Tag Archives: Groupon

Happy Boo-day To You

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16

I’ve noticed recently that time has stopped mattering so much to me.

I came to this conclusion when slipping into a comfy pair of pajama pants at 4:30 PM, when I’d just gotten home from picking the kids up from school. The sun was shining brightly through a scattering of clouds, giving me pause for a few seconds. It’s not like it’s the middle of December and the sun has already set; we’ve got a good 90 minutes before it sinks below the horizon this time of year. In the end, I just shrugged my shoulders and put ‘em on, which is kinda pathetic in the sense that it means I’ve got no life – obviously I was neither expecting company nor planning on going out, settling in for the evening when it was still technically late afternoon. At the same time, it made me feel a bit rebellious. Sorta like James Dean. The only things missing were the motorcycle and the cigarette dangling from my lips. And the jeans, I suppose, because I doubt very much ol’ JD ever rode while wearing pajama pants. It was more like I was channeling the essence of rebellion.

It’s liberating not being a slave to the clock. I used to wait until 5:00 to pour myself a drink. Now, if 4 PM rolls around – or, I daresay, 3:45 – and I want a gin and tonic, then I’m heading straight for the liquor cabinet. And I’m probably wearing pajama pants, too.

Screw convention.

The same applies to showering, shaving, going to bed, waking up. Granted, on the weeks when Rusty and Audrey are with me, there is by necessity some semblance of a routine. I can’t be quite the free spirit I am on the kid-free weeks. But there is a lot of room for flexibility, even then. This laissez-faire lifestyle suits me. All my life, I’ve been the most organized and scheduled person in the world. It feels good to let loose and ignore the clock. Being divorced and unemployed gives me a ton of freedom, and I’m happily gobbling it up.  I guess that’s why freelancing appeals to me so much. I work when I want to work, instead of being boxed into some 8-to-5 corporately defined window of productivity. Man, if I ever do end up in a “real” job again, it’s going to be quite an adjustment.

Speaking of, I finally heard back from Matt, the Groupon recruiter I’d been working with, on Wednesday morning. The news was not good. Though he called me “a very talented writer,” he said the writing committee “went in a different direction” and “chose another candidate.” I was pretty surprised – not because I think I’m the bee’s knees or anything (what the hell does that even mean? Last I checked, bees don’t have knees, and if they did, they’d be small and inconsequential, anyway – hardly worth the buzz), but his feedback had been very positive throughout the process and he loved several of the jokes I’d used in my sample write-ups. It was a real disappointment, not because I am in love with Groupon (although, as fate would have it, I purchased a Groupon that very morning – $12 for $25 worth of vinyl at a record shop in Portland) or took it as a personal rejection. It’s just that, I had been *this* close to having a bit of financial security, with a steady gig that would have guaranteed me a salary close to what I was earning before. I’d have been able to breathe more comfortably, but now I suddenly find myself back at square one, relying on unemployment checks that barely cover the basics, and watching my cash on hand dwindle away to nothing. I experienced a crisis of faith that day, and wondered for awhile, “what am I going to do now?” I was in a pitiful mood, feeling sorry for myself. Not a pretty picture at all. Luckily, I have a supportive group of friends who reminded me that this was just a minor setback and it doesn’t mean I have to give up on my dream. So, of course, I won’t. I’ll just redouble my efforts and try that much harder. I’ve always been good at bouncing back from rejection – sometimes it just takes me a day or so to find my groove again. There are other Groupons out there – I just need to find them. Or a “real” job as a writer. One way or another, it’ll happen. Mark my words.

But onto funner topics. Yes, I realize “funner” ain’t a word. Ain’t ain’t, either. But they both should be.

The other day I wrote about my ghost-hunting friend, Steven. And this picture that he showed me. I won’t go into the whole story again, but basically he was given a photograph that purports to show the spirits of a baby’s grandparents who were hovering, transparent, in the background during the child’s first birthday. The grandfather had died not long before, and promised that he wouldn’t miss his grandchild’s first birthday. Steven sent me a copy of the picture, and here it is.

