How to pitch your consulting services: A practical guide in what NOT to do.

I recently had to upgrade my license to a Class 4 so the government would know that I probably won’t crash when driving a bunch of people around in a 15 passenger van but that seems really unfair because WAS MY LIFE ALONE NOT WORTH THE EXTRA LEVEL OF TESTING? Now I feel unloved by the government, which to be honest is kind of a regular problem.

I’m getting off track.

I felt like I had leveled up in life. Like, if life were a video game, the ‘badge unlocked!’ screen would flash in front of my face and give me a gold star.

Except.

The rental van – which was so big it was more like a bus – was way fancier than my little beater car and it had a bunch of buttons on the dash that I had never seen before. I asked my trainer about them but she was like “just ignore those” but I can’t because BUTTONS and I couldn’t ask my driving tester guy because I was afraid he’d be like “you don’t know what those buttons are?” and then take away my fancy license.

If you managed to follow that you also get a gold star for your ability decipher bullshit.

That one’s important.

And, sidenote, it’s funny that I have a fancy license because I am the same girl that proclaimed, upon entering a friend’s car;

“Ooo, automatic windows and air-conditioning. Fancy! My car is manual everything, and you know what I do when it’s too hot out? I die. I stagnate in a car so hot it would be illegal to leave a pet in it. What does this button do?”

And then, a week later, I stated that I couldn’t drive a stick. I was with the same friend, and they gave me a look of utter confusion and said “Didn’t you say your car was manual?”

“Oh no, not like that. It’s automatic. It’s manual everything else. Like, I have to manually roll down the windows and stuff. That’s manual labour, ya know? Manual.”

I was dead serious.

Anyhow, back to the buttons in the van. Now I feel like it will be one of those great unsolved mysteries – I’ll never know what these buttons do and I’m too afraid to push any of them in case one of them is the ‘spontaneously combust’ button, which frankly, would be irresponsible of them to include without clearly marking it with an on-fire stick man.

There also appears to be a to-do list button, and I don’t know much about how these designer features are added but I don’t think you should be creating your to-do lists and driving at the same time.

Seems distracting.

I’m already bad enough at to-do lists.

Mazda, if you’re reading this, I’d be happy to come aboard as a consultant and test-drive your new vehicles in exchange for insightful feedback such as this.

Only automatics though.

The moral of the story here is that it’s been found, beyond a reasonable doubt, that I am responsible enough to transport lots of other adults around at once.

Who wants to go for a drive?

 

 

 

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Did you guys know there are dildos with cameras?

***Full disclaimer: this post talks about dildos and vaginas. If you’re not cool with that, I suggest coming back later.***

So my techy sister and I had the following conversation:

A little while later we had this follow-up conversation:

 

PS – I’m really scared of the type of google searches that are going to lead people to this post.

PPS – If you’re here because you were looking for sexy time videos (aka porn), I’m sorry.

 

 

I’ll take that Premium D…

***Bonus post for my other post this week just being me posting about how I can’t post and the posting is f’ked up.***

***I may have just created a blogging black hole. Also, if you followed that, congratulations! You get a sucker.***

***This is that post I was having trouble with, I wanted to add a bunch of Beauty and the Beast GIFS but WordPress won’t let me because they hate me. Or you. Probably you.***

***I’ve since found out that it has something to do with the capabilities of WordPress.org over WordPress.com. I have to import my whole blog over to .org and find hosting and a bunch of other stuff to add GIFS. The moral of the story is no GIFs for you.***

***For now at least. No one knows what the future holds.***

I’ve been pulling some crazy days lately. All my days seem to be 18 hour days, but I’m working on super fun, creative projects so it’s okay.

One of the things I’m doing is launching a Podcast with one of my best friends (I’ll tell you about it soon!) and we actually have an event booked already, which has really put the pressure on our deadlines.

Instead of our weekly meeting last night, we decided to take a break from all the hard work over the last couple of months and go see Beauty and the Beast. It was…

AH-MUH-ZING.

And not just the movie. Or the soundtrack. Which I will be singing for a week.

But the tickets… we sprung for the “Premium D-Box Seats” and could. not. stop. giggling. Because we have the emotional maturity of 12-year-olds. (For those that don’t know, the Premium D seats are the ones that move and shake and shit.)

I didn’t realize the seat could be turned up or down, and for realz, the next time I go I’m going to ‘jack up the intensity of that Premium D’.

THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!!! What?!?!?!

I’m fairly certain at this point they didn’t get named Premium D by accident.

What’s your best Premium D pun?

