On Monday, I decided to join most of the world and add a text messaging plan to my cell service. And somehow, while I was at AT&T doing that, I inexplicably decided to purchase an iPhone.
Today, I found out that the new version of the iPhone is slated to debut in just a few short weeks. My timing, as always, is impeccable.
But I’ve made my peace with it. Copy and paste would be nice – but my version is awesome enough. In fact, it’s so awesome that when the representative at AT&T loaded my contacts from my previous phone into the new one, it somehow managed to delete half of the people I used to date – including the person I called this past weekend and demanded to know what he has against weddings and why won’t he attend one with me in June.
“There’s going to be a buffet,” I told him. “What’s the matter? Do you hate buffets too?”
He claims he does not. But I think my iPhone is smart enough to know better.
Filed under: work | Tags: back-handed compliments, fashion, H&M, public relations, public speaking, Target, work
After watching me present 10 slides on small business growth today, a public speaking instructor told me “If that’s how you act when you’re excited, then I’d hate to see you when you’re disinterested.”
You’d think that would be the worst thing I ever heard after giving a presentation, but in fact it’s not: after participating in a panel discussion last October (and admittedly bombing my way through it), a woman from the audience told me, “You should have talked to people about how to dress for success. Because you really look nice. And I bet speaking about fashion would come very naturally to you.”
First of all, 90% of what I was wearing that day came from Target, so thank you. Second, the only time I don’t want to hear that someone thinks I’m pretty is when I’m right in the middle of trying to say something important.
But six months later, I’ll admit she probably had a point because my presentation today was taped and I really do speak in a monotone and stand with one hand on my hip the whole time.
“There was one part – one glimmer of hope – where you kind of came alive,” the instructor said as he rewound the tape. “The part where you were telling a story about how that celebrity you were working with probably had a drug problem and needed to be yanked off the set. You had personality for that part.”
Imagine that. I come alive when making fun of others. Who would have known?
I guess I’ll have to bring that level of enthusiasm to all areas of my work.
Or maybe I’ll just Plan B it and become a discount fashion consultant. Because in the middle of the play back, someone told me that they liked my dress and it’s only from H&M.