Check out the transparent figures to the baby's right.

As I stated in my last post, I am not saying this photograph is real. Steven is the first to admit that you can never fully trust a picture that was handed to you by another person. As much as I’d like to believe, this one seems too good to be true. But who knows? I refuse to declare it an outright fake. I have seen, with my own eyes, things that could not be explained, as anybody who read about my ghostly encounter can attest. Here are the facts that were presented about this photo: it was taken on a disposable camera that had never been used before, which means the image can’t simply be attributed to a double exposure. Furthermore, the camera was purchased after the grandfather passed away. Family members insist the man in the photo, clearly wearing glasses, is the grandfather. The other figure is harder to make out (because a friggin’ chair is hiding her face), but they’re assuming it was the grandmother. Either that, or gramps is tapping some heavenly bodies in the afterlife.

I leave you with that. I won’t say any more about the photo – you can make up your own mind about its authenticity. If nothing else, it’s intriguing to look at. And now, just for fun, let’s get interactive! I’m curious about whether or not you believe in ghosts, and have set up a fun little poll. Feel free to click away, and please let me know what you think about the picture.

Champagne Wishes on a Sparkling Water Budget

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16

With my finances suddenly dwindling, I’ve found myself cutting more corners lately. Gone are the extravagant weekly steak and lobster dinners. I no longer take the Maserati through the car wash, I scrub it with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge myself. Worst of all, I had to fire the maid (although really, she wasn’t doing that great a job – I caught her parked on the sofa watching “Days Of Our Lives” instead of washing the windows one day last week, and the writing has pretty much been on the wall since).

French maid

I had to let her go. Her dusting skills left much to be desired. (Courtesy of ideagrove.com).

And then you woke up, as a friend used to chide me whenever I’d veer off into Fairytaleland.

OK, fine, I don’t have those types of extravagances in my life. But I would if I could. I’ve always had expensive tastes and longed for the finer things in life. I like stuff. Mostly electronic or cutting-edge. It’s why I bought a DVD player when they first came out. Shelled out $500 for it, too. I cringe whenever I think about that now, but hey, at least I was the first person on my block to have one! I guess I was what you’d call an “early adopter” back then. I was also married, and there’s a lot to be said for two incomes. Not to mention high-paying jobs with nice bonus checks twice a year. My, how times have changed.

And in truth, I’ve changed, too. I joke around and say I’ve got champagne wishes and a sparkling water budget, but really…I don’t. When people ask me what my dream car is, I say a 1972 Volkswagen Bus. Which means either I’m a hippie at heart, or I’ve turned into Lester Burnham, and if the latter is the case, better lock up your daughters, I suppose. Seriously, even if I had money to spend, I wouldn’t bother with a fancy sports car or a Rolex or any of the other trappings of the rich and famous. Except the maid. She’d be a worthwhile investment. I like to think that I’ve mellowed with age and gotten more in touch with my blue-collar side.

Which is why I find myself making frequent trips to Value Village (a poor man’s Goodwill, if such a thing exists) and Grocery Outlet. I’ve been a connoisseur of garage sales for years, and no longer think twice about buying somebody else’s hand-me-downs. Half my townhouse is furnished with used goods. I had always drawn the line at clothes, however. There was something, umm, icky – for lack of a better word (and because “repulsive” sounds too crass) – about buying, and wearing, clothing that somebody else had worn previously. The last thing in the world I want is to wear a shirt that some fat guy sweated in. So imagine my surprise earlier today when my feet apparently developed a mind of their own and shuffled over to the clothing section of Value Village. I don’t know what possessed me to make my way over there, but suddenly I found myself browsing the racks and actually finding things I liked and wanted to wear. It didn’t matter that another human had once worn them and did god-knows-what in them, the $2.99 price tag on that green flannel shirt was too damn good to resist, so I quit trying and bought it.

I think this was a breakthrough moment in my life. Now that I have crossed a line I never imagined I would, the sky’s the limit, I suppose. I foresee frequent future forays for flannel and other fashions, friends. There’s no going back. I shall peruse the used clothing aisles on every trip henceforth.