PS – Oh, and it’s Good Friday. Can anyone tell me what resurrection has to do with Easter Eggs, and why do they come from bunnies? It’s like religion was designed to make you stop asking questions. #zombiejesus

PPS –

 

Really, not helpful.

I have a tendency to write random notes or thoughts, especially at work, and especially during phone calls or conversations. Usually these thoughts and observations get transcribed onto sticky notes. I run my life on stickies.

These stickies, however, aren’t always useful.

A prime example of this is a post-it note I found at work:

sticky-v1‘Not engaging’ seems like a pretty important note.

I vaguely remember writing this as a reaction to something (a project, maybe?) that I reviewed, but beyond that I got nothing.

So I updated the sticky with a little “note to self”.

sticky-v2PS – Isn’t it truly shocking that “young professional” is a descriptor for me?

Technology is dumb.

I only say that because my computer is throwing tantrums like a toddler and not working right now. So I don’t have a complete post, but I sent this in an email recently and found myself hilarious, so wanted to share.

I love that you’re a fellow Canadian and totally get it! I’m drinking copious amounts of rum in an effort to deal with winter. My doctor says that that’s not how “coping” works but we agreed to disagree. Well, I agreed to disagree. She gave me an AA flyer.

FULL DISCLOSURE: None of that really happened. I just like to be dramatic. But it is winter here. And it’s terrible.

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I’m gonna be a millionaire…

Or responsible for the apocalypse.

Let me explain.

So I was at an event and having a lengthy conversation with a person I didn’t actually know. She knew me though. By name. And I am often too polite to ask “Who are you?” so I just pretend my way through the conversation.

Afterwards my friend came up to me and said, “Who was that?”

I don’t know,” I replied. “But she seems nice.”

That’s when we came up with a new invention. It’s like Shazam, an app you launch on your phone that listens to music and then tells you who it’s by, but for faces. You would discreetly launch it and point it at somebody and it would tell you who that person is.

We’re going to call it Whozami.

PS -The apocalypse because dozens of dystopian novels start with this type of software.

PPS – The only drawback is I can’t figure out how to discreetly point it at someone’s face. “Are you taking a picture of me?” “No! Shut up. I mean, just keep talking. Nothing weird happening here. You were talking about Bob from the general store? Can you keep your face still?”

PPPS – This sorta thing might already exist and they’re just not letting us pleebs use it.

PPPPS – The government is ruining my social life.

I think I gave my sister anxiety.

I am 100% percent not ready for Christmas so I’m going to pretend that it isn’t happening. At least for now.

******

If you didn’t read about how I fixed my phone, go here first.

I got an email from my super tech-brilliant sister a couple days later with a link to that post:

It simply read: “FYI, this has caused me physically heart-wrenching death pains.”

I responded: “Was it worry for me possibly dying in a bed fire, or simply worry for the phone and my technique?” (I totally already knew the answer.)

Her: “A little bit of the first, but primarily the second. Why nail glue? Whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy?”

I laughed for awhile when I read that – which is terrible because she was probably actually twitchy. Apparently I should have used glue specially designed for repairing phones and other electronics.

Well, dear sister, I didn’t have phone-repair glue. I had nail glue.

Love the one you’re with, ya know?

And I stand by it. It totally worked.

PS – But actually, you should listen to her advice and not mine. Your chances of dying in a bed fire drop by, like, 90%.

Just, no.

So I was grocery shopping, and like any person that isn’t totally normal, I often keep packs of oatmeal in my desk drawer.

What? Stop judging me.

I’m just the type of person who sleeps until the last possible minute. And obviously, the last possible minute doesn’t involve getting up in time to eat breakfast, or make lunch.

Or do much of anything except scream, panic, and run out the door.

So I keep emergency food at work.

I use the term “emergency” loosely.

Anyway, I was grocery shopping and I remembered I was out of desk oatmeal so I should pick up more.

And I considered getting a variety pack. So I read the flavours:

oatmeal

Really though.

And let me just say, no one gives a fuck about “Regular.”

 

I named this file "Gross, plain" on my computer. No joke.

I named this file “Gross, plain” on my computer. No joke.

 

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What’s up, Pinterest?

I’M BACK BITCHES!

Sorry for the extended absence. Life got pretty unsettled, but it’s calmed down. For a hot minute (a couple of days) I was working six jobs trying to make ends meet. SIX. Like some kind of masochistic psychopath. They say there’s no jobs. A job recession. Why?

BECAUSE I HAVE ALL THE JOBS.

Not anymore though! Now I’m just working one, super-awesome job and making a decent living. Also, they have my same twisted sense of humour. More on that later.

So today I got a notification from Pinterest:

WTF Pinterest?

WTF Pinterest?

What? Why?

