from
How to Sell a $250,000 Diamond Ring
You know how when you want to sound professional on the phone, you do that thing where you clear your throat, steady your voice, and then inevitably start talking THREE OCTAVES HIGHER in that sickening sweet, Southern-Belle-esque manner, almost as if you were speaking to a priest, or maybe the sheriff, all while using words like “extrapolated” and “decisive” and pacing around your living room hoping they have no idea you actually just had wine and DOES HAVING WINE IN THE
Making Money is Not as Hard as Most People Make It
There is a distinct and profound difference between people who make money and people who don’t: The money. Hard, cold, icious, beautiful bendy stacks of cash. I know there are a lot of people that say money is evil and your nostril hairs will catch on fire if you want anything other than world peace, but usually those people are the ones who aren’t very good at making it. Let me tell you a little something about money: There is
To Have a Routine or Not to Have a Routine: That is the (Worst, Most Annoying, Head-Pounding) Business Question
At 5am, I write. Around 11am I go for a jog. I never eat the skin on a chicken. And on Sundays, after a morning fuck, I do my accounting. I used to think that habit & routine were for the birds. I used to think that doing certain things a certain way all the time was the equivalent of jail. I used to think that predictable was for boring people, and methodical for the scared. Scared of life. Scared
When You’re Scrappy, You Don’t Give a Sh*t
I like the term scrappy. I’ve always pictured some femme fatale bobbing and weaving and diving and into any number of ways to get the one and only job done that she’s there to do: Win. It reminds me of my favorite Will Smith quote (oh, you don’t have a favorite Will Smith quote?) “The only thing that I see distinctly different about me is I’m not afraid to die on a treadmill. I will not be out worked, period. You might
How to Make a Hard Decision (Without Convulsing, Crying or Going Crazy)
A lot of disgusting things happen when you’re a human. (And I’m not talking about chin hairs, though they definitely qualify.) And some of those things will require you, at some point, to make some really hard decisions. The kind of decisions that feel impossible to make. The kind that drag race through your large intestine. The kind that cause you to reconsider your position on Xanax. (Right after you learned it was sneakily spelled with an X.) A lot
Entrepreneurs: When your life is fantastic and fucked up, all at once.
You know when you have a problem? When you own EIN numbers than you do You know? It’s like—what are you doing with your life? Here you are, coin’ up business plans, when you know what you really ought to be coing? LUNCH. Because let’s face it: Just who is Paula Dean and what has she put in my meatball? Entrepreneurs are funny. You know how you know when you’re a real entrepreneur? When you actually like the torture. You
Moron Shoes With Holes In Them: What Makes Somebody Buy Something…Or Not?
You know those little moron shoes with the holes in them? Those plastic clog loing things that lo like the most repulsive foot trend known to man? I’ve always been shocked those shoes gained any footing in the marketplace. *Insert shit-eating grin* But, really. If you’re spending good money to put this neon green bucket on your foot, for example, they must be doing something right. (Though I have a very hard time believing this trend would have ever caught
SWEATY ARMPIT ALERT: 67% of the people that were about to give you money…don’t.
Ever think you’ve got Alzheimer’s, or am I the only asshole running around forgetting the word “lollipop?” Let me tell you, there’s nothing worse than forgetting the word “lollipop” in front of a stranger. It’s not like it’s some academic word one could be forgiven for forgetting, like idiosyncrasy—which I feel like is forgivable. I mean, nobody’s running around saying that word five times a day. But when you’re in the middle of a riveting conversation about the United States
DROP THE FLOWERS RIGHT THERE: Six Original Mother’s Day Gifts for Moms Who Are Business Owners
If you get your mother yet another boring bouquet of flowers for Mother’s Day, I swear to god I’m going to reach across that screen, type the phrase “original Mother’s Day gifts” onto your keyboard for you, and force you to pony up a thoughtful idea. I feel like this is one of those holidays where moms worldwide are (secretly) mass-rolling their eyes and smiling over and over and over again, like a giant army of sullen Stepford Wives, every time
What You Are Selling is Never as Important as THE REASON SOMEONE IS BUYING IT
Lo, old stuff grosses me out. I don’t care how cute that sooty old vintage peacoat is—the idea of placing moth-ball flavored material against my body that’s previously had armpit fluid secreted onto it by other humans doesn’t do it for me. It just doesn’t. Somebody spear an arrow through my heart for heresy. I KNOW. So this is why I was horrified to find myself uncontrollably walking right into this god damn little vintage shop in Frederick, Maryland last week. WHAT ARE
Ass-Scratching Business Conundrum: Is It Worth It to Go Out of Your Way…Or Not?
You know what’s really messed up? Internet connections. Here we are building these creepy little awesome robots that get injected INSIDE YOUR BODY to cure cancer….making camouflage suits inspired by the octopus that automatically read their environment and adapt to mimic their surroundings, and coming out with wireless electricity, for the of Edison…but you think I can get G to load? Forget it. I’m pretty sure I have an internet curse. No matter where I go in the world,
The Internet Has Boundary Issues, and People Are Assholes. So What?
So I block this girl on the other day. Actually, it wasn’t so much a block as it was a ban (if only I could do this to people in real life?) because Little Miss Hot Pants thought she would be cute and tell me how much of a shithead I am on the TMF page. Granted, I am a shithead – especially if there’s no cream for the coffee – but that doesn’t mean I need to
Remember When Life Was Easy? BECAUSE APPARENTLY I DON’T.
I used to know how to dress myself. Or at least, I used to know how to put on pants before putting on my shoes, because apparently when you make the decision to PUT A SHOE WITH A GIGANTIC SPIKE on your foot before you put your pants on, you spear a giant hole right through your pant leg. Remember when life was easy? Because I don’t. Because this is just one example of how I’m old now. And ain’t
Overalls and Ball Games, Twelve Packs & Venison: Overcoming an Economic Depression with Dignity
I grew up in the greatest place on earth for exploring. There were stone quarries. Wide open fields. Farm boy boyfriends. And, than anything, nice fucking people. (Novel, right?) People who held doors, people who smiled back, people who waved at each other as they passed in their cars, and people who formed a community that, whether they realized it or not, were really like one big old family. Kind of like the mafia, but with less guns. (Unless it was the first
Two Gorgeous Ways of Saying NO in Business…Without Throwing Cheeseburgers at People’s Heads
Boundaries in business are important. I’m obsessed with them. I talk about boundaries a lot. Probably because when I was young, I was very, very horrible at setting them. Girlfriends would nag me into doing whatever dumb thing they wanted me to do that weekend, like crochet. Or sneak out bedroom windows at 1 o’clock in the morning to go meet cute boys next door who wanted us to take off our shirts. I actually have a diary entry where
One word might be costing you thousands of dollars. What is it?
“What do you own?” he asked her. “I own lots of things,” she replied, before going on to stumble through a list: Her car, her favorite Gucci purse, a timeshare in Mexico, her 300,000 count Egyptian cotton bedsheets. “No you don’t,” he said calmly. “Yes I–” she started. “You don’t own any of those things, because someday, all those things will be gone,” he said. She squirmed in her seat. “The only thing you own,” he said, “is the one thing