Periscope vs Meerkat : A Battle of the Titans

So, what’s my peer group have to say about #Meerkat vs #Periscope at this point?

I have done both so far, one with a product launch in Missouri (Meerkat and a very creative team) and a Periscope last week in New York City in a very much less creative team.

The results seem to show that Meerkat gave it a much stronger background to users, less hefty user requirements that ban creativity, and showed users a simple platform that would allow them to dominate the market;

The problem I face as a brand isn’t me (Jenn). It’s those that feel we need to comply to a certain standard in a marketing world that would lead to Twitter’s domination of said video UG market and how we use it going forward.

In my opinion, there is no curbing the user, Rules & Regulations have gone the way of the dodo… and trying to contain our conversations based on strict campaign guidelines, rules & regulations will leave us only into temptation ; the kind the company will not want for.

It comes down to David & Goliath. Will Twitter push Periscope for all video attempts on its platform or allow for multiple vendors to give it a whirl before deciding which will perform best?

ISIS

As much as I read about ISIS, I find it hard to believe that so many people can adhere to their doctrines.. It reminds me of Nazi Germany.. are these poor fools so ignorant as to what is happening or is it a culture issue?

Women and children are at stake here. They are led to believe this is the way the world needs to be, but as all dictatorships, they are fed information they need to digest.. and therefore be a promoter of.

I thank my lucky stars I was born where I was and wish they had the same chance at choice in their lives

The makers of WordPress learned years ago that the ultimate office perk is not having an office

How very true… times have changed and getting marketed to can be a painful process..

Sailing… and the unexpected….

I finally finished my 3 day course in ASA 101 and feel like I learned a new language. I am now able to tie a knot, learn to jibe, tack and realized just how much the sea is at one with a boat. OK, the the course I went through was a 101 for a 20-25 footer boat and my boyfriend has a boat triple that size, but still, knowing that I can handle certain knots, raise lines, and help out on deck was a HUGE deal. Now I can somewhat proudly say that I can help on a sail boat, versus sit there and look dumb as everyone scrambles around me and gets the real work done.

Tomorrow’s task will be to wax the boat. After all of the black and blues I got from last week-end just picking up logs and branches, I fear for the worst. I hear waxing is a painstaking, elbow jerking activity…. and although my better half could easily find someone to do it for him for a cost, we spend the time to do it ourselves. In that way, I feel one with the sea.

An Alden 52 is no joke. This boat is massive and when I realize what I am getting into, I wonder if I can handle the job.  Sometimes I wish golf was just the hobby… so much easier to handle and navigate!

Spring is finally here in New England and it feels like a breath of fresh air. So much to do, so little time. I’m joining a 100 mile bike race  end of September (not having a road bike mind you) and looking to buy one tomorrow. This should be an interesting experience : especially when your other half says he needs your ring finger size to determine which bike to use…. hmmmm…. something sounds out of whack to me. Girls, whaddya think?

Either way, this season sounds promising. So much fun outside, riding bikes, sailing along the coastline, learning new hobbies and meeting new people. It’s like I have waited 38 years for this to happen and it’s finally coming into place. Like a puzzle I am finally figuring out which part fits what. Which makes me want to say to any woman out there : be strong, resilient, live your life independently and never trust a man to make your destiny. If he is right for you, the time will come. It took me a long time to get here but I think I’m at that tipping point (Gladwell’s book — thank you for the reference).

Time to pack up and make it to our “home”. One day I may be able to take those quotation marks out of the sentence. Either way, I’ve had a ball getting here.

Boats, Sailing and the Big Blue Ocean

So, here I am, on my first of 3 days of ASA certification towards becoming a sailor in the American Sailing Association 101 class.

To those unfamiliar with boating terms, it’s like learning an entirely new language. Rigs, Bows, Starboard, Leeward, Masts, Booms …… and tons and tons of knots. I feel like I am in kindergarden again, learning to tie my shoes again, but this time in the most complicated manner possible. It’s like one of those Chinese riddles… everytime you think you get it right, one loop is out of whack and your instructor looks at you like you have 3 heads and a bad attitude. Add to that my own personal sarcasm (let’s JIVE versus Jibe) and all hell breaks loose. But what the heck, it was a gorgeous day on the bay, and we had a blast.

