June 03, 2006
can't even find his own nose
cause it's stuck deep
inside her ear
If she's a nose thief
he can't see it
doesn't think it's gross that
she's givin' herself a tracheotomy
with her own index finger
when a man loves a woman
he don't see her two sets of teeth
waiting to bite out
his adam's apple
Tracheotomy biting white eyed woman
single and wicked for stealing noses
no place for her to get a single man
unless he has some spare parts...
When a man loves a woman
Deep down in his inbox
She can bring him such misery
If she extracts her own duodenum
He's the last one to know
Cause she took his eyeballs too.
mmmmm mmm mmm
catchy though, isn't it?
I was thinking of a REALLY BIG prize for the first person to accept my challenge re: SYO, SYOPML, OPIEML, OATMEAL.
Alas, no one won the prize because THERE AREN'T ANY. There will be though. And he will choose them. And you will let him.
Or maybe is why (from McD in comments):
FYI: When you download the OPML Editor and install Dave's newRiver aggregator you get Arrington's, Scoble's and Dave's blogs as defaults... when you export the OPML and upload it to "Share Your OPML" they each get another reader in their stats.
Same as it ever was... gaming the stats. Arrington reviewed the site twice... he loves the site in the second review and thinks it could really help the "long tail". FYI: He's not Dave' best buddy... He's the lawyer that brokered the $2.15M deal to sell Dave's struggling weblogs.com "blog ping service" to Verisign. The site that fell over the last time Dave asked for the possee to support him.
Oh yah, I vaguely remember that. That's when another of Dave's one-time-friend took the fall for him. Same guy says he wouldn't do that again. Like, ever.
But Dave's so nice!
Next Week's Killer App: Share Your Privilege (SYP).
There's more news in the job-change department. Like hamsters to a wheel, these are the days of our lives.
And fittingly, it appears I've been promoted!
It all started innocently enough. I began my inserting rapid, if not useful and timely, links within a chat I was having with one of the top 50 business thinkers in the world (number 47 I think) when I began to pre-link (that's when you send someone a link before they know they need it) with such skill and adroitness that it could hardly go unnoticed.
In fact, that particular talent is said to have inspired my promotion to Social Director of the Internet. (The whole thing, yes.)
Some might say the Internet doesn't need a social director. Well sure it does! Some might wonder, what the hell does that job description look like? It's long! Some may wonder, says who? I'm certified! Some may ask themselves, my god, how did i get here?
Let's be perfectly clear about this: you're either for the Internet or your against it. You have to take a stand. No one is safe. We have a common enemy. If we aren't fighting them there, then we're fighting them over here. And in the war on not being safe, I'm the right woman for the job.
whoa. got carried away.
So, on that note, you may all go home.
That's right, I'm closing the place for the weekend. Lights out. Air Conditioning goes off at 8 a.m. Your card for the parking garage won't work. So, you might as well unplug, detach, and be free.
No, I'm not pulling your leg.
You're free to go. Go on then. Get outta here you crazy kids!!
June 02, 2006
I find it really hard to believe that Buzznet let go of Tony, but if I were a web2.0 or publishing company looking to push/pull into/from myspace, photo space and/or video space, I wouldn't let this guy sit around long... I would grab and fast.
I saw Tony at SXSW, and even after I went home, George hung with him some. Tony worked his ass off there and is the kind of guy crowds gather around because he can talk to anyone. He had some, uh, rather impressive results during his 7 months on the job, too:
all in all i was responsible for at least 13 million page views to buzznet in the seven and a half months that i was there. no one user had ever attracted more than 2.5 million hits other than the pretty boy bass player of the top 40 band fall out boy. i had one user account that got 9.5 million hits, another which is at 2.3 million, and my personal account went over a million hits just a few weeks ago, meaning not only had i been the only person to ever have two accounts to ever get over 2 million, but the only one to ever have three go over a million.
and to be honest, before i showed up no one even thought that anyone could get a million that quick, but one of my accounts did more than that in a week.
i took over 4,000 pictures and posted them, i wrote over 100 blog entries, i sent out over 50,000 messages to our users, and in seven months i hosted seven buzznet meetups in three different countries, most of the time at no cost to the company. i think i was a pretty decent community manager.
unfortunately not everyone saw it that way. which is why tonight im unemployed.
