Starting a Business: Takes A Village

Or at least, a gaggle of understanding friends & a weird affinity for stress.

First off, thank you to everyone who submitted their astute (and candid) votes for the Totefish marketing line.  For the curious, it was #1.  Unanimously.  Without (much) reservation.  Simple and straightforward wins.  Thank you!

Over the last few weeks, many have asked me how my start-up is doing.  Being that I’m usually too busy to respond to anyone’s email (and don’t bother calling… you know I don’t answer the phone or check my messages.  Who does that, anyway?)  That’s the beauty of this blog.  It’s like a large distribution email bridging the gaps between work, family & friends.  Plus, I occasionally get to rant about things.

TOTEFISH:  The Check-In

1.)  WHAT’S A BETA:  It’s the first test of my adult business life.  Not only do I test the concept of Totefish (to see if people really find value in having their stores & coupons in one place), but I test my implementation of it.  Do people like how the website is designed?  Do they find it easy to use?  Will they use it more than once?  July 16th.  And then, no more “I’m just working on a start-up from my house in the canyon.”  It’ll be live.  It will be real.  And I won’t have any excuses other than failure.

2.)  THE #1 STRUGGLE:  Having to do everything yourself.  As you can see from my marketing survey, not only is there no fat in a start-up, but there’s no real basic infrastructure either.   No financial executives.  No strategic planning analysts.  No social media consultants.  No marketing department.  No secretary.  No free intern.  The Founder does it all.  Setting up payroll.  Mapping out a Social Media Strategy.  Creating a Features List.  Assigning store categories.  Coping receipts for Taxes.  Setting up an Excel Spreadsheet.  Writing reviews on shoes.  Booking a hotel for a Conference.  Making a Powerpoint presentation.  That’s CEO/Founder time.

My latest CEO endeavor

My typical day starts at 7 am after the kids leave for school.  I run a few blog post experiments on the Totefish Blog site (totefish.wordpress.com), try to decipher what people are looking for on the web, analyze the efficacy of different long-tail tag keywords, and track progress (or regression) of all our web movements.  I then phone-meet with our web designer to give notes on yesterday’s “versions”, map out the day’s To Do list, generate whatever content she needs to design around and spend a little bit of time researching SEO and website optimization strategies while deconstructing the sites of both established & up-and-coming companies.  Then, I turn my focus to our Affiliate relationships.  I apply to new merchant programs, analyze our current merchant affiliate promotions, incorporate key merchants into blog feeds, review 4000+ store websites to verify if a store is really a store and map out our long-term retail strategy.  Then, I break for my third cup of coffee, change out of my pjs and head back to the computer for the next round of duties.

3.)  THE #2 STRUGGLE:  Not enough time to get it all done.  Actually, this is also my #1 struggle.  There’s so much more I want (and need) to do for Totefish each day than I can fit in 12 hours (I could spend weeks just trying to become a digital media/marketing expert, let alone mastering SEO, website design, blogging, server setups, html, java…)  With a start-up, the workload is infinite.  I work 7 days a week, eat lunch at my desk (usually a cheese stick rolled up in a piece of white bread) and take a 3 hour “break” in the afternoon.  As I tell everyone I work with, I am available (via email) from 4 – 7 pm but I’m not productive.  It’s CEO/Mother time.  Homework.  Dinner.  Orthodontist appointments.  But just because I’m not in front of my computer doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about business.  I return to my computer at 7:30 pm (after the kids go to sleep).  My lights usually fade by 10:30 pm.  If only I could figure out how to make the hours between 12 – 4 pm loop and repeat itself.  Can you imagine how much I’d get done then??

Two of my top priorities

4.)  BALANCE: I don’t struggle to balance work and family and life and things.  Nope.  No struggle here.  ‘Cause there is no balance.  I’m trying to launch a start-up.  It’s grueling.  It’s stressful.  I work all the time.  I also have two children under the age of nine.  They’re curious.  They’re loveable.  And when I talk with them, I (try) to make sure my phone is in my pocket (& not in my hand).  Sure, there’s  never enough time for the company.  And never enough time for my kids.  As for my husband?  Daily Exercise?  A book club?  Dinner with friends?  Volunteering?  PTA breakfasts?  Brownies made from scratch?   Are you kidding me?!   You do the math.

I have only two priorities:  My Kids & Totefish.  Because without me, neither would rise to their fullest potential.

The rest, as harsh as it sounds, will carry-on fine without me.

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Simple Rules for Monday Nights

1.)  Don’t order a caffe latte at the restaurant at 9:30 pm.  You’ll regret it at 2 am.

2.)  Oops.

3.)  Find ways to amuse yourself quietly so as not to wake husband & kids.

4.)  Don’t Facebook search ex-boyfriends.

