The thing about Andrea is I know she actually cares about the question she asked in the first place (How’s your day?). She really wants to know. And that inspires me to care more when I ask others that question too. Her sincere questioning also made me stop and think, why isn’t my day great? – which made me realize, it is. I’m having a great day. I told her my day is probably great, not just good, and that there isn’t really anything that could make my day better, partly because I got a new lead for some freelance social media/web work and partly because I met a girl recently who I’m calling tonight to set up our first date. I got a big smile on my face when I said the second part of that, and Andrea said, “Now that’s a good smile.” It’s as if her plan all along was just to get past superficial pleasantries and get to something real, something meaningful to me.

I feel very blessed to work with someone like her who not only really cares about how my day is but will take a few extra minutes to make it even better. And that inspires me to look for opportunities where I can be that person to someone else.

How is your day? Is it just good, or is it great?

I guess my graphic design skills aren’t too shabby after all. (Click on the image to see larger, uncompressed version.)

And I wonder – why, as adults, do we stop singing? I mainly mean that as a rhetorical question because I know all the answers: We’re self-conscious. We’re “mature.” We think we have more important things to do. But I think the actuality is that we’ve forgotten how to really live. A child lives in the moment, is carefree even with a troubled world around her. And she feels free to express herself. A child has a song to sing. Just because you’re an important grown-up, please don’t forget that you do too.

Whew, ok, let’s read some news. But what’s this double-sidebar ad action? And which of all these things I can click on are news and which ones are ads? At an initial glance, it’s not easy to tell. (See photo – click to enlarge).

I don’t blame The Denver Post for this. After all, every other major news provider online does similar advertising – from ABCNews.com to The Wall Street Journal online. It just makes me realize that – dare I even say it – I would pay for news again if it meant I could read it without pop-up, roll-out or banner ads. I like the The Denver Post because I know the content is reliable and, more importantly, that it is edited. The writing is guaranteed to be better than most of the other “free” web news services I read (with the exception of AlJazeera.com, which also has very high-quality content and no advertisements).

Lucky for me, The Denver Post does offer a digital replica edition, which looks just like the real thing and gets delivered right to your inbox. So I guess the question is if I’ll put my money where my mouth is and actually pay for this. That’s just a really difficult thing to do for a guy who, since I’ve been old enough to be interested in reading the news, has never had to pay for it. But if these seemingly un-blockable pop-up ads keep getting more an more aggressive, I don’t see that I’ll have any other option.

When people who don’t know anything about graphic design talk about graphic design, they always use the word “pop.” As in, “Ooh, that font really makes it pop.” Or, “Let’s change that background color to really make it pop.” Any such statements do nothing but scream I don’t know anything about design!

When people who don’t know anything about writing talk about writing, they always use the word “flow.” As in, “Oh yeah, that sounds good, it has a nice flow to it.” Or, “Let’s take out some of these periods and commas because they’re really interrupting the flow of the piece.” Any such statements do nothing but scream I don’t know anything about writing!

Please, please, don’t be one of those people.

I’m in the third week at my new job, and this morning I found myself sitting in a meeting I didn’t know what was about and, even more so, had no clue why I needed to be there. It was like one of those dreams where all of a sudden you’re standing in front of an audience expected to give a speech, and you have no idea where you are or what you’re supposed to say. I can’t say I’ve ever had that feeling before in real life (well, except for a few times in grad school seminars). After a few minutes of silent panic, I realized I could probably just keep my mouth shut and ride it out, which I did. By the end of the meeting, it all made sense why I was there, and, luckily, I had refrained from getting a wide-eyed look of terror on my face or from getting up and running out of the room  posthaste.

Some Austrian dude decided he wanted Facebook to send him all the data they had on him in order to raise a ruckus about
whether or not Facebook is adhering to European data privacy laws. So they sent him all his personal information from 2008 to the present, totaling 1222 pages after he printed it out. (I’m pretty sure he printed it out just to be dramatic.)

He, along with some German privacy-rights folks, claim Facebook uses “invasive internet marketing practices that allow consumers to be observed, analysed and harvested for profit, with no regard for their right to privacy.”

Yeah, well, guess what? As a Facebook user, you are voluntarily posting information about yourself on a site that you use for free that you are in no way obligated to use. You know all that storage space you take up with your photos and status updates and witty comments? Well, that’s on Facebook’s servers, which you are not paying to use either. The entire concept of Facebook is that the user is not the customer. You are the product being sold. The product being sold for a pretty penny to advertisers. Why do you think they don’t ask you before they make changes to functionality or how your profile looks? Because they don’t care what you think.

If you don’t like being said product, then don’t be on Facebook. If you still want to be on there (since doing so is almost essential to anyone with a social life), then log out every time you leave the page and reset your browser (deleting all cookies and your browsing history).

Now if we were talking about someone reading my private emails in order to market to me, I’d be pissed about…oh, wait. I’m on Gmail, and Google reads my emails to know what to advertise to me. But again, guess what? That’s free too.

So I guess if you’re paranoid about your privacy on the internet, you can either get your own private server and host your own email. Or, you can be ok with being advertised to and be smart enough not to put sensitive private information on your Facebook page in the first place.

A recent article by Erika Napoletano (who I think is one of the best writers in Denver, by the way) tackles a subject that I’ve been trying to implement for a while: disruption. To disrupt means to do something that scares you, whether presenting a new idea or taking on a new challenge. In this context, I take it to mean disrupting my own comfortable rhythm of the day-to-day and taking a real risk. I can’t even iterate how important this has become in helping me feel alive. Whether speaking up with a radical idea in a meeting with lots of folks way higher up the ladder than you or jumping out of an airplane, you’ve got to go for it. The rewards can be so much more than you expected.

What this recently looked like in my personal (well, semi-professional) life was playing my first show with a new band. These guys are all top-notch musicians who can hang with the best of the best professional musicians out there. I didn’t consider myself anywhere near the level of musicianship as them, and the thought of taking the stage with them sort of terrified me. But I decided I’d never know quite what I was capable of unless I pushed to find out. Well, we played that first show, and guess what? Turns out I can hold my own. Did I practice the songs almost every day leading up to the show? Yes. Did 98% of me think I wouldn’t be able to pull it off? Yes. But I didn’t listen to that. I listened to that two percent that told me I could do it. Taking the risk and achieving what I set out to in this case has changed my own perception of myself as a musician…and that is extending into my life in general. I don’t plan on ever losing the humility and gratitude I have, but I do plan to continue to nurture my growing confidence that I can achieve things much greater than I previously thought I could.

(that’s me on the far right)

For a long time, when this would happen, I’d get really frustrated and even a bit angry when the door wouldn’t open after multiple tries, and I’d end up pulling really hard on it to no avail. Eventually, I’d curse it under my breath and walk around to the other entrance to the building.

Getting in the door just takes knowing how it works.

I’m starting to see that this is the case with a lot of things. It just takes a little time and patience to observe and figure things out. And getting frustrated and flying off the handle (pun only slightly intended) isn’t going to help. So, for now, I’ll keep watching. I’ll be patient. And once I know how it all works, I’ll open that door and walk right in.