There are a lot of ripples from this news I have to process before I say much more But Tony's involuntary separation from Buzznet is a significant event in the world of social marketing and web 2.0. It's a reverse doocing of sorts. and I have to say, the attitude organizationally is not atypical of what I'm seeing from some web 2.0 cos who forget to shift gears from that "attraction" phase (during which time the community manager is pushing traffic traffic traffic and driving usage usage usage), to the "delight" phase, where the onus is on the the product/service to delight the folks who've joined up.
Otherwise you end up like orkut (Brazil not withstanding) and the dozen other social networks no one gives a shit about.
MySpace is at a critical point here too I think... Sure, its mass (and ma$$) alone will keep MySpace going, but the next amazonesque (the company that consistently re-delights) move in engaging the members who've put down roots, that's not the community manager's job.
Well, more soon on this one. I'll just say, best to you shakespierce. advice (not that you need any)? the way you make your living on the web should look a lot like the web --> become employed within a tapestry of relationships, not by xyz company.
Talked to the Head Lemur today who is as fascinating and riveting on the teley as he is on the bloggy. There are still some passionate bloggers out there--ones who don't give a rat's ass about what the CONSUMER might think of them--and they aren't afraid to keep talking until they hit on cosmic-shifting gems of wit&wisdom. That Lemur's one of them.
George was like, "Who were you talking to?" upon my hanging up, after hearing me snorty-laughing a couple of times. I said, "The Head Lemur." He said, "Who?" I said, "The Head Lemur--the BLOGGING Head Lemur." He was all: "OH! THE HEAD LEMUR?!" I was all, "YEAH, HOW COOL, HUH?" He was all: "WOW!" I was all, "You have to talk to him next time." And then I told him a story that the Lemur told me and George was all: Whoa.
That's kind of how it goes at home.
p.s. in the puppy department, we finally got the new puppy to the vet for all her shots. she was loaded with hook worms. Down the hatch went the first of five worm med doses. eeee. poor thing has probably had them since she was born. the vet things she's about 4 months. She's 30 pounds, and is still bony but not as bony since I've had her on the $$Eukenuba$$ puppy food.
"In recent years, Tanya has been told that her father had cobalt treatments, which severely burned the skin on his neck, yet she has no recollection of seeing burns on her father. She has also been told that the initial lump was followed by several others and that her father's disfigurement increased toward the end of his life.
"At the very end of his life, her father's voice changed, and his ability to breathe was compromised. Yet despite these obvious changes, Tanya has no recollection of ever seeing the physical changes taking place in her father or of having the opportunity to talk about the changes with members of the family....
"It is not merely that Tanya's family prohibited talking about her father's illness. The veil of silence that fell over her childhood prohibited her from seeing what was going on. The denial assaulted her sense of what was real. Her memories of the time from age 10 to 16, the period of her father's illness, are either distorted or nonexistent. Because she was not allowed to see what was going on, it was impossible for her to remember what happened."
"For most people, death does not make an appearance until an individual has enjoyed a full life. We are spared having to deal with loss and tragedy until we are better able to handle the trauma of death. When people meet death in childhood, it marks them. Often, they change the way they understand their own lives, the way they perceive time, and the way they move through the life cycle. They also alter their view of death itself. Death is no longer a mere character in a story but a very real presence that has robbed them of something precious and dear.
"To say that one is marked by early loss may sound dramatic and perhaps extreme. Survivors of early loss do not 'look different' from the rest of us. Their loss is invisible and unseen by most of us. Yet it was surprising how many people I interviewed had come to live and share their lives with another survivor of early loss. It was as if each did indeed bear a mark perhaps only visible to another survivor, but a mark nonetheless recognizable and clear to one who had been through the same experience. In Ben Hecht's words, these were all people who had been 'to the edge of the world and looked over its last foot of territory into nothingness.'"
--The Loss That Is Forever: The Lifelong Impact of the Early Death of a Mother or Father, by Maxine Harris, Ph.D.
June 01, 2006
May 31, 2006
Maybe I am feeling older. Maybe it's the nature of the beast. Maybe I'm jaded. Maybe I live too far inside the Net. Maybe it doesn't matter.
Maybe it does.
Tonight I went to the spring fling gathering of the Atlanta Interactive Marketing Association, which was really a nice get together, but something I wouldn't have gone to if I didn't know a couple of very COOL women who said, "Hey, you should come!"
