Link Love

I know I promised "The Parable of Jurassic Park". I'll work on it while I'm at the airport today. That's right, folks! I get to leave behind the 90˚ weather and head back to my hometown in sunny, 70˚ San Diego. I get to visit my parents (always a delight) and play with my nieces and nephews (and hopefully brainwash prove to them that I'm the best aunt ever) and visit with family.

So, this morning, I'd like to send you to a few places that I think you should check out:

Lynn & Lou are not just amazingly inspiring and beautiful, but they're my favorite sister team. Fashion. Design. Fitness. Recipes. They do it all. Check them out!




 A Little Sussy. I love her blog. I love her photography. I actually have her photo 101 book and highly recommend it if you're planning on purchasing (or have purchased) a DSLR. Makes me feel like a pro.

 

[source]

I maybe laughed and then pinned this. It's so true. I'm overweight. I know it. But I suck it up, get up earlier than normal, and get to work. That's who I am, that's what I want. So I do it. 

[Make Up Withdrawal: Tutorial: Easy Sponge Gradient]

Perfect summer look for your nails. Unfortunately, my nails are so brittle and not healthy look at all. But be assured that after San Diego, I want to do this, with these exact colors.

Happy weekend reading! I'll hopefully have a parable for you tonight! If not... I've got a story for tomorrow!

 

Wednesday Letters: Other Girls

Dear Other girls,

Can't we all just get along? 

Why do we have to fight over boys? 

We're fine until some cute boy enters the room and then suddenly it's like we descend to animal instinct. We no longer can be ourselves, but spend our time trying to keep his attention on ourselves. No matter how stupid that is. 

And it doesn't matter how many times we look at each other and in our normal, non-boy interrupted time and make promises to not get in each other's way. It always happens. And then one or both of us will back away from him and everybody loses.

Let's take a moment and realize that while I totally agree with "sisters before misters", I also believe that my friends deserve to find happiness. And if that's with a guy I'm interested (who is obviously not interested in me), that's okay too. You move on. Maybe you take a step away from that guy and give him space. 

But surely, keeping another girl from a guy that could have interest in them because you like him? That's low.

So, let's be classy, girls. Let's work together. And let's not be dinosaurs in the game of dating (to be explained in a post probably tomorrow... The Parable of Jurassic Park as my roommate calls it).

Love,

Emery

Tech Tuesday: 8 Seconds

First impressions are a big deal.

Trust me. I've done speed dating three times. And speed dating is all about first impressions. You have maybe two minutes to charm someone enough to convince the guy that he does want to ask you out on a real date. So you try to find the most exotic or unique answers to the most over asked questions while still trying to sound genuine.

Sound about right? 

Well, for those who haven't experienced it—that's the honest to goodness truth of how those things go. It's not like Hitch made it seem.

Today, I read an interesting statement. It said that reports show that you have 8 seconds to wow a visitor to your website to get them to stay or they're going to be gone. 

Eight seconds?!

I thought a minute was useless. But eight seconds?!

It took you 3 seconds to read the last three sentences, right?

So what do you do?

Well, I can tell you what not to do. 

Don't go overboard!

Your webpage doesn't need to be brimming with logos, animations, videos, and whatever else you think would be cool to have on there. 

Remember the whole "speed dating" analogy. Still works here. Draw them in, show them your uniqueness while still being genuine to you, your company, and your brand.

I don't know what will get visitors to stay. I'm still trying to read and figure out this whole social media business. But you do know what will get your real visitors to stay. 

Because you know who they are. They look like you. You have a specific demographic you're trying to reach. Speak to them. Ask them what they like and what they don't like. And tailor the website to meet their needs. I promise you that it will be worth it.

Maybe speed dating hasn't yielded much success for me. But first impressions are still the best way to find new people.

PS: You should totally go check out my friend, Bethany's blog post at Jibe Media. She says that I inspired her, but... I have a hard time believing that!

Auditions...

I always had a dream that one day... one day I would be in a play. And not the school play like I did in fifth grade (Mrs. Darling in Peter Pan) or The Under-the-sea Princess in Three Tales in Japan. But there were a lot of reasons why I never tried out in high school for a play.

Saturday found me in a theater, supporting my friend who had made a promise to audition. The play had limited women roles (6, in fact) and no ensemble. Odds are good that I won't be called back. But I decided, why not audition as well? It couldn't hurt.

I may be musical, but I seem to have a fear of people. 