5.)  Don’t Linked In search ex-bosses.

6.)  Do surf a lot of shoe sites.

7.)  Don’t answer when you husband murmurs, “What time is it?”  He’s really asleep.

8.)  Do give yourself a mud-mask facial.

9.)  Do shake your head “no” when your son stands in the doorway and asks, “Is it morning time yet?” and Don’t explain the mud on your face.  He’s really asleep, too.  Walk him back to his bed, tuck him in and steal two neck kisses.

10.)  Don’t give yourself a European bikini wax.

11.)  Ever!

12.)  Do pull out the first chapter of your incomplete novel from the armoire.

13.)  Don’t read it.

14.)  Do curse Hemingway, King, Seuss and any other damn prolific writer you’ve heard someone praise.

15.)  Don’t say anything when you husband says, “Huh?”  He’s still asleep.  Really.

16.)  Do read your past blog posts and tell yourself you’re not a terrible writer.  Not really.  You’ve got potential.  Kinda.

17.)  Don’t wonder if your followers are only following you because they’re your friends and they’re afraid you’ll know when they unfollow you and then, wow, won’t that be awkward at the next Christmas Cookie swap party.

18.)  Do send your followers chocolates in the mail.  Guilt is real.  And it works.  Just ask your Mom.

19.)  Do know that you’re fucked in three hours when the kids come and ask you to make their lunches because it really will be morning time.

20.)  Don’t post that blog list you dashed off in a moment of 2 am inspiration ’cause anything that seems witty at 2:44 am is certainly not witty at 8 am.

21.)  Oops.

 

Just another “Wish I was a Mermaid” Monday

Artist: Waterhouse John William

On Mondays like these, I think I’d do the trade.  I’d go Mermaid.  No wait, hear me out.  I’ve thought it through:

1.)  NO TALKING

Mer-people don’t talk.  Neither do fish.  That means no phones calls, no sales pitches, no DNC calling for donations, no apologies for forgetting friends’ birthdays, no “how many times have I told you” rhetorical questions to kids under 9, and no inane grocery-line small talk.  I’m a mermaid.  I just nod and smile.  I can’t hear you under water.

2.)  NO ELECTRONICS

Anything with a cord would be suicidal.  I live in water, for god’s sake.  That means no bedside light to wake me at 6 am.  No computer.  No cell-phone.  No printer that keeps on jamming.  No rice maker that overcooks the rice.  No Facebook photos.  No Linked In resume lies.  No tweats from Ashton Kutcher.  I’m a mermaid.  I use a hairdryer to bat off sharks.

3.)  NO COOKING 

Sushi every night, right?  No food shopping.  No recipe books.  No standing in front of the refrigerator.  No washing, chopping, sautéing, stir-frying or steaming.  No ham sandwiches to make.  No crock pots to figure out.   No loading dishwashers in a symmetrical pattern.  No coffee beans to grind.  I’m a mermaid.  I make coffee out of seaweed and sand.  I have a trained seal deliver it to me.

4.) NO DIETING

No beauty magazines.  No 24-hour gyms.  No feeling bad about that power-walk that I didn’t take.  The only liposuction happening is with that kinky octopus from the Gulf.  Have you ever seen a fat mermaid?  How ’bout one with loopy breasts?  No more sucking in my stomach because I did eat all the bread in the basket and now, my jeans don’t fit.   My scales are flexible.  I’m a mermaid.  I’m the most beautiful creature a drunk sailer has ever seen.

5.) NO HARD THINKING

You never see a mermaid with a book.  Or wearing glasses.  They swim.  They brush their hair.  They eat some fish.  They play with some porpoises. They occasionally help save a cute man from a sunken ship.  They probably sleep 12 – 14 hours a night.   No teaching myself new technologies.  No trying to figure out digital marketing.  No wondering how I could be a better parent.  No teaching my kid pre-algebra or helping map out Tanzania on her multi-cultural poster.   I’m a mermaid.  I just sit on a rock and try not to cringe when the surf sprays in my face.

6.)  NO HARD LIVING

If I’m a mermaid, I don’t own a vacuum, Windex, tweezers or band aids.  My house is a shell so I know nothing about dust mites, mold and allergies.  There’s no traffic (other than the occasional feeding frenzy) so I never have to check Mapquest or SIG alert or Mulholland Drive before I leave the house.  There are no watches so I’m never late.  No poorly situated keyboards so my right shoulder never hurts.  Schools of fish don’t require large donations or creative Auction baskets.  Mer-children never bicker with each other.  Mer-babies never cry.  Actually, mer-infants, mer-toddlers and mer-elementary school kids don’t require a responsible adult.  It’s parenting by osmosis and new crops of perfect, well-behaved, well-trained mer-people arrive generation-after-generation in full-form.  There are no mer-careers, mer-feminists, mer-Tea Partiers, mer-stay-at-home-Moms, mer-Celebrities (well, except for that red-headed one but she went Liz Taylor so no one sees her anymore).  There’s nothing to think about when everyone is the same (except for your choice in hair color).  I have no worries.  I’m a mermaid.  People like to paint pictures of me.  And I’m friends with Peter Pan.

