Category Archives: Entertainment

Starstruck

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JayBaerFrom what I’ve heard, even the most popular movie stars turn bashful when they meet somebody whose work they admire. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself after sharing a silent flight with one of my own industry celebs.

I was boarding my flight in Chicago bound for Social Media Marketing World in San Diego, so I knew there was a pretty good chance that somebody on that flight was headed to the same destination. As I approached my cabin, there he was in the front row with his trendy black glasses and striped socks. I knew it was Jay Baer and I wanted soooo badly to let him know how much I was looking forward to hearing him speak the following day. As fortune would have it, the line halted and I was directly in front of him for a good 90 seconds. I whispered a few introductions in my head and they all sounded like stuttering gibberish, so I proceeded to my seat.

Kicking myself from the epic fail, I chose to share my experience with my Twitter followers, who I knew would understand the magnitude of my shame:

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Jessica Tiede @tiedejess Apr 7
Pretty sure I’m on a flight with @jaybaer but I’m too dorky to say hi. #smmw13

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I waited for a little empathy, but instead received the following in return:

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Austin Rogerson @austinrogerson 7 Apr
Make moves #jealousofyou “@tiedejess: Pretty sure I’m on a flight with @jaybaer but I’m too dorky to say hi. #smmw13”

MonikaRun @monikarun 7 Apr
@tiedejess @jaybaer ha! I love that you will tweet that, but won’t say hi in person. The joys of social media. #smmw13

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Did I just get called out for being lame?! Oh yeah, I got called out alright. Not cool. I needed to turn this day or ship or plane around and not let that happen again. I vowed to throw that shy girl back into my luggage and get my social on for the next three days. Couldn’t be happier that I did.

That night at the first networking event of the week, I introduced myself to more than a few social celebs, Jay Baer included. We talked, we drank, we danced…okay, maybe we just shook hands and I snagged a photo…but I overcame the bashful and was happier for it.

The silliness of it all is certainly not lost on me. I realize that these are just people with great ideas doing what I do, but doing it better and probably having done it longer than me. Doesn’t mean that there isn’t possibly maybe perhaps just one person out there who thinks I’m that cool too. Is there somebody out there who thinks I’m that cool? Don’t be shy now…speak up! Just kidding. Not really.

My second favorite thing about these three amazing days was knowing that I had made new friends and mentors who I could actually tap on the virtual shoulder and ask questions. Experts in the vast world of social media are willing to share what they know and spread the word. They are approachable and they are teachers.

My first favorite thing about these amazing three days was the tweet I received on the second day:

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Jay Baer @jaybaer 8 Apr
@tiedejess Drinks on me next plane!

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#boom

A lesson in Pokémon

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Noah’s homemade Pokémon cards.

My son is six years old and last week he developed a fascination for Pokémon trading cards. It came out of nowhere for us. Since the first day of school, our dinner conversations have revolved around Ninjago and Beyblade®. I know that Pokémon has been around for 15+ years, but I’ve just never understood the appeal. Have you seen these characters?! They look like a science project gone incredibly wrong…disgusting little alien bug monsters with names like Metachomp and Spineboil. Don’t trade your cards, kiddos, just give them away and never look back!

With a little influence from a group of kids at school, Noah decided that Pokémon was the key to recess entertainment. He had no cards to trade, however, and he never asked us to buy him a pack of cards. Instead, he sat down one night and started making his own Pokémon trading cards. He meticulously cut out rectangles of cardstock paper and he drew ugly creatures on each and every card. He gave them all names and assigned them each a super power. He made 37 cards! The next day, Noah came home from school and tearfully told his daddy that nobody wanted to trade with his homemade cards. In fact, the other kids called his cards “fake” and “stupid.” He was crushed, but I was truly annihilated as my heart broke for him.

Yesterday morning the mailman delivered 50 perfectly branded Pokémon cards, courtesy of my husband and a $7.00 eBay shopping spree. The cards went out to dinner with us last night. They were carefully placed on Noah’s headboard before bed. They almost went to church with us this morning. They’ve been sorted and counted and admired more than my Coach purse. Tomorrow they will make their first-grade recess debut.

What about the 37 homemade cards? Those will be stored away in Noah’s keepsake box and one day I will tell him the story of a little boy with creativity for miles and I hope he will be just as proud of those homemade cards as he was last week. Should we have bought him branded cards to make up for his disappointment? I have no frickin’ idea. Do I care? Not really.

My trash = your treasure, I

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Just one of the many tables filled with toys.