I could barely sing. My throat was so tight. 

But the monologue is where I nailed it. I made on of the casting directors tear up as I "acted" teared up. (Except... I was really starting to cry. I was so scared.).

I watched the three other girls audition from my group and then we were able to exit. I was grateful—so grateful when my friend met me outside (she had been assigned to the previous group) with my purse and said, "Let's go."

This has caused me to rethink my future plans and note that above all—I don't perform very well.

Saturday Stories: Blinded by...

I always appreciate when my friends try to play matchmaker and set me up with someone.

It's a rare occurrence. 

If I'm honest, I'm sometimes jealous when my friends set each other up on dates because I wonder if I'm really so quirky that there is NO one that my friends know that might enjoy being out on a date with yours truly.

Yes, it's a self-centered thing to think.

But one time, in my last year of college, my friend decided that she would set me up. I hadn't been on a date in two years. I had lived abroad and so was very nervous. He had driven from out of state on Friday night and the plan was for us to go to a musical performance in Salt Lake City, about an hour drive from where we were.

I left the college football game I was attending early (which you should know was a large sacrifice as I am a die hard college football fan—thank you to my brothers for that) to go home and get ready.

He (we shall call him Will) arrived home with my roommate but as time passed, I realized that with traffic and travel time, we would not be making it to the musical performance. On top of which, we didn't really have tickets. Will was a reporter for his college newspaper and had planned to get me in on his press pass.

Instead, we took my roommate and Will's friends to the mall. I felt like I was sixteen again as we wandered around the mall and met up with other friends of my roommate and my date. Dinner was going to be at the food court.

Will did pay for dinner. But we sat at one of the long tables, and I was at the very end. My date was more interested in talking to his friends than to me. And as a naturally shy person to begin with, I was miserable because I didn't know what to ask or say.

One of the friends had brought his friend along. We'll call this new boy, Mark. Mark started actually talking to me. Asking me questions. We engaged in conversation. Will noticed this and tried to pull his attention away to our conversation, but the truth was—he wanted to be with his friends.

When everyone had finished dinner, we started to walk back to the car. Will, Mark, and myself were the last in the group. Will and Mark began discussing country dancing and Mark tried to explain a new move to Will. He then turned to me and asked if he could demonstrate with me. I gladly accepted (even though my dancing skills are nil). As soon as we were done, Will grabbed me and tried to show off a move too. 

Mark and his friend had to leave, and unfortunately, I couldn't give him my phone number as I was on a date. My roommate decided that she might need a ride home, but had to run a couple of errands in the mall. 

Will and I sat for another 45 minutes on one of the couches in the mall and just talked. It was forced conversation. And soon, my roommate returned to say that she didn't need a ride. 

We walked to the car and Will asked what my recommendations were for how to spend the rest of the evening. My creativity is low when it comes to last minute planning. I told him that we could go bowling or to a movie. Will honestly answered that he was tired from having arrived in town at 2 AM and would we mind if we cut the date short (it was 10 PM). I certainly didn't. 

He took me home, came inside, asked if he could call me when he came back into town. I smiled and nodded, though secretly wishing that he would never call (he didn't). And then laid on the couch and cried. 

Dating sucked. And so I was bound and determined to never go on another date. Ever. 

That had to be the low point, right?

Wednesday Letters: Puppy

Dear Future Puppy,

I can't wait to meet you. Of course, you are coming home to a loud, ridiculous family. I couldn't get a puppy when I was single. It wouldn't have been fair to leave you locked up all day while I was out at work. 

And so, my reward for having a family is getting you.

Oh the things we are going to do together. We're going to play with the frisbee. You're going to love swimming. And when you get big, the kids are going to use you as a pillow while we have family movie night. 

You will be their best friend. You're going to sleep at the foot of someone's bed every night and I'm sure you and I will have plenty of time to talk. 

I'm so glad we got you and brought you home. I hope you're glad too.

Love,

Emery 

Tech Tuesday: Content

Content is king.

I feel like I hear this every time I'm in meeting to discuss social media or the web. Everyone is worried about creating the BEST content, content that will bring more people to their website. 

So maybe I haven't been blogging for awhile, but something that I've come to realized based on the blogs I read (because I read a fair number of blogs): I'm drawn to stories.

I think it's inherent to anyone. We love stories. Who doesn't love a good story?