See what I’m talking about?    It’s not a bad trade when you have one of those kind of Mondays.

Games with My 8-year Old: Name that Lady!

  

       My Daughter:  “Mom, of all the famous ladies alive now, who do you like the most?

       Me:  “Oh, that’s hard to say.”

       My Daughter:  “But if you had to choose.  Who do you love?”

      Me:   “Does she have to be famous?”

      My Daughter:  “Yes.  Or else you’ll say ‘Me.’ ”

      Me:  “Famous to me or famous to everyone?”

      My Daughter:  “Famous on those magazines the babysitter brings over.”

      Me:   “Can I choose different parts from different ladies?”

      My Daughter:  “That’s not the game.  But.  Okay, fine.  But you have to write it down.  And you have to choose ONLY ONE who you want to be when you get older.  Those are the rules.”

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Some Famous Alive Ladies & Their Part(s) I Really Like

*

Tina Fey

Her perfect funny and perfect nose.  Both are sharp and pointed.

*

J. K. Rowling

Her copious, creative writing skills.  870 pages in one volume?  And kids read all of them?  The first twenty pages of my “great American love story” have taken me four years to write.  And no one wants to read them.  Trust me on this.

*

Michelle Obama

Her seriously awesome “Don’t Fuck with me” thing.  In a gorgeous State Dinner gown or a “growing your own organics” stained sweatshirt, I wish I could exude that kind of scary.   Oops.  I meant to say, ‘Her “Don’t Fool with me” thing.’  My bad.

*

 Arianna Huffington

Her accent, perfectly-coiffed hair and reasonable “Left-Right-And-Center” comments.  But mainly, for her accent.  And her blog business.

*

Julie Andrews

Her cross-generational If-that’s-singing-then-I-want-to-do-singing inspiration.   There’s nothing sweeter than hearing my son lull himself to sleep with “those songs that the pretty lady sings in that mountain movie.”  It’s one of my favorite things.

*

Meryl Streep

Her grace at being the most talented woman in the room.  No one wants to see her trip up (or down) the steps.  Not even other women.

*

Hilary Clinton

Her enigmatic ambition.  Clearly she’s smart and driven but otherwise, impossible to define.  Actually, I don’t think I want to be like her but what I wouldn’t do to be a fly on her wall!

*

Oprah Winfrey

Her wealth.  Billions.  Self-made.   She wields the same kind of influence as a dozen male Forbes billionaires.  What woman doesn’t want that?

*

Ellen DeGeneres

Her next-door neighborliness.  Self-deprecating but not insecure.  Up-on-gossip but not catty.  Smart but not arrogant.   She makes you want to bake a bundt cake.   That’s good for America.

*

Madonna

Her deep, unrelenting love of herself.  Every woman should love herself this much.  Just think about the problems we could solve if all women around the world felt as good about themselves as she does.

*

One Alive Lady Who I’d Like To Be When I Get Older

 *

Betty White

Because of her charmed octogenarian life.  When I’m 80, I want to be that involved in the world around me, even if it’s just doing fun stuff.  Wait.  She’s 90?!   Well then, it’s settled.  I SO want to be Betty White when I grow up.

*

And that’s a list that People magazine could stand behind

Sack up, ladies. It’s 2012. You should be online.

And when I say “ladies,” I mean all of you 39+ year olds, men and women, who think they’re cool when they declare “I don’t do Facebook or Linked In or Twitter or anything on the internet that I don’t really understand because you don’t know who’s looking at your picture and you can’t trust people on the internet because who knows what they’re doing with that information, like stealing your identity or worse, really weird stuff in that bathroom with your Disneyland family pic.  Blah, blah, blah.”

Enough is enough.  Polish off that reserve Malbec, let down your $35 pro-blown tousled hair, turn off Journey’s Greatest Hits and sign up for a Facebook account already.  No one uses the telephone anymore.  The world has gone social.  Online, baby.  Just accept it and move on.

Look, seven months ago, I was like you.  I was sitting pretty on my tennis-skirted ass, breezing past the 7th box of “Cut the Rope,” pontificating to the crowd of nodding parents that “you just wait and see, those young kids will regret sharing that information when they try to get a job.”   I was tech-forward enough to think that my indignation towards social media was fair-and-balanced.  Oh, fool that I was.  I’m here to tell you that Facebook ain’t going anywhere.  And if you’re not careful, you’re going to be the old lady sitting alone on the sofa, clutching her purse against her chest ’cause she can’t trust the waiters not to steal it.