I still draw the line at underwear, though. {Shudder}.

I probably wouldn’t bother with used clothes if I were still gainfully employed, so in some perverse way I’m glad I’m not raking in the dough. Humbleness is a good lesson to learn. I feel more in touch with the common man. Err…because I am the common man…anyway. You get the point.

I have a few things simmering on the burner freelance-wise. I sure hope they come to fruition, because I’ve reached the stage where I could definitely use some money. I am still working through the application process with Groupon; I’ve gotten good feedback on my write-ups but they decided to give me a fourth sample article, which is due tomorrow, to ensure that I continue to display their “voice” and style in my writing. I have to say the whole thing has been arduous, but I’m glad for that – this is a company that cares about their image and demands top-quality writing from their freelancers, so if I make it through I’ll feel confident that I’ve joined a team of creative, dedicated and hard-working writers. They’re not just handing me the job on a silver platter but making me earn it, and that’s great. Well, it’s only great if I get it, but still. I’ve also applied for a couple of other gigs, one of which pays quite well and would allow me to tap into my love for Portland, so fingers crossed.

In addition, I decided to go for broke and start e-mailing queries to every last agent in my guidebook yesterday. My novel is my baby and I feel like I’ve been neglecting her. Well, no longer. I sent out 32 in a single day. One agent already responded with some pretty helpful feedback which, unfortunately, would mean making some changes to the first chapter or two. I haven’t decided if I’m going to do this yet or which angle to take, but it’s food for thought. My dream has always been to become a published author.

A published, used clothing-wearing author, apparently.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

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I broke up with somebody this morning.

We hadn’t been together long – just a couple of months – and I suppose our relationship was like so many others. It burned with a white-hot intensity and passion at first, but the novelty wore off quickly. Our 7 encounters a week dwindled to 4, and before long, even that felt like too many. Ours was no longer a mutually beneficial union. I put a lot of hard work and effort into our relationship, and while I know the other person was pleased with my performance, I myself began to dread the monotony. In fact, I started to feel used. Even though I was getting paid – hey, these talents ain’t free! – it wasn’t nearly enough to justify the time and effort I was putting into the relationship. I began to long for others, ones less demanding and more appreciative of my skills. I found another, through an ad on Craigslist, and began doing that one, too. And then I sought out a third.

No, this isn’t some sordid tale straight out of a trashy made-for-cable-television movie.

Unfortunately.

I’m referring to my freelance writing. Back in December, when I first embarked upon this adventure, I picked up a client who hired me to produce a batch of SEO articles every week. I was thrilled at first, and plunged into the work with gusto. Before long, however, it became tedious. I was responsible for seven articles a week, and that first month they all involved writing about car insurance. There are only so many different topics one can come up with relating to auto insurance, and believe me, I covered them all. Again and again. Just when I finally got used to that topic, they switched me over to kitchen cabinet doors. There are even fewer topics to write about for that subject. At that point they cut their writer’s assignments down to four a week, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I picked up a second client and found their how-to articles and topics considerably more interesting. For one thing, I got to choose the topics I’d write about. For another, they paid more. Still, I continued writing for my original client, out of a sense of duty and obligation, even though the return on my investment was minimal. And then, two weeks ago, they switched things up again and my new area of “expertise” became steel buildings.

Throwing it all away is tough to do! (Courtesy of mediabistro.com).

I couldn’t take it any longer. I found myself knocking out all four articles in a single day just to get them over with. Worse, they were eating into my valuable time, which could have been spent on the better-paying and more intellectually stimulating how-to articles instead. Factor in this opportunity with Groupon, and suddenly I knew it was time to cut my ties with them. So this morning I fired off a very polite e-mail, thanking them for the opportunity and letting them know that the experience was invaluable and I couldn’t have landed other clients without it, but I had to focus on other opportunities now since this is my sole source of income and blah, blah, blah. It was a very nice breakup letter, trust me. Their response?

Because you did not give us the required notice, you will not be eligible to work with us in the future.