When I was back East, I visited one of my brothers. He has a two and a half year old son. And I entertained said child by making up a couple of ridiculously cheesy stories. One about a little boy who pretended to be all these different animals and one about a little boy big rig (the kid is obsessed with his big rigs). After he had hear the stories repeated maybe twice, he started to be able to tell the stories back to me.

Why do we love fairy tales? Or fables? We love that they teach us some sort of moral, maybe? Or maybe we really do love a good story.

Stories connect us. It's the details that make things real to use. My favorite times with my family are when we sit around and tell stories. Stories have shaped who I am. They don't define me, they're a part of me.

The blogs I read, they tell me a story. Sure, sometimes that story is about a product or an idea. A story invites you in, allows you to decide where you fit and what side you're going to take. It's persuasive in a subtle way.

So, maybe this week look into your story-telling skills and see what stories you can tell.

Happiest Places

I feel like the people I live around now have been to Disneyland more often that I have. 

Which is sad. Because I grew up an hour and a half away.

My mother isn't much for amusement parks. With good reason. She had an undiagnosed case of multiple sclerosis and so walking was difficult for her. 

I maybe went three or four times from the time I was a child. And since then? Well, I keep planning that maybe... possibly... some day...

So awesome... I sure do love the eighties...

I even have maintained my So. Cal residency in the hopes that when I go, I can get the discounted tickets. (And really, that's just an excuse. I can't yet give up that I'm not living in California anymore). 

But Disneyland isn't my happy place. No... I have a lot of happy places. I have the happy place that was the Wilton House in England. Wandering around the grounds there (Yes... they have GROUNDS in England!), I realized that maybe I was destined to live in the country. Maybe the ocean air isn't for me after all. 

I have the little apartment in Spain with the balcony so close to the beach that I could taste the ocean air. I miss that apartment.

There's the little room in our first house in my hometown. In the bedroom that was mine. With the window in the front of the house so I could spy on my brothers as they played basketball. I miss that room.

But mostly, whenever I need to be reminded of good times, I just picture my parents' house in California. In fact, whenever I feel the need to find my center again that's the first place I want to go. To find the balance again.

I'm heading back there in a couple of weeks. And at this moment, that feels SO good. Just knowing that it's coming. I'll take it.

Build Me a Father

It seems unfortunate that once again, Saturday came and went without a story from me. I got caught up in a couple of softball games and time slipped away from me. (Luckily not enough that I have a sunburn to show for my lack of attention.) Good stories always happen when it involves me and sports. My brothers did not pass along their athletic aptitude to me.

Today, I wish to introduce you to my Dad. Only seems appropriate for Father's Day, right?

Dad is a quiet, unassuming man. He has a weird sense of humor, meaning whenever he gets up and speaks in Church and says something he thinks is hilarious, my mother and I usually turn to each other and roll our eyes. It doesn't matter how often we tell him, he doesn't get it. But we still love him.

I believe I've inherited his knack for all things electronics. Just the other day I was at my friends' apartment trying to play a DVD. They had two DVD players and the one not hooked up to the TV was the one that played the DVD. My friend suggested that her brother could hook it up (who was in the next room). I complied. Better to let men be men than for me to tinker for 15 minutes. However, I still provided some small suggestions maybe twice that let to the successful completion of the task. 

I sometimes fear that I'm too independent because tinkering usually fixes the problems. Thanks, Dad.

He's a good man who has provided for my entire family (all 8 eight kids and my mother) for a long time. And he still does. Family reunions happen every other year and he always seems to pay for something that brings the entire cost down for the rest of us.

He has now lived longer than both of his parents lived.

He loves watching his sports. But sometimes I used to catch him watching Dawson's Creek or some other primetime teen soap opera. I was almost embarrassed that he had such a guilty pleasure. But mostly, he loves old Western movies. John Wayne. Or old prison movies. Twelve O'Clock High.

I sure do love him. I realize that I'm probably a foreign visitor to him (he doesn't know how to deal with girls—he has six boys! And he only had one sister!), but I'm grateful that he was always willing to do my homework help me with my math homework in high school. I still use that story. The most difficult problems I could always take to him. He'd solve it, then talk me through the solution and hand me the paper so that I could copy it to my homework. Made me look so brilliant. I always gave him credit.

So, that's my dad. And I hope that today, on Father's Day, he knows how much I adore him.

Wednesday Letters

Dear Bestie,

I miss you. A lot.

It's been over a year now since you moved to California and I stayed here. And I still miss you.

