What’s the best part about being an entrepreneur? It’s mine. The work is mine. The ideas are mine. The successes and failures are mine. It’s not financially rewarding – yet – but it’s been very personally rewarding. So what happened in week 3? Well, after zero clients in the first two weeks, I now have three of them! One of them is likely just a one-time project, the other is a monthly copywriting agreement for my old job at Chispa Marketing, and the third – and perhaps most exciting – is my first, full-fledged social media retainer client! On top of that, I even had a chance to teach a small seminar to a few local business owners. Awesome, right?
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If you know me well, you know that I’m sadly, yet admittedly, an emotional head case from time to time. My highs are high and my lows are lows. I hug babies and I punch my steering wheel. Well, week 2 has brought the lows. No work, no set schedule – oh, and no income. Granted, I knew this would be part of the battle going in. In fact, I had planned in my mind for a 3-4 month stretch of professional lows. The problem is, it sucks.
If all you’re interested in is knowing why in the world I’d move to Upstate New York in the middle of winter, you can stop reading after this paragraph. If you’re not even interested in that much, then I’m flattered to have wasted 20 seconds of your day. Here’s the skinny – After 7.5 years of living in Miami, I quit my job, threw my earthly possessions into a climate controlled storage unit (so they don’t feel neglected) and drove up to my parents’ house in NY with dreams of starting my own business. Got all that?
If you’re confused about what the OccupyWallStreet movement is all about, don’t worry – this self-proclaimed ’leaderless revolution’ is also a little confused about what its doing, too. The best evaluation of their intentions is that they “will no longer tolerate the greed and corruption of the 1%,” a hazy game plan at best. It’s no wonder that they’re all jobless and angry about it – with that kind of weak strategy and objectives, I wouldn’t hire them either.
Do you ever wonder what your life would look like if you only cared about the things that you cared about, and not all of the other stuff that you assume you’re supposed to care about? I’ve compiled a list of things I know I’m supposed to care about, but don’t, and then a list of things I care about and not everyone cares about. I don’t have a reason for it, but it’s my blog and it’s a slow day, so eat it up.
A few months ago, I started receiving Facebook messages about my 10 year high school reunion. Don’t expect one of those cookie cutter ‘it’s so hard to believe it’s been a decade!’ type of reactions from me. It’s not hard to believe. What is hard to believe is how they make Dippin Dots.
The weirdest things piss me off. Two weeks ago, I missed a flight from Madrid to Barcelona. It cost me $130 to switch to a new flight the following morning, along with paying for a room that I wouldn’t be sleeping in. On top of it, I had to endure a sleepless night in an airport using a balled-up tshirt as a pillow. No big deal. Today? I was told that there wasn’t enough overhead space on the aircraft for my flight from Miami to Atlanta, and I had a conniption. I completely lost it. Gave the lady at the gate a serious piece of my mind and threw a hissy fit because I had to sit on the jetway for an extra 10 minutes.
I’ve never had a clear goal in mind for my blog, which is why a chronological read of it will feel like a road trip through the mind of a psychiatric patient. I’ve written about love, gay people, violence, my distaste for fat people, and many other things. All in all, though, it’s been a journey into self-discovery, although I haven’t discovered anything yet. I read back on some of the things I’ve written and not only cringe at the content, but at the lack of any real intelligence, too.
It’s not that I’m better than that; frankly, I’m not. But it produces kind of an ‘ouch’ feeling to recognize that I’ve mostly squandered my biggest talent on directionless nonsense. Should I write a novel? Maybe a ‘coming of age’ tale about my 20s? Or should I just swallow my pride and stick to nonsense?
Whatever it is, I’m determined to find out. At least right now I am. A couple of months ago, I was asked a loaded question by someone whose opinion I value greatly. He asked “When are you going to get published?” I didn’t have an answer. I haven’t thought about it in years. But the thought of it did give me chills. And then I was reminded that writing is the one thing I know that I could commit myself tirelessly to if I were to pursue ‘bigger things’ with it. I could do that with other things, too, but never with the ease that I could with writing.
And that’s why I’m writing again on my blog. It may be fruitless, in the sense that I won’t make some big discovery about myself or my ambitions. Or maybe it’ll produce more than I’m bargaining for. Whatever it is, I’m determined to find out. Stay tuned.
I’m vain. I might as well admit it. Really, though, I’m just being honest about my self-confidence. That’s all vanity really is. People expect you to be humble about your best qualities, but why should you? If you feign humility, then you’re just being a liar. And no one likes a liar.
Take my eyes, for example. I have blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes, if I might say so myself. Is that arrogant? No, it just happens to be true. How do I know? Because a lot of people tell me I do. So am I supposed to pretend I’m unaware of it, or pretend to be bashful when someone points it out? No way, man! I should just be like ‘yeah, thanks, I get that all the time.’ Vain? Yeah, duh! So what?
If you have something awesome about yourself, don’t let some kill-joy tell you that it’s arrogant to flaunt it or point it out. You’re just being real, and they’re jealous. May you all live in vanity!
I’m 31,000 feet in the air as I write this (or at least I was), from row 37 of an American Airlines flight that better earn me a lot of frequent flyer miles. I’m on my way back to Miami from an 8 day trip to Spain and, frankly, I can’t wait to get back.
What did I attain on the trip, besides an alleged cultural enhancement and a tighter butt from lots of walking? Not much. Some people wear their travels as a badge of honor; a point of pride. Others go in hopes of attaining a new perspective or a new appreciation for life. Me? I went for both reasons. And now that my trip is over, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m better than you because of it.
Spain wasn’t bad. Not at all, actually. But people get all riled up about seeing this checklist of items just to cross them off and go home. Take Las Ramblas in Barcelona, for instance. It’s a must-see according to almost every tourist guide. And it sucks. Yeah, I said it. It’s just a bunch of African immigrants selling tshirts and refrigerator magnets. In every country, might I add.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this travelling stuff. Maybe I’ll appreciate it one day. Or maybe I’ll go back again so I can buy more tshirts and refrigerator magnets.
In the meantime, get ready. There’s a newly cultured white guy touching down in MIA tonight. Be sure to ask him about Las Ramblas.