Usually Pinterest is like:

“We’ve got new boards for you in tattoos.”

Or,

“We’ve got new boards for you in art.”

Which makes sense, cause I’ve pinned a bunch of those things. But my love affair with Pinterest ended and I pretty much stopped using it. So it’s been awhile since I responded.

And now I think I’ve unsettled Pinterest’s confidence, and it’s just taking stabs in the dark. Like:

“We’ve got recommended boards for you in, oh I don’t know, chicken?”

Get your shit together Pinterest. This is embarrassing for all of us.

 

Comment of the Day:

“Pinterest is really bad a working out what I actually want to see. I pinned one or two things to do with writing amid a bunch of art and books and knitting and other pins, and then it flooded me with ALL THE WRITING AND NOTHING ELSE. And they’re all the really negative articles (“10 mistakes writers make right before they get stabbed on the street by readers who hate them so much they’re willing to go to jail for the rest of their lives just to get rid of the writer and then also the writer goes to hell to be tortured for all eternity because the universe unanimously voted that they deserved it and apparently this overrides the writer’s belief that hell isn’t actually a thing”) that give me super writer’s block. And I can’t seem to re-train Pinterest to just show me art and books and weird nerdy knitting patterns and leave the writing alone.”

This is from Silence Killed the Dinosaurs. If you haven’t read that blog yet, you should. It’s hilarious. And awesome. Hilariously awesome. That’s like the highest level of blogging.

 

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An open letter to fortune cookies.

Dear Fortune Cookies,

Last week I got one of those cookies with the generic piece of advice fortune inside.

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The fortune says “It is quality rather than quantity that matters. Do a good job.” Firstly, you can’t tell me what to do, cookie. I do what I want.

Secondly, I would like to say this is not a fortune. A fortune is “You will have much luck in your future.”

Or “You’re going to win the lottery next week. Be careful not to blow it all on a life-size statue of Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump dueling to the death. Or tequila shots. You have a 50/50 chance of going broke again.”

Or “Don’t visit Louisiana. You will surely get eaten by alligators.”

My point is, there are a lot of fortune options. ‘Quality over quantity’ is not one of them. It’s a cliche dressed up as wisdom.

Thirdly, the ‘Do a good job’ part of the fortune really bugs me. As if I can’t simply deduce for myself that quality over quantity means ‘do a good job’. It’s condescending. In case you were frantically googling the definitions of quality and quantity, fret not, you have the cliff notes summary at the end to help you out.

Fourthly, sometimes it IS quantity over quality. Ironically, I’d like to point out that you yourself, cookie, are a prime example of this. I believe it’s the entire basis for your creation. I imagine people sitting around a table at your taste-test, and it went something like this:

Jim: “This is worst cookie I’ve ever eaten. It’s as dry as the Sahara. Does anybody have any water? That glass of water is not big enough Judy, did you not just hear me say the Sahara? That’s a desert in case you didn’t know. Get it together Judy.” (Editor’s note: I’m sorry, that Jim is a real asshole. I don’t know what’s up his butt. It’s probably the terrible cookie.)

Ted: “Well, we can send it back to product development, but that’ll be another $10,000.”

Don Draper: “Everybody calm down. It doesn’t matter what the cookie tastes like. People will eat it just because of the tacky piece of paper inside. Let’s move forward.”

Ted: “It’s comprised of 60% cardboard. Are you sure you want to move forward?”

Don Draper: “Will it kill people?”

Ted: “Just their taste buds.”

Don Draper: “I’d call that a success. Somebody light the cigars.”

And you know what? People do eat you. In fact, my mom told me as a child that if I didn’t eat the whole cookie before reading the fortune that it wouldn’t come true and to this day my OCD makes me eat the entire damn cookie first, and if you’re going to make me suffer through that I’d like the fortune inside to the worth the pain.

Sincerely,

Everybody.

Or probably just me.

One of those.

PS – I’d like to get into the fortune-cookie-writing game. I think I may have a knack for it.

PPS – If anyone wins the lottery with the numbers listed at the bottom of the fortune, I want half. This blog post is a contractual obligation to split your winnings with me.

PPPS – We’ll go into the fortune-cookie making business together. We’ll make obscene fortune cookies. They’ll sell like hotcakes.

PPPPS – We’re gonna be supes rich.

PPPPPS – What are hotcakes?

UPDATE: Also, if you do the whole ‘in bed’ bit the fortune reads: “It is quality over quantity that matters. Do a good job in bed.” I can’t disagree with that last part, but is it really quality over quantity? I think the quantity part is pretty important to a healthy sex life too. This is one of those situations where one shouldn’t be forced to choose between quantity and quality.

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