I miss our once a week writers' group nights that basically turned into a girls' night. I miss our trips to Jamba Juice or Starbucks. I miss our times to get together and me to tell you stories and you to give advice or just be around. It's just not the same to do it via email.

You've got your two cute kids now. I appreciate you having a blog so I can watch them grow up. They're adorable. 

But really? I'm just grateful for you. For letting me come into your life and build a friendship with someone who I really needed right then. That internship you took changed my life. I feel like I have the best cheerleader ever and someone who understands me so much and who I trust. Thanks for that.

And while you're looking at houses to buy, keep an eye out for something in the neighborhood for me. I'm feeling like a move needs to happen ASAP. 

love,

Emery

Tech Tuesday: TED Talk

My friend, Otto, recently convinced me to start watching TED talks. 

They are these fantastically great videos that talk about "technology, entertainment, and design". But it reaches beyond that. 

So, today may not be so "techie" but I do want to share the most recent video that I've watched. And it's made me start thinking a lot about so many things.




It's a 20 minute video but I'd love for you to watch it and then comment below about what you think or what struck you about the presentation.

I'm a Writer

Maybe that statement is a little obvious...

I mean I called my blog "A Writer's World" after all.

But seriously.

I still remember my first story. I wrote it in first grade. It was called "The Day My Skipper Came to Life." Yep. It was all about—you guessed it—how my Skipper doll came to life. I'm hoping that the published version which remains safe in my parents' house will continue to stay there. 

My next big venture was a story I never finished about a girl who pretends to be a boy on her brother's little league baseball team. It came out of watching too many of my brothers' games.

Somewhere along the lines, I realized that writing may be something that I was good at, but it certainly wasn't going to put money in the bank. So, I gave up on it for awhile.

But I kept reading.

Maybe there was a summer when I had to read 55 books.

And as I read, I thought about how maybe I could write something. Maybe it wouldn't be published, but it certainly could be better than some of the literature books I was reading.

With the help of one of my best friends and inspiration from my niece, I went to work and started to write. I wrote the story of a niece and an aunt who went on a road trip together. And then I got bored. I felt like it was the same story I always told.

About two years ago, I started writing another story. Recently, I picked it up again and started to edit and move forward. Unfortunately, after getting a new computer, I lost my most recent edits. It was a sad day and I still haven't quite gotten back up to par with it. But I'm determined to finish this one. Let's just say it's a ghost story.

So, maybe I spend my day crammed in an office with a pretty sweet view of the valley. Maybe I push a lot of papers and read a lot of legal documents. But one thing is for sure—I'm still a writer. And for now, I'm loving that world.

Saturday Stories: The Black Eye Incident

Not too long ago, I was healing a broken heart.

My friend was trying to get me out and back in the dating game. Because that's apparently how to fix a broken heart. 

So she lined me up on a date with some boy she knew and planned on coming along on a double date to help me with my awkward epic shyness. 

He didn't pick me up. I met him at a park. We decided to go and play Frisbee Golf. Frolf, if you will. So we drove to Walmart, picked some frisbees and then drove around for an hour trying to find a Frisbee Golf course. We failed and returned to the park where I had parked my car. We then basically made our own course as we wandered around the park using different objects as the "hole". My date and I talked a bit, but really there wasn't much chemistry. 

We decided it was probably time for some dinner so we started back to the car. In the middle of the park was a giant steep hill. We walked to the top of it and my friend decided it would be fun to roll down the hill. She was 20. Twenty year olds can do that. 

So she rolls down the hill. 

Her date rolls down the hill. 

My date looks at me. 

My thought process was something like: 

I'm 28 years old. 

I don't roll down hills.

But I don't want to be the killjoy.

This date isn't leading to a second date.

But maybe he'll see that you're spontaneous and fun.

Do you want there to be a second date?

Well... no... maybe?

Just do it.

So I did. I rolled down the hill.

Except I forgot to take off my glasses.

The glasses hit my nose quite hard and flew off. 

At the bottom of the hill I laid there feeling extremely old. 

That's when I felt my nose running. It had been slightly cold.

When I pulled my hand away, there was blood.

I had given myself a bloody nose. 

And I could feel the bruise starting to form on my nose.

It was awful.

There was not a second date.

There wasn't even a follow up acknowledgement.

I was okay with that.

I may be the worst first dater ever. 