More than two full racks of clothes for kids organized by size and season!

Garage sale season has officially arrived as evidenced by the slew of signs on every corner in my small town. Do you love them or hate them? Do you find them dirty or intriguing? Do you stretch your neck when driving by in hopes of spotting that Blatz Beer sign you’ve been missing since you were 17? Or do you avoid them altogether for fear of finding that creepy plush Ronald McDonald doll that your mom taunted you with for years?

This very weekend I am playing hostess to the most epic of all Tiede garage sales. I have teetered down the attic steps with arms full of boxes, I have climbed up from the basement dragging comforters, luggage and home decor galore. But mostly, I have shed tears sorting through toys and clothes that my children have outgrown. As I mentioned in a previous blog, I welcome the maturing of my kids. I am not crying because they’ve outgrown the beautiful dresses and coolest toys ever. I’m crying because I’m cheap and I can’t believe we paid $25 for the Zhu Zhu Pet and Fun House that Noah played with for five minutes and now we’ll be lucky to sell for $2.00.

I’m so cheap, in fact, that I refuse to pay for a classified ad in the local newspaper. Do you know the going rate for classified ads? It costs $16 for 10 words and 60¢ for each additional word.  I can’t even get my street address and hours of operation in the ad for under $20 and that doesn’t allow me to begin describing the sheer awesomeness of my garage sale!

Then I remembered that I AM A DIGTAL MARKETER. I am a blogger. I am a tweeter. I am a Facebooker. I use Craig’s List. And I pin pins on Pinterest!

So I present to you, my faithful readers, a brazen and bold digital plug for the sale of my Tiede Treasures:

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

This Thursday beginning at 4:30pm sharp, you are all invited to attend the garage sale to end all garage sales. There will be more toys than FAO Schwartz. There will be baby essentials like wipe warmers, bouncy seats, and changing pads. There will be racks of clothes organized on hangers by size and season. There will be nursing pajamas with only minor Lansinoh stains…c’mon ladies, don’t judge — you know it’s inevitable. There will be a pink motorized jeep for your little princess. There will be an infant carrier for your newborn bundle of joy. There will be a Kelty backpack for your slightly older bundle of joy. There will be a One Step Ahead Sit n Stand stroller for your second bundle of joy. There will be home decor that I can no longer bear to look at on my walls and shelves, but there’s no shame in admitting that you can’t live without them. There will be beauty supplies. There will be one kick-ass pair of boots. There will be an interview-ready suit that I clearly don’t need because my job rocks. There will be kitchen rugs. There will be bathroom rugs. There will be shower curtains. Hey! I just realized that you can redecorate your entire bathroom at my garage sale!

Stop by and check out all of the goodies you will find in my garage and on my driveway this weekend. The children are not for sale, but almost everything else you see can be yours for a small price. The sale of my husband is negotiable.

Social Bowl XLVI

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I love social media. I love interacting with complete strangers on Twitter who teach me more about digital marketing than any semester in college. I love “Checking In” to the Boston Store on Foursquare only to find that I just earned $10 off a purchase of $30 or more. I love finding a new recipe on Pinterest that appears ultra complicated but only has four ingredients. I love seeing pictures on Facebook of my cousin’s new baby, Avery Jean, who I have yet to meet in person. I love getting an endorsement from a colleague on LinkedIn who refers to me as someone who “…is ready to deal with any situation and offers strong solutions.”

Even though I try to immerse myself in social media, the impact it had on yesterday’s Super Bowl XLVI was still mind-boggling to me. A Super Bowl Social Media Command Center was established in Indianapolis providing social media coverage 15 hours a day for a week leading up to the game.  The Super Bowl Host Committee selected 46 of the top influencers in social media to promote Indianapolis and the Super Bowl through social media. Twitter broke records both during Madonna’s halftime performance and again at the end of the game.

For me, YouTube gets my vote as the favorite social media channel for all things Super Bowl. I missed the National Anthem because I was busy loading “Fern Gully: The Last Rainforest” into the DVD player for my kids. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long to catch the performance online.

The commercials are a major draw for a large part of the population and as a marketer, I look forward to them every year. However, once again the kids make it nearly impossible to both watch and hear the clever multimillion dollar masterpieces. YouTube strikes again by providing a one-stop shop for every commercial aired during the Super Bowl at AdBlitz.

Couldn’t stay awake for the Vince Lombardi Trophy presentation or the game MVP announcement? You guessed it…YouTube has all of the highlights. I haven’t had the opportunity to sit down and watch them all yet, but I am really looking forward to reviewing the MVP announcement. David Beckham got that one, right?!

