Those goddamn “morale-boosting” job reviews. Like this one: (Oh, definitely, definitely NSFW unless you work someplace just as bad already)
This post sponsored by my sense of outrage at one woman’s request to dumb down the internet for the sake of her nine-year-old, who certainly knows those words already and probably wouldn’t be shocked by the news that Mommy doesn’t control the whole world, although Mommy might.
Also: not the first time we’ve dealt with this.
Yeah, they weren’t so great. Nowadays you just go to Canadian Tire!
Another in our series of shockingly accurate internet quizzes. Why, I’ve even blogged about being a spotted horse before. I’d really rather be an Arabian, except for the inconvenience at US border crossings.
You Are an Appaloosa Horse |
|
You have an amazing endurance, and you can soldier on through almost anything. You’re one tough cookie. You are quite intelligent and resourceful. You enjoy solving problems, and you’ve definitely got some street smarts. You work hard and never give up. You are loyal and reliable… you always get the job done. |
What did I do today? You mean besides become enraged by Facebook? I spent the better part of an hour first trying to get it to accept an ad without churning, churning, churning, churning, finally had the brilliant idea to disable Adblocker, which was successful at getting it to finish churning, whereupon I moved on to the second step where I put in all the details about who I wanted the ad to be shown to (don’t worry, it wasn’t you; you’re smart enough to use Adblocker, like me, right?) and how much I wanted to pay and goddamn if it didn’t really, REALLY want me to pay in British Pounds and use Dawson, Yukon time.
I think Facebook must be secretly controlled by Richard Branson from an underground lair he has in Dawson, Yukon.
So! So I get through that part, I get through even the pricing part. There’s a part where you can set limits on how much you want to spend in a given day, and a place where you can say how many days you want the ad to run. Now, I figure you multiply the how much by the number and you get the total maximum cost for the campaign, right? Oh no, how could that be right? We’re talking about Facebook!
So you can pay via Visa, Mastercard, or Paypal. Yay, I have Paypal. So I click Pay By Paypal.
And it asks me for a credit card.
Sure, you can pay by Paypal. But not if you have to. It’s rather like the retail banking system, where anybody can get a loan as long as they can prove they don’t need it. What’s particularly annoying is, thanks to a couple of good months I actually have enough in my Paypal to pay for the whole campaign, even if it cost the maximum every damn day. I could pay for it right now, and they could just refund me the money it didn’t end up costing me. But will they? Nooooooo…
Anyway, Facebook sucks, which I’m sure is not news to you savvy readers.
What else did I do today? I’ve been astonishingly productive, and it’s obviously not ME, but some alchemical magic reaction between the Diet Coke and pasta salad left over from my birthday party along with the Evening Primrose that I’ve been trying to remember to take.
I did this:
Posted:
I also listed Blogging for Writers online workshop on (yes) the dreaded Facebook, so if you know any English-language based people who are interested in learning how to blog and use social media while improving their writing skills, pass the link along to them.
Made some aesthetic decisions about my new site at Making My Life which is a network of various social media platforms including audio, video, and blogging. I’ll be moving raincoastermedia over there and focusing more on my social media teaching and less on all the hyperlocal blogging that I’ve been doing such a bad job of.
Had to put out several fires, only one of which was mine. If anyone finds their life boring and staid, I have quite a collection of second and third-hand social media drama that you can take off my hands for free any time. Also, apparently an email went out saying my course on Social Media for Nonprofits was going to be fantastic (great, so far so terrific!) but alas, it also went on to say that there were several free places available. Guess what? Nobody wants to pay. The free spaces in my courses aren’t supposed to be for agencies on the Downtown Eastside, they’re for clients of the agencies: you know, poor people. I think I negotiated a compromise everybody can live with, but god help me, I didn’t get into this to give stuff away to the middle class. Also, BOB is charging me full price for the room anyway, so one free seat just evaporated so we can give the money to Shirley. All of which prompted the post outlining the social media scholarship policy. There, it’s in black and white!
Posted everything relevant from raincoaster media to the SMCYVR Facebook page and to the raincoaster media page itself. Sigh. At least THAT worked okay.
Deleted all the outdated emails from the Shebeen Club mailing list. Attempted to buy a Facebook ad for the Shebeen Club meeting but, crunching, crunching, crunching…gave up.
Promised this woman who messaged me on FB (it’s FB day, I swear; the CanadianPolice on Twitter just pinged me to complain how crazy things are lately, so it’s not just me or Vancouver, it’s everywhere) I’d read her MJ post (she was polite YAY and said she’d read mine, so reading hers was the least I could do, and she’s right about that) but OMG it’s a big one and I’m not sure I’ll get it all done today.
Bitched on Facebook about not being able to buy an ad on Facebook and promptly got two emails offering help. Problem appears to be solved, but I’m too sleepy to finish the job tonight and besides, the bank’s not open yet, it’s not even 7am.
Oh yes, sent three pitch letters to editors today. Sure, it’s spec work and probably free, but it’s ink and paper AND it’s tremendous profile-building. It’s nice to be able to put “President of SMCYVR” on an email. Which reminds me to put it in my signature too.
Tuned up the professional profile on raincoastermedia: what do you think?
What did I not get done? A podcast. Sometime between now and 7pm I’ve got to record and upload a podcast. It was an assignment I gave everyone last week in the Blogging for Writers online course, and the least I can do is try it myself! Wish me luck!
Will in all likelihood go for a walk/jog now, provided I can find my Zune, which is the only portable timekeeping device I have that still has a working battery.
Then: I will have a Martini and collapse. Yes, gin is not in the diet. But it’s very good for collapsing with. With which to collapse. Whatever.
Which reminds me, did I ever tell you that when The Sister and I were little, our parents used to go to Disney World every year? Yes, they did. And we didn’t. I think they took her once, but I could be misremembering. Maybe they just got her a nicer sweatshirt than they brought me. Ancient memories can play funny tricks.
Look, I was only little but even then I wondered if they weren’t going on sex tours or something instead of really going to Disney World, particularly given my mother’s fondness for NOT going on rides. All I know is, every year they came back with cheap tee shirts and bags and bags of grapefruit.
Yeah, they left a sour taste.