Wednesday Letters: The Graduate

Dear high school graduate,

Congratulations. You passed. You survived high school. That's a big deal! Give yourself a pat on the back and enjoy this moment.

Now. Here's my advice to you. It's time to figure out what you love. What you're passionate about. But also what kind of career you want. And then ask people how they got there. 

I'd say 60% of the time (it's maybe more... I might be low-balling it.) most people don't have a degree that is in the industry they work in. I work with intellectual property (copyrights) and the legal rights of a company. My undergraduate degree is in Modern American History. You have to learn about "transferrable skills." What I mean by that is that you're never defined by the jobs that you've had, but rather the skills you gain. I know I don't have a legal background, but my degree taught me how to research, how to logically put together a report that shows the rights of our company in regards to a specific product, etc. I gained these skills and can turn them to help me with any job change.

Now, for some advice specifically to any graduating girls. Girls. I know you think that you will marry one day and so you think—why should I even bother getting a REAL degree? I love writing poetry. I should just get a degree in that. I was there. Eleven years ago, I had the same thoughts. I could just be a writer. And then I got old (okay... maybe not really old, I'm 29, but I'll count that as old). I realized that marriage may come but really I need to be doing something that I'm good at, something that I love, but also something that made me money. Money so that I could live.

I guess what I'm saying is while you're waiting for Prince Charming to show up, maybe take your writing skills and get a degree in communication and advertising. You can use those skills to write jingles or slogans. Because heaven knows that there was some brilliant closet poet who came up with "Every kiss begins with 'Kay'" or "Whenever there is fun there's always Coca Cola." See? 

You just have to think outside of the box a little bit. And ask around. You'll always get plenty of advice.

Now, go enjoy your summer. Live it up (not too much). And good luck in college.

Regards,

Emery

Tech Tuesday: So, you have a blog

So you have a blog. 

You've been writing for ages.

And you just can't get any visitors?

Yep. I know the feeling.

Somehow, we've got it in our heads that the number of page views on our blog or the number of "likes" on Facebook have a place in determining our social networking self-worth. Because if you don't have these connections then you'll never make it.

Really? We're in junior high again? I don't feel good about that at all.

Fact: You control how many people can find you.

Fact: You can start making comments on other people's blogs. They'll visit yours. 

Don't believe me?

A while ago, I posted one comment on a blog about someone's visit to my home town. It was first thing in the morning and I simply wrote something about being jealous and how much I miss it. Hours later, I received an email response back saying that the blog author had checked out my own blog. How cool is that?! So maybe as people comment on your blog, you send them a note or somehow return the favor. 

Why? Because we're all about building relationships. 

The second way to have people find you is to use your labels on your posts. My friend told me, when I started this blog, that I needed to utilize this tool more so that people could find the blog. Maybe it hasn't helped a ton, but I'm sure it will, 

So, what are some ways that you have found to get visitors onto your blog? Share with the class.

And... Go!

Monday, Oh Monday

Saturday came and went without a good story. 

I'm sorry.

I ended up playing softball. And when I say I play softball, I don't just mean that I stand around in the outfield watching butterflies. I grew up with 6 brothers, remember? I know how to play.

Unfortunately for me, most guys don't want to give me a chance to show them.

(Story of my life sometimes... ha ha.)

But it was fun. I got a base hit. Felt good about that. Maybe played first base for two innings and caught some outs. 

And now we're to Monday, once again.

I heard this analogy today and I love it. I realize I should probably start talking about something OTHER than my dating life. This Saturday, I will. I'll tell an amazing story that has nothing to do with my dating life.

But here's the analogy with dating:

Think about how you shop. The clothes that you love that you consistently wear, they make you look good and feel good. They give back to you. Something on the rack? You have to try it on and sometimes it just doesn't look right. It's not the right fit. So you return it, put it back on the hanger and try again. Sure, your body changes but in reality you have your own style.

It's the same with dating. We try things out and we decide if things work out or if they don't. And we can return. But the best relationships are the ones that give back to us and make us feel good. 

So look for those relationships. 

And have fun! Because that's the best part of shopping.

It's why we, girls, don't love to shop alone. It's better to have someone with us.

(Trust me. I was measured for a bra for the first time a few weeks ago. My friend was there and it was easy to shop because she would say "Yes. That looks great" or "I like the other one better." Made my day. And now I have a real bra. That fits. Because my last one apparently shouldn't have...)

There's my advice for you and me today. Until tomorrow...