Ouch. I had no idea there was any sort of notice required when severing ties – nothing was ever mentioned to me in the beginning. It appears somebody was taking this breakup rather poorly.

So help me, if I come home one afternoon and find a rabbit boiling away in a pot on my stove…

…well, I guess I won’t have to worry about dinner that night.

But also, I’ll be really freaked out and scared.

I wrote back and said I’d had no idea they liked to have a notice, and they told me two weeks was appreciated so they could reallocate their articles and continue to meet their client’s needs seamlessly, and I get that, I really do. I started to feel bad about the whole thing and almost volunteered to keep writing for another couple of weeks…but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. These articles are that mind-numbingly soul-sucking.

I was chatting with a friend about this whole thing earlier today. She asked, Are you concerned about being ineligible to work with them again?

My response? No, not at all…but I am concerned with developing a professional image.

Which is true. As corny as it sounds, I want my name to mean something out there. I want it to stand not only for quality work, but also for dedication and commitment. The whole thing has turned into a bit of an uncomfortable and sticky little mess, but I’ll just have to deal with any potential fallout and move on. All the freelance books I’ve read say you’ve got to know how to best allocate your time and can’t be afraid to say “no” to people. Today was all about me, saying “no.”

As for Groupon, things continue to move forward. I submitted my third and final sample article today, and will have feedback on it tomorrow. Matt – the recruiter I’m dealing with – said “this is your last, best chance to shine before you are evaluated by the writing committee.” Err…there’s a writing committee that will be checking out my work and making a final decision?! Yikes. I’m more nervous than ever now. I think I’ve done enough to impress them – Matt’s reaction to my first two articles was positive – but without hearing back on the third yet, and knowing it’s up to a bunch of strangers now, who knows?

On a completely unrelated note, yesterday I went back to my old place of employment to visit with my former coworkers and friends. First time I’d been back since that fateful day in late October when I walked out the door for the last time. It was a little surreal, walking into the lobby and seeing a stranger – albeit a hot one – sitting behind the reception desk where Kristy belonged. “Oh, she’s up in customer service now,” I was told. I signed into the log book, was handed a visitor’s badge, and then – because it was obvious everybody knew me, judging by the greetings I was receiving from people walking by – the hot new receptionist gave me free reign of the building. I ended up staying two hours, and it was great seeing all those familiar faces again. I shook a bunch of hands, doled out a lot of hugs, and recounted my unemployment journey thus far ad nauseum. Walking around the place I’d worked for more than six years felt familiar and comfortable, and by the time I left, I was feeling more than a little nostalgic for the past.

But then, as soon as I got back home and walked through the door, I remembered how much I prefer being my own boss instead, and felt a lot better about things.

Please Don’t Buy Me a Star

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Last year, I subscribed to Groupon because I’d heard people talking about the really good deals you could find on there. I have to admit, there are some real bargains; I’ve purchased a couple of restaurant Groupons myself. But there are some real head-scratchers, too. Take yesterday’s Daily Deal for Portland: for $29 you can dedicate a star to somebody and name it after them (a $79 value, so you’re saving 63%). Just between you and me, I think this whole star-naming thing is a scam. Because really, is the International Astronomical Union going to refer to PSR J1302-6350 as “Sally Snugglepuss” if somebody coughs up the dough for those naming rights? I highly doubt it. It’s a romantic idea in theory, but when you get right down to brass tacks, not so much. You are basically comparing your loved one to a hot ball of gas, right? One whose midsection will keep expanding the older it gets until one day it explodes, raining fiery death down upon anybody unfortunate enough to be close by.

Oh, baby. How sweet of you.

Besides, how does a company “own” a star in the first place? That’d be like me selling individual grains of sand on a public beach. (Hmm…). Plus, there is more than one star-naming registry out there. How do we know that Sally’s star doesn’t already “belong” to Herbert in Idaho Falls or Trudy in Tallahassee? I can see fistfights breaking out over celestial property rights.

Naming Stars

"Look, honey - I picked that one out just for you!" (Courtesy of liveinternet.ru).