Yes, the world has changed.  No, the world ain’t changing back.  Facebook, Linked In, Google Plus, Chatter, Pandora, Flickr, Metacafe, Diigo, blogs… they’re like the Star Wars movies.  Ask yourself what you think of the dinner party guest who says, “What?  Huh? I don’t get it” when another party guest holds two dinner buns upside her head and says, “It’s okay.  I made out with my brother once, too” after the hostess’ husband drunkenly admitted to making out with his wife’s sister.  You’re the lame one.  Not the lady holding bread against her head.

Or if this makes it easier, just think of yourself as Madonna at the Superbowl.  She’s working hard to stay relevant and up-to-speed with the fast-moving world around her.   Imagine how much (more) you would have trashed her if she came out wearing black lace gloves and leather pants?   Oops.  Bad example.  You get my drift.  Even Madonna is pushing her surgeon… I mean herself… to stay on top of pop culture.  The least you can do is sign up to subscribe to a blog (and it doesn’t even have to be my blog.  I’m just saying.)

You understand that you’re going to have to eat crow soon enough, right?  Your “I’m a traditionalist” stance makes you sound like an idiot.  Swallow your pride, shrug off the “only-twits-tweat” insults you made earlier this morning and send your Mom a text email that says “FWIW, 2nite im changin my life 4EVA.  ggg.  BRN & LYLAS” (translation: “For What It’s Worth, tonight I’m changing my life forever.  Giggling.  Bye for now and love you like a sister.”)  Did you ever think you’d say “just google it” to your kids when they ask you “Dad, when was Lincoln born?”  The tech revolution came.  It went.  And it won.  Hulu is a real television station.

While you’re trying to figure out how to be relevant, I have a few more suggestions on how to prevent your kids from saying, “Seriously, Mom?” when you hold out index cards and a Sharpie to practice their vocabulary words:

1.)  Stop being cheap and buy some new music to your ipod.  $1.29 doesn’t even get you a good drip coffee anymore.  Suck it up and download three new songs once a week.  Do what I do and surf Itunes Top 100 and force yourself to buy the top 10 songs, then force yourself to listen to them until your ears bleed a little.  Fun.  Oh no, I meant “Fun.” as if he (or them) is (or are) the top artist today with his/their/her song “We are Young.”  Sometimes, you stumble upon some good stuff to either drink wine with (Adele, Mumford & Sons) or pretend to work out with (Rihanna, Nicki Minja).  Unfortunately, Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift don’t really count anymore.  If your kids can sing along to the song, it’s too late.  It’s kinda yesterday.

2.)  Pick a blog, any blog.  Overall, blogs offers better quality of material than reality t.v., by a long-shot.  Some of the writers out there are… weirdly talented, quietly hysterical and just down-right prolific.  It’s just a matter of time before they abandon their blog to work as a staff writer for Jon Stewart or worse yet, go underground for 2 years to work off their advance for their first novel.  Get them while they’re free – and uncensored.  The ones that aren’t laden down with awards (yeah, you read it right… there are awards in the blogosphere) are usually the most witty (Personally, I think validation corrupts the creative process.  You want to find a needy blogger who’s working hard to please instead of someone who’s massaging their ‘tag’ list.)  And beyond the content (which is copious, to say the least), reading blogs bring out the humanity in all of us.  You’d be surprised how you can genuinely befriend strangers online and grow to really care about their life.  Virtual friendships are real and they’re good.   There.  I said it.  And now, I defend it.  I mean, how is it weirder than sending your annual Christmas card to that couple you met on that Costa Rican zip-lining trip three years ago?  Sure, there are creeps in the world.  I’m teaching my kids to look out for them at the park, even as I type this post.   But that doesn’t mean I refuse to let them go to the park, does it?  Hell, someone just stole mail out of our mailbox in front of our house.  People steal things (virtual or cemented to the curb).  People are weird.  People do unthinkable things with others’ photos.  You have to be smart about what you share (DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT post those photos that you think show you looking all sexy and hot for being 39 ’cause… you’re just looking slutty and 39 and you’re going to lose a bit of credibility with everyone in the morning).  But don’t blame the internet.    That shit been going on since the beginning of time.

3.)  Upgrade to Prime, buy your shoes from Zappos and stream movies from Netflix to your plasma screen.*

*If you don’t understand any of this sentence, I’m afraid you’re farther off the reservation that I thought… and even I can’t help you.   All I can say is good luck and strap on your walker ’cause the world is gonna blow right past you.

Engage.  Download.  And stop being social media wusses.