Want to be lazy at PR? Fill in the blanks

June 4, 2010


Yesterday, I received this heartfelt, personalized email from someone in the PR realm:


Hi Christina,


I had seen that you wrote about [reference article subject etc] and thought you might be interested in this new initiative we just launched with. . .

As my father would’ve said: Close, but no cigar.

I imagine that someone at this PR agency (and, yes, it’s a bona fide agency), went through a bit of trouble to craft a pitch letter for bloggers. They probably told their employees “make sure you find out the person’s name” (though Liz didn’t get a name on her pitch letter, and Kristen’s person called her Karen).

But, to go through the trouble to get my first name and then forget to throw something in about [reference article subject etc] is a new kind of fail.

PR people? I know there are good ones out there (I work with many of you).

But for the rest of you, let me make this easier for you: Blog Pitch Mad Libs:

Dear (insert name),

I enjoyed reading your (adjective) post about (noun). Our brand of (product) would be so appreciated by your audience of (noun) lovers in (city or state). In fact, we are so confident of this, we’d like you to give away (quantity) of (product) to your readers!

Please contact me at (email) to discuss this opportunity further.

But, so help me, if I get a pitch letter like this with none of the adjective/noun words filled in, I’m outing the agency who sent it.

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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Me, Fairly Odd Reviews 10 Comments

A little "yes" in my life

June 2, 2010

I knew I was going to love this as soon as I tentatively asked, Can we have our cocktails by the pool? and Ed our waiter said, Yes! You can have them IN the pool!


IN the heated, adults-only, outdoor pool looking at the mountains of Stowe, Vermont.


Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.

Yes!, you may have olives stuffed with blue cheese even if it means we have to don a rubber glove and stuff them by hand.

Yes!, you can come to lunch wearing nothing but a big fluffy white robe. We won’t even flinch when you dump a bloody mary down the front of it.

Yes!, you may have s’mores by the campfire even though you are a few decades older than most of our s’mores roasters. And tipsy.

Yes!, we’ll pick you up and drive you to town for dinner. Oh, and of course, we’ll pick you up and bring you back whenever you want.

All of this “yes” makes for a lovely four days away from home, but a helluva adjustment coming back to three kids, as you can imagine.

No matter. Going away with my sister and four friends to welcome her into the folds of forty, was worth the long drive, the expense, and the painfully obvious return to NO! which I now realize I hear more than I cared to consider.

Many thanks, Topnotch Resort & Spa, for all that yes. I needed it.

Photobucket
(yes, I want to go back)
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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Me, Travel 18 Comments

It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon*

May 25, 2010

*this is not a post about running, although those close to me know it’s all I want to talk about lately. . .


It’s May which means school is about to end and I will start fielding questions from people who are thinking about homeschooling next year.

Maybe their child got assigned to the “crappy” teacher for next year (isn’t there one in every grade?). Maybe they are sick of the growing burden of homework and know it’s only going to get worse? Maybe their child is being bullied or ignored or has needs that aren’t being met in the school system?

Or, maybe they’ve gotten to know my awesome kids and want to be more like us. (heh)

For all the things I say to people about homeschooling, I usually talk about the mechanics of it: what resources I like, the curriculum we’ve tried, local classes/groups/activities to check out.

But I often forget the best piece of advice I’ve been given from other veteran homeschoolers. It’s the the title of this post: It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon.

Unless you are planning to homeschool for just one year (and if you want a good reason why I don’t suggest it, read this book), you have a long, long time to make sure your kids are prepared for college.

That doesn’t mean I advocate doing nothing until 9th grade and then trying to cram everything into a few years. Anyone whose done a marathon will probably tell you that they are working hard from the very start. But, like in a marathon, if you start out going too fast or push too hard, you’ll burn out.

I did this. I bought loads and loads of books and workbooks and manipulatives and daily planners and CD-ROM’s. And I started with an enthusiastic daughter who loved doing work for me.

But then one day she started to resist my efforts to keep on a schedule. Maybe she could smell my fear that “Ohmygodwe’regoingtofailatthis!!!!” (I swear I smell french fries when things go bad, as if my brain is telling me I’m going to produce a McDonald’s fry cook unless I finish this lesson, dammit.)

When she resists though, maybe it is because she just didn’t understand the lesson and is trying to tell me this in her own way, by refusing to move on. Or, maybe the lesson is so deadly dull, any kid in their right mind would tune out, something a teacher in front of 30 kids can ignore but a mother with her one beloved offspring sees loud and clear.

So, I’m trying to learn.

I tell that voice in my head to shut up and slow down if we need to. Take a break. Play outside. Talk. Read. Put down the pencils. Change our tact. If we don’t finish third grade grammar until late this summer, or even halfway through fourth grade, the Earth will not spin off its axis. My daughter will not be stuck making fast-food french fries as an adult.

The fear that I need to push, to do more, to move forward at lightening speed never really goes away. Yesterday, I heard of a mom who homeschools her children from 7am to 2pm. I have friends whose kids are doing work far ahead of their grade level. I have friends who seem so confident, while I feel like I need to pick myself up off the ground daily and say you’re doing ok.

We’re doing ok. And we’re not even halfway there. So I’m going to keep us chugging along, stopping when we need to catch our breaths, and hope that we’ve got enough in us to make it to the end, wherever that may be.
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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Me, Homeschooling 23 Comments
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