I don’t want a star named after me, even if the intentions are good. Because with my luck, that star would be home to some advanced alien race who decides to invade earth one day, and when they land, if the star charts show I’m the owner, those bug-eyed green monsters are going to come a-knockin’ on my door, just you watch. And they won’t be delivering a package.

So, if anybody is thinking about doing this for me, kind gesture aside – thanksbutnothanks. (I will, however, gladly take an iPad if you are still in a “giving” mood).

Hey, speaking of Groupon…

I love reading their daily deals. They are chock full of the wittiest prose this side of Orion’s belt (in keeping with the celestial theme). Their ads are creative, clever, and rely on bizarre imagery and wacky, unexpected metaphors to drive the point home. I daresay, they entertain, which is why I look forward to seeing them land in my In Box every morning. And also why, a few months ago, I had a conversation with my girlfriend regarding Groupon. “I’d love to write for them,” I said. “Their sense of humor is just like mine.”

So, when I opened a Groupon e-mail in the beginning of January and saw an ad for Freelance Writers, I eagerly clicked on the link. The application process involved writing a sample article for a sea kayak company in Georgia, submitting a cover letter and resume, and then waiting to hear back while they sifted through hundreds of applicants. I had nearly given up hope – after all, four weeks had gone by with nary a word – but I would occasionally check on the status of my application and as long as it read “In process” I figured I had a chance. Then, last Friday, I finally heard back from one of the Groupon editors. His e-mail was encouraging. I read your sample carefully and found a lot to like about it, and a number of elements that I think we can build on. I’d like to talk to you further about the humor and mechanics you displayed in your writeup, and how we can work together to make it adhere more closely to the Groupon voice.

Whoo-hoo! He set up a phone interview for yesterday afternoon, leaving me cautiously optimistic. We chatted for a few minutes about my freelance writing experience, how I came across the ad, and why I decided to apply. Then he critiqued my sample literally word for word, which was a bit humbling, but he was very positive about my writing. Said I “made an assertion and then delivered a classic 1-2-3 punch” in my opening paragraph while maintaining the trademark Groupon “absurdist, offbeat humor.” He told me I had a firm grasp of the mechanics of their writing style and had clearly given thought to the structure and voice they aim for. My sample wasn’t perfect – he warned me to avoid hyperbole and let the jokes come out of the humor rather than vice-versa – but overall he was pleased enough to invite me to continue through the application process. Which is rather stringent. I’ll have to prove myself through three additional sample articles, continuing to demonstrate the qualities and characteristics they are looking for while showing growth, and then they will make a decision. So it’s by no means a done deal, and I hope I’m not jinxing my chances by writing about it here, but I feel pretty confident in my abilities and will give these samples (for which they are paying me, so it’s a win-win no matter what happens) my complete focus. The first one is due by Friday morning, but I hope to have it back to them by the end of the day.

This is very exciting to me, because it’s the big freelance opportunity I have been waiting for – a chance to show off my creative skills for a well-known and fast-growing company who will pay me a much better per-article price than I’m earning anywhere else. Groupon freelancers can choose to write between ten and twenty articles a week, and he said each one takes the average writer about an hour to complete (pretty much the same amount of time I’m spending on my other articles). He asked what I thought my commitment would be, and I told him I’d be comfortable doing a full load of twenty. That’s a twenty-hour workweek, which gives me another twenty hours (if I’m thinking in terms of a “traditional” 8-5 job) to work on other projects. The Groupon gig alone would net me more than I’m earning through unemployment, so I would officially stop filing claims and wouldn’t have to worry about meeting Washington’s three-job-contacts-a-week requirement. Add in additional income from my other gigs, and suddenly I am earning the same amount I was from my last job at KNA, but doing it on my own terms and in the comfort of my own home.

Again, not counting my chickens before they’re hatched, but I can’t help feeling a little bit optimistic these days. Things seem to be looking up. While the company I interviewed with last week hasn’t called me back – thanks again, universe! – I did win my battle against the state and am free to work in self-employment and still earn benefits.

I’m just hoping I won’t need to do that much longer.