Category: Online Marketing

It’s Sunday morning. I’m sitting at my dining room table with coffee, staring out the front door of my new condo here in Costa Rica, looking at this: That’s right. Pineapple man hooked me up with one of the new condos they’re selling. I spent a good portion of yesterday out there by the pool, barbecuing chicken with friends, having a few micheladas. (Michelada: Beer mixed with lemonade, served in a glass with a salted rim.) He’s made it incredibly

I have a very important piece of advice for you. When in a foreign country lookin’ all sorts of sexy at the mall (read: for once, there isn’t a mix of sweat, dirt and men’s cologne dripping down your neck) and the ATM eats your only debit card? Don’t storm out of the bank like a crazy person. It’s not very becoming. Particularly when it’s the one day you don’t have on waterproof mascara. Because then you look like even

Yo. Just wrote an update to my Behind Closed Doors group, and thought it might be useful to share with you here, too. (Behind Closed Doors is my insider group where several times a week I put out quick-hit emails like the one below, sharing the deets on my own marketing + sales strategies for TMFproject, as well as share insights and useful information that I’m teaching my One Night Stand clients, and other advice that you can use to

Your ability to get clients has nothing to do with the quality of your work. There, I said it. Bold statement. I brought this up the other day in my Behind Closed Doors group, and I want to bring it up here, too. :: A lot of your future and continued success depends on your ability to perform, yes, but not initially. Initially your success depends on your ability to be perceived as someone who can perform. :: And there’s

First of all, if you want teddy bears, get off this blog. Teddy bears and hand holding is for other people. Here, we’re about fresh ones right across the face. I don’t have time for bullshit, and neither do you.– Second, if you aren’t going to take the quality of your life seriously, get off this blog. I’m not interested in debating the merits of why you should or shouldn’t start your own projects and pursue financial and creative freedom.

So once upon a time I dated a guy with lots of tattoos who worshiped his mom. Wait. Wait a minute. That has nothing to do with the story. Rewind. Back up. Let’s start again. *clears throat*– Once upon a time, my official job title was “Director of Business Development.” There. That’s better. Right story. As Director of Business Development, I flaunted my ass all over Philadelphia, flashing biz cards left and right with that ridiculously long title printed all

So. If you recall, in the last post, I made up a ridiculous scenario where you were headed to your fake neighbor’s house for dinner, whose guts you may or may not have secretly hated. She was serving you quiche, at which point you made a face that slightly resembled this—> ?!?!?!?!!!!!. As a result, you hesitatingly asked her to pass the salt. And then…we stopped the post there, leaving you with the question of…what does this have to do

So let’s say your annoying neighbor invites you over for dinner. Huge bitch. But you decide to go, anyway, because you don’t want to feel like an asshole every time you see her backing her brand new Lexus out of the driveway at the same exact time you and your ’98 Toyota are pulling out. Which, conveniently, happens way more than you’d like. On the night of THE DINNER, you head over with a bottle of wine–secretly hoping she spills

So since I’m in the United States for a hot minute, I have recently acquired a smart phone. I have three things to say about this:– Apparently, I’m better at coding HTML than I am at texting. Considering I have no fucking idea how to code HTML, you can imagine what kind of interesting text conversations I’ve been having. Particularly when so-called “smart phone” decides to change my texts from, “We’ll be there soon” to “We’ll be there vomiting.” Obviously

…yeah, you. Not so much in the, take-me-to-bed-tiger kind of way (that’s tomorrow. really. just wait.), but in a I-want-to-know-what-you-think kind of way. Not about the ozone. Or how much profanity I use. Or the fact that I apparently suck at responding to emails. (Shhhhhhhhh. I’m getting better!) I want to know what you think about… *bongo roll* …the evil… …icky… …topic… …otherwise… …known as… SALES PAGES. *cue all hell breaking loose* *cue slow girl who loses shoe amongst chaos*