Sunday, September 30, 2018

The addition of "Blame it on the ADD": Branding

I created this blog years ago, but I didn’t really know where to take it...  Or why anyone would want to read it. I thought the title was clever. Misadventures of the Little Bird...I am (obviously) the Little Bird.  As the youngest of the Bird family, that made sense on it’s own, but, ironically, my first name means Little Birdie.  My life with my family was marked with unusual twists and unexpected situations...we seemed to attract WTF situations where ever we went.  

I had thought that perhaps I would use this blog as a means of chronicling those WTF moments.  But as you can see from my previous entries, I had no idea what to actually write about. “Falling on my face” is not entertaining; lamenting about loneliness isn’t very cool either.  As an adult I still find myself in crazy situations, but without my family I’m less often stranded in questionable places or wondering how I’m gonna “get out of this one.” When I originated this blog I hadn’t yet realized that my choices were leading me to a relatively safer life.  But a safer life meant less material to write about. I was stuck.

Despite my lack of dangerous situations and writers block, my life continues to play out like a daytime drama.  “What’s new today??” How many times have I been told that I “certainly live an interesting life”? Far too many.   My friends often joke that they don’t need TV, they just need an update on my life.

You see, I’m the kind of person who jumps in head first.  I wanna learn everything about ...well.. Everything.   I’m interested in just about everything and have chased many contrasting monetary ventures.  In my youth, I was single minded. I was going to be a professional singer. Period. End of story.  I did some writing and modeling, and kept a boring day job to pay the bills, but I knew my goal, and kept my eye on the prize.  I was doing very well.

And then ….My brother’s very public and disgraceful arrest and conviction for heinous crimes stopped me in my tracks and sent me into a full out mental and emotional break down.  By the time I emerged from that, I had laid my music industry dreams to rest. I didn’t want to be famous anymore, I just wanted to have an income, homeschool my kids, and keep us all safe.

That’s when my life really took on the attributes of a pinball game.  I cocktailed until I realized it it made me type A dominant and a little bit ruthless.  I didn’t like that. I worked on marketing for a golf professional, but it conflicted with homeschooling.  I considered starting a bed and breakfast, but lacked the capital. I babysat, but when I had to downsize into a 28’ travel trailer that became unsustainable.  We moved onto a farm and I learned everything I could about chickens, permaculture and mushrooms to list a few. That venture played out much differently than I’d hoped.  I thought I’d tap into my modeling background and start a business that connected local models to local boutiques. I got distracted…. Writer. Virtual Assistant. Freelance Office Assistant. Amazon seller without a niche. Residential Cleaner. Handyman.  I could build furniture! Maybe I should try beekeeping???

I gravitate to fields that provide me with variation, change and hands on work.  I don’t really want to bounce around from job to job, but I also want to find something that really works.  Currently I work as a Handyman and am collecting investments. I can feel myself starting to get bored with construction, so I need to double down on investing.  Because, what I’ve realized of late is that this habit of pinballing from field to field is characteristic of adult ADDers. Not all adult ADDers do this, but I’ve learned that it’s common. We need stimulation. We seek out adventure.  We get bored easily. In other words, I’m always going to to want to try something new.

I take heart though, for Scott Adams says that he’s a firm believer that people should try everything that interests them.  “If your current get-rich project fails, take what you learned and try something else. Keep repeating until something lucky happens. The universe has plenty of luck to go around; you just need to keep your hand raised until it's your turn. It helps to see failure as a road and not a wall,” he says. “Every skill you acquire doubles your odds of success.” And he notes of his own success: “One strategy for getting ahead is being incredibly good at a particular skill; you need to be world-class to stand out for that skill. In my case, I layered fairly average skills together until the combination became special.”  If you are like me and constantly searching for a fulfilling and successful venture, I recommend Adams’ book “How to Fail at Everything and Still Win Big”.  It will keep you laughing while providing a wealth of information.

They say it requires a minimum of 10,000 hours to become an expert at something.  It sounds kind of dismal when I think about it. I’ve spent 10,000 hours being an ADD human pinball… does that count?