Toby Bloomberg is just a great lady. She's smart and warm and instantly makes you feel at home. Even when you meet her in person at the top of an escalator at the Atlanta Airport that your child refuses to ride.
Although Toby and I first became aware of each other through a real-world business associate (he who shall not be named), we bonded in the blogosphere, and you know how that goes. Secret handshake, reinventing business on the sly, in our spare time. Toby and I are both involved with BlogHer and are going to the conference in July. I'm hoping we'll wind up on the same flight so she can help me entertain Jenna with stories of Divas and Marketing and why the escalator is our friend. Anyway, Toby was great at the event tonight, as was Maggie Buerger, another well-connected PR and marketing veteran on the Atlanta scene.
And never mind the food--it was awesome, except for saucer-size plates that fit one chicken wing and two spring rolls, and folks when I go from working like mad to driving up to camp to get jenna to dropping her off at my sister's to a 30-mile trip downtown after therapy to attend a marketing whoohaa, you better give me a dinner plate because I haven't eaten since noon and it's 8:30 p.m., and this may be your happy hour, but to me it's a tactical pit-stop on my way through life.
And again, I digress.
The thing that stopped me cold tonight wasn't the drive or the saucer-size plate. It was being back in a tavern that I hadn't been in since the flush days of Ketchum, during the dot-com boom, when we'd celebrate a big account win after work there or cut out early to have some drinks and laughs, and then after the bust, when we substituted a Friday happy hour here and there for our lavish all-company weekend retreats in the mountains.
Let's just say the place has memories.
So I find myself in that same place, with a sea of (mostly young) folks who looked like my colleagues from six years ago--I mean some were dead ringers for their former selves--and yet, I didn't recognize anyone I knew.
And I thought, I had more colleagues in Austin at SXSW than I know in my own town. When I walked into the bar or restaurant in Austin, I screeched with delight to see the people I have known and worked with virtually--and some I had met--for years.
But when I walked into the former haunt of my former business self, I didn't recognize anyone except the fine ladies who led me there.
And what THAT made me realize is how far across the net I have traveled in the last six years. How telecommuting has morphed into broadband living. How part-time in the office has morphed into full-time connectivity. I don't just do my work OVER the Internet anymore; I work across and inside the Internet. My browser is my office. I don't work in Atlanta. I live in Atlanta. I have some clients in Atlanta. But as far as a workplace--mine is online.
The intense, passionate intimacy of this non-physical place we share here never struck me so obviously as it did tonight, standing in a sea of people who were not you.
May 30, 2006
This continues to blow my mind--share your OPML? share your jism in the net's latest circle jerk is more like it. Let's review the first dozen in the top 100....
1. dave winer's best guy friend
2. geekfest playground
3. dave winer's second best guy friend.
4. wealthiest netco in the world run by guys blog.
5. conglomerate blog of gadgets written by guys
8. mostly cory doctrow
9. dave winer's biggest enemy, himself
11. they still publish wired?
12. an aggregator, how meta.
and so on and so on.
A prize for the person who identifies the first blog/feed written by a woman, and only a woman.
Why does it all look the same as everything we've seen before? Because sharing your OPML has nothing to do with sharing as in "evening things out." it's an old boss/new boss kinda thing, ya see....
I got my very first valley schwag order--yah you can count me in on the valley wanna-bes, but not really, from a distance is okay crowd--and was very pleased. I'm proud to be among the last in the run of recipients who will receive their schwag wrapped in a burlap sack. Apparently, hand painting 1,500 of the things got the schwaggers thinking twice. I guess!
Along with t-shirts and a pencil, buttons and a tattoo, I got some really cool stickers that made me think I should get on board the putting-stickers-on-your-laptop bandwagon, but then I thought (Seriously!), "Oh, I really like these stickers--i don't want to waste them on a laptop I won't be using that long..."
consumables, they be a changin'.
I definitely see someone... Jesus.... Dave.... Frank... Steve... Chris... Doc.... I gotta go with David. Go see if you see someone you know in the shroud of the Lemur's doggie door.
This is not the kind of post that makes clients feel warm and fuzzy. So if you are one, go read about my puppy. For everyone else, let me describe how much cosmic energy I am devoting to remaining hyperaware these days to stave off the MFU--Major Fuck Up.