Being in the Ocean State is what it’s all about. I’ve spent 8 years here never knowing the pleasure of sailing. Motor boats were the coolest thing in my mind, until I realized that it takes little to no skill to own one. Sailing on the other hand, is being alert at all times, checking for wind direction, other boats, waves, directions…. and this incredible silence with the waves drifting against the boat as you maneuver through the ocean. You learn to spot the things you never even though of : how the flags sail, the signals on the water, the smell of the ocean, the calmness that surrounds you.

It’s surreal. I have always known I had to live in a place near the ocean. Not a lake, not a sea…. but a vibrant ocean that sucks you in and reminds you that you are a tiny dot on the map of life and that you cannot conquer her : she will conquer you if you’re not attentive.

Besides almost getting hit by the boom a dozen times on this 20 footer, the experience was mind boggling. It just felt right. I hear sailors are born sailors. Somewhere, I lost my calling and should have done this ages ago. When I look back on where I have lived, I realize I was never happier than when the ocean greeted me from afar, whether I went to the beach, sailed or not. It’s alive and calls to me like no other element has. The water soothes, but it bewitches.

I think I’m hooked. Hooked, line and sinker.

Day 2 tomorrow – stay tuned for more action!

Shopping nightmare

So I am one of those odd girls that *hates* shopping. And I mean it.

Whether it be clothes, food, or anything else, I get antsy around people in the store and just want to buy my stuff and get the hell out of there.

Today was another epic journey : how to run a marathon in Stop n’ Shop in less than 30 mins with all of the goods I had to buy (of course, I only go when the cat food is out and everything else is out of stock).

I frantically raid the shelves, don’t pay attention to prices, get to the counter as fast as possible and it just feels like the nightmare is over. Until they ask you for their ‘preferred card’. So I spend a minute rooting for my card to hand over to them and the more I wait, the more impatient I get.

I read a blog post on WordPress about someone being homesick. I think I’m “shoppingsick”. If you can get me in and out in less than 10 minutes, I would applaud your reward with multiple gifts. Unfortunately, you have to spend time behind the EBT holders, those that can’t find their cards, and those that frankly cannot figure out the Debit feature on the little screen.

Enough to make you want to go postal. The good news is that I have stuff to live with for a few weeks at least and will be traveling, so hopefully I can avoid screaming children in Aisle 2  and peeps walking in Snoopy pajamas thinking they’re the bomb.

Thank God. 2 more weeks of avoidance 🙂

Remembering the little things

Remember when you could walk anywhere and play anywhere under the age of 10 without your parents hovering over you to make sure some weird stalker wasn’t tracking you down?

I think the worst thing I ever heard (and the only time my parents got concerned) was around Halloween time when we were given candy : there was a rumor that some people were putting razors in the candy, so we would have to check the candy out before we could eat it.

My best costume had to be when I was Raggedy Ann and Andy was Raggedy Andy. We scored big time on treats that year. I feel like Halloween had a special feeling to it and less commercial than it is today. Maybe because I don’t have kids, but it just feels like everything is always about money now. I mean… seriously…. if you don’t gift at Christmas (regardless of whether you’re Christian or not), you get “that” look. You know the look. The Scrooge in me battles gifting for the hell of gifting. If I want to, I’ll shower those I love. For others, formalities are not my thing.

Does anyone even eat Red Hots anymore? Remember those gigantic cinnamon balls you could get at 2 cents a piece and could choke on in a minute flat? Your whole mouth would turn this ugly red color and I don’t EVEN want to know what was in those. I blame a few cavities and broken teeth from those monsters.

Remember when everyone was skinny and actually sat down at a table to eat? I’m the first to admit I don’t do it anymore, but family time used to be golden. No leaving the table, no tantrums, and a swat on the butt was common if you didn’t follow the rules. To this day, I think people have gone completely insane in this country on ‘protecting’ their kids.