Gary Vaynerchuk, an intense businessman and public speaker, is all about branding. “You have to understand your own personal DNA. Don’t do things because I do them or Steve Jobs or Mark Cuban tried it. You need to know your personal brand and stay true to it.”  My own personal DNA?? My ADD DNA? “There no longer has to be a difference between who you are and what you do.” “No matter what you do, your job is to tell your story.”  And if anyone knows how to make a successful life out of nothing, it’s him.  In his book “Crushing It” (another book I suggest you read), Gary also recommends chronicling the learning process, as it helps your customers/followers get to know you and your personal brand all the better.

So that’s what I’ve decided to do.  I’m gonna share my ADD life with you.  Here on Misadventures of the Little Bird we’ll follow my pinball life.  I’m adding the tag “Blame it on The ADD” to the title as of this post. I hope that you enjoy the show!

Thursday, December 6, 2012

I danced today.  With two little girls and a little boy.  The music was live good, tight bluegrassy soul.  It was pure delight.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Perks of Falling on your Face

I'm one of those clumsy people that is forever tripping over my own feet.  Yesterday (no lie) I tripped into a road and also on a busy sidewalk with laughing college students all around, and I even tripped up a set of stairs at work in front of several tables.  That was the worst of them.  I literally caught myself two inches from my nose crashing into the floor of the deck.  On the positive side, since it's cold and I work on a rooftop, it wasn't very busy.  There was a table of snooty girls that the other server was taking care of, and then there was my group of ladies lounging on the couches, which was just closing out.
Now from my table, the first lady that left gave me three cents on $14.37.   Yay.  I was expecting similar tips from the rest of the crew.  Yet, falling on my face seemed to change everything.  After I picked myself up, my ladies were very worried about me and expressed nearly excessive concern.  I laughed and blamed it on shoes that were falling apart.  (True...but I'm still uber clumsy.)  I returned with their credit cards and in proper server fashion thanked them for coming out and wished for their speedy return.
They'd all had only one drink through me since they'd gone to the bar for their first round.  I had done very little for them and hadn't even wowed them with my charm or knowledge of the city.  So, I was quite surprised to find that they'd all tipped me lavishly.  Not only that, but they called me back over, having decided to stay for one more round.  When they closed out for the second time the tips were equally impressive and they left with many thanks and well wishes.
Who knew that falling on your face could pay off so well?


Thursday, November 22, 2012

To all the Holiday Strays

Strays.  The holidays are full of strays.  In fact the two go hand in hand in my world.  There is no holiday without a stray in the Bird home.  Ever since my mom moved us to Virginia our home has been occupied during any day of celebration by friends less fortunate than us or separated from their families by distance of the land or heart.  Of course we don't just open the door for those we know.  We've had Egyptian exchange students, coach surfers and Appalachian Trail hikers.  We've had random refugees, extracted from broken down cars along side the highway.  We have our dear friends who are not lacking in love or companionship from their own families, yet still choose to share in the Bird family chaos of love.  As my former partner stated regularly, my family is crazy.  It's a fact.  But what we lack in propriety and "normalness" we make up for in adventure and passion.  Holidays within the walls of Birdston Manor are always an adventure... or always were anyway.  Of course then tragedy struck and stole away my brother.  Things change...

So here it is noon time on Thanksgiving and for the first time in my life I'm alone on a major holiday.  My children are enjoying the holiday with their father's family, while mine is strewn across the eastern seaboard and Michigan.  The partner I've shared the last few years with is no longer mine and is probably having a miserable time with his family.  So, I am alone and commiserating with the family best friend via text messaging.  I'd hoped I'd at least get to see him. But he also has found himself stranded in a strange place today, researching hemophilia inhibitors...or something like that.  Two years ago I noted that it was our turn to be the strays.  I guess we've got more time to serve in this role.  Oh, well far worse things could be taking place.

In fact, when I arrived in Roanoke on Sunday night, I realized that my key to my mother's apartment was somehow left behind in Charleston, SC.  For those of you not familiar, that's a six and a half hour drive! There was no chance of running back for it, so if I couldn't figure something out I would be seriously SOL for a week. Luckily my mother still lives her life taking in strays, so I was given entrance and saved from a week of sleeping in my car.  But, alas, a holiday without a friendly smile is a hard day to live.  Maybe by Christmas we'll be able to wrangle some other strays together and perhaps share a cup of cheer.  Today, I think, I'll just take another shot of whiskey.