Comedy with conscience

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My gal pals and I with "Seth-on-a-stick" at the Barrymore Theater to see SNL's Seth Meyers.

I’ve always thought it was unfair that premium cable channels like HBO and Showtime are included as Emmy candidates. Of course Sex and the City was hilarious and The Sopranos was intense drama– the writers had no boundaries. The story lines were controversial, the characters were allowed to curse, and the sex scenes rivaled softcore pornography. It’s the television writers who can make me laugh without being over-the-top naughty who get my vote. I’ve already dated myself with the HBO references, so I’ll go for broke and say that I miss Chandler, Phoebe, Ross, Will, Grace, Jack, Jerry, Elaine, Kramer, George, and Newman!

The same goes for stand-up comedians. Last night my husband and I had tickets to the local Comedy Club. I had watched a short YouTube clip of the comedian before reserving my tickets to make sure we would enjoy his style of comedy. I thought he looked funny, so it was a date. A few Brandy Old Fashioneds for me and Whiskey Manhattans for Jon should have been enough for us to loosen up and prepare for some big laughs. The comedian started out strong poking fun at the ups and downs of parenthood, something to which we could truly relate. As the hour continued, he seemed desperate for laughs and the humor become offensive and for lack of a better term…icky. As his jokes became more vile, his physical appearance took a turn as well. His underarms were visibly sweating, his head mop was disheveled, and I was afraid one of the buttons from his ill-fitting shirt might pop off and strike me in the eye.

I tried my best to enjoy it, but found myself glancing at my watch and hoping it would be over soon. I wasn’t the only person who had grown tired of the crass entertainer. I looked around the room and saw plenty of people fidgeting in their seats and laughing awkwardly at the raunchy humor. Where was that cute waitress with the Jolly Rancher shots when we really needed her?!

The next time we’re looking for an evening of laughs, I’ll do a little more research before making reservations. There are still some wonderful comedians out there who I can always count on for a good laugh. My top 5 personal favorites would probably include: Jerry Seinfeld, Ellen DeGeneres, Jim Gaffigan, Frank Caliendo, and Seth Meyers.

Who makes you laugh?

Word Girl prevails

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I have a love/hate relationship with Alec Baldwin. On the one hand, I’m not so much a fan of listening to him call his 11-year-old daughter a “thoughtless pig” on her not-so-private voicemail. On the other hand, Baldwin’s Schweddy Balls skit on SNL helps rank him as my second all-time favorite host of the show (my heart belongs to Justin on that one). When Baldwin made news last week for being kicked off an American Airlines flight because he refused to turn off his cell phone while playing “Words with Friends,” the first word that came to my mind was moron. But a few days ago, I was invited to play my first game of “Words with Friends” and now I get it.

Words are my friends. They got me through four years of journalism school and a certain co-worker of mine has been known to call me “Word Girl” when she needs a good synonym. The mere thought of myself sporting a superhero cape and saving the world with my words is enough to rouse goosebumps!

While I don’t consider myself much of a gamer, I have enjoyed an action-packed Scrabble match in my day. “Words with Friends” is really just an online Scrabble match with people who don’t live in your house. So then why is it so much more addictive?!

It took 2.5 days to finish my first and only game. Granted, my opponent and I have busy lives and families, but we also calculated each move very carefully and I could literally feel the tension from 300+ miles away. I found myself playing under the kitchen table during breakfast and hiding around the corner at playtime. I even studied my game at a 6% incline on the treadmill while watching the Green Bay Packers do their thing. Now that’s multitasking at its best!

There were some exciting moments during this weekend game as well as some questionable word choices such as zee and fixit, played by my opponent. At one point, I was horrified to realize I had lost a turn when I swapped my letters and suddenly found myself 30 points behind. Several moves later, I pulled out a 33-point tween and was back in the game. Just when I thought the board was mine, my opponent won a 39-point brugh and become very cocky on the messenger, so I appropriately retaliated with a 30-point glib. In the end, this Word Girl brought it home.

What’s my next move? Mr. Baldwin, if you’re reading this, I would be super jazzed if you would accept my invitation to play a friendly match with yours truly. If you must fly, I might recommend trying Funjet…seems like they might better understand our predicament. Game on!

Seven reasons I won’t accept your friend request

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Do I really have 244 friends? It’s pretty hard to believe since I spent last Friday night sitting at home eating Combos and watching “Water for Elephants” On