It happens to me about once a decade. Always has. The first time, I was 24 and it was only after printing thousands of magazines (printing was a big deal in 1986) for the New York State Board of Education--me having done the typesetting and layout in PageMaker on a Mac (was it a disk-swaping 512K or SE back then, I can't remember), as well as the photography, the editing, and managing of the production--that the head of Grants Development who wrote an article for the publication noticed her title read: "Director, Office of Grants Develoment and Procurement" - develOment. develoooooment.
Besides that, it was perfect, but close enough for jazz doesn't count in publishing.
The next time was 1996 and it was my first big contribution in my new director of corporate comm position at the now-defunct Systems Techniques, where I talked them into letting me design and print catch-all folders, classy die-cut ones, that we could use for press kits, presentations, proposals, etc. In other words, I was trying to help the company grow up a little from stapled handouts. And the resulting die-cut, classy folder was beautiful, except that no one who proofed it--including yours truly--noticed that the name of the company had a typo in it on the front inside flap: "Sytems" Techniques. Clear as day. How the heck? Amazing how that shit shows up like neon once you have 10,000 printed and stacked in boxes.
Ingenuity is the mother of CYA, so I spent the next months, whenever I had free time, cutting the flaps off the folders and turning them into presentation covers we could use as fronts and backs with our binding machine to dress up our presentation handouts. Not exactly a perfect solution, but it beat tossing them in the garbage. My very forgiving CEO started using the folders anyway: "Hell, I didn't notice it," she said, "I doubt anyone else will."
Now it's 2006, and I've always been one with a keen sense of time, just ask George, and I can feel that little MFU devil on my shoulder at least twice a week --> "Hmmm, something seems amiss, did you forget anything? double check, triple check and watch what you say..."
Maybe blogging this will break the curse, the jinx, the repetition compulsion -- whatever it is -- or maybe I'll just have to be thankful that small print runs don't cost what they used to, and print on demand makes fixing screw-ups easier.
Sheila's got the goods (good links, good listening, and good lord a lot more!).
May 29, 2006
Engage that man!
More glimpses into Mike's world as he picks up the photo slack in Shelley's absence. In fact, he's posted 400 photos across 10 blog entries using BubbleShare, which I think earns him some special lapel pin. GO MIKE! I'm viewing now. It is amazing to see your world up close and personal. How wonderous. How truly amazing.
Well you knew that had to happen. I was just searching up my tag-based feed for Atlanta when I encountered several dozen florida-based florist posts tagged with Atlanta for technorati. Well crap. Was hoping they wouldn't get that smart.
I've been beyond busy these last few weeks. No sign of it letting up. That is good news. I haven't entered a summer as a solo practitioner in four years where business is as good as it is right now. Al Gore and his Internets. Who knew?
Listen, in the puppy department things are interesting. We have a rickety fence that needs fixing. This makes it tough. Bando has long escaped our backyard to have breakfast at one of several neighbors' houses and then be back in the driveway by the time I come back from car pool at Jenna's school. But now little Sophie has learned how to escape too. Bando climbs over (yes climbs, like spiderdog), and Sophie tunnels under.
fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
Apparently Bando was smart enough NOT to follow her out of the subdivision the other day, when she decided to spring the neighbor's dog and run off to the Tires Plus auto store down the road.
Busy road to be exact.
I got a call from a nice woman who said she read the tag on the puppy's collar and it said to call this number. "She's at Tires Plus?!" screamed I. "Yep--we gave them water and kept em out of the antifreeze," replied she.
Off I went, never thinking to put a blanket on the back seat, which I would have if I'd known that she ran away with a 100 pound somesuchdog and that they had both managed to find a MUDINFESTED CREEK to roll in on the way.
Anyway, all's well that ends, and they are back in their rightful places.
Sophie's doing pretty well in the house, but she likes being outside, and she likes being with Bando, and unfortunately they both like escaping, and unfortunately we are getting estimates for someone to put up a new fence. George intends to bury chicken wire along the bottom. I intend to place a classified ad if that doesn't work.
Did I say that the old owner who couldn't take care of her and let her go, whom we met through our neighbor who talked us into this mess, said that she was told the puppy is german shepherd and st. bernard?
yah, kay. thanks for playing the home game.