There’s my rant for the day.  #liveitup

Random Memory… worth thinking of

I was at a party with my 5 housemates (all Air Force guys) back in the early 90s. These guys would have D&D nights, drinking nights and basically I was pretty much a friend (and outsider) to this community. I had my own room, but would frequently find it shared by some random stranger that parked in the bed without my approval due to lack of space

The first guy was a douche. He was a DJ on a country station, pretended to pay our electricity bills while he went to town and bought whatever he wanted. When we finally figured this out, all of of us disbanded. The 2nd was a truthful guy : someone I thought I felt in love with (although I had no idea what love was at the time) and he moved early on to Korea. Our 3rd roommate ended up getting married, and the 4th dropped out and went back to Idaho or Ohio (I can’t remember) to live the rest of his life out.

Of all of these guys, I would have to say I was the most successful. I started with a horrible past (college drop out), meeting far too many men, being a  trash white girl that was only looking for someone to be with. I had no future, no life.

Yet. at some point, I decided to leave. Probably after throwing my first at our largest roommate twice and then his car, to find myself in the hospital explaining that my 3 broken bones that were qualified as a breaker’s break were due to a “fall on the driveway”. Of course, the doctor never believed it, but I found myself in a cast and realized I couldn’t live this way anymore.

I found a halfway house (between a prostitute and a homeless alcoholic) and lived on Ramen Noodles for 2 years before I found out my French grand father had died.

Mom called me and asked me to come to France for the funeral. At this point, I was 121 pounds at 5ft10 and had been refused for recruitment in the Air Force due to the lack of pounds I had on me. Perhaps that saved me: all I wanted to do was to become a KC-135 pilot to refuel B-52s  in flight.

The death of Grand–Pere made me realize I was wasting my life away and I became adamant on becoming someone someone could be proud of.  I worked my 12 hour shifts, did what I could do to prove I was worth it and ultimately was able to achieve what I am today. Wiuthout the will, the emotional backing of my grand parents, I am not sure I would be where I am today. but I thank them from the bottom of my heart. Je vous aime.

What the F…..

I’ve been in this dream world with a man that says he wants kids, live in a happy home, yet spends his time texting and doesn’t want to meet me.

So I continue on my way. Next step is Paris, then Amsterdam for a week of work/pleasure. A few weeks later, I will be on a plane to Las Vegas and most likely another plane to Orlando a few weeks after that.

I understand he’s scared. After all, he’s 48, wants kids and never wants to imagine divorce. But texting isn’t the way to go about ‘observing’ a person, you need to see them and interact before you determine whether they are fit for you or not. Not to gloat, but I am a pretty damn good catch. Well into the 6 figures, no children, no exes, no baggage…. and yet I am ready to support what he has to deal in life.  Great: he has a great job that makes great money. Fantastic: he has a property he bought that most would kill for.

But my expectations are to find someone that loves me, adores me, and treats me like his woman. I can be the beer drinking, loud mouthed type as well, but I have found a way to use both my intellectual and my redneck roots to skill, so he will never be embarrassed. Instead, he is retreating into his family domain and not letting me in

This could be critical to a relationship that would have lasted and been fruitful. My gut feeling tells me he’s hiding something. What…. I don’t know.

A sadder childhood memory

As much as I loved Andy as a friend, his brothers were sometimes tough on me. As much as I was infatuated with Danny, there were many other brothers to contend with.

Michael was the oldest. He decided, at the ripe old age of 17, that it would be OK to ask an 8 year old to perform oral sex on him. Now, honestly, I cannot remember what age I was (between 6 and 9) but he would hide in the bushes and ask me to perform oral sex. He would call it a “lollipop” and tell me to grind it up and down.

This happened in the bushes behind his house and in the den when no one was around. I had no idea what to do at that age and was always instructed to follow adults so I tried to please him as best I could so I could go playing with Andy again.

Mom started using him as a babysitter for me, which turned into a nightmare. He would sit in front of the TV with his pants open and calling for me. I was terrified. I remember trying to read a paper (wall street journal?) and him saying “you can’t read that don’t give me that crap”.  Abuse would ensue.

One night, when I found out Michael would be babysitting, I had a fit (according to mom). I hid behind the kitchen table and said I could not do that. Maman’s reaction was immediate : she turned to Greg (Dad)  and said that something was wrong to and to cancel all plans

Thankfully this stopped the sexual harassment. Andy ended up getting married and having kids, but once I heard Michael had a girl ,I was extremely upset. I hope he doesn’t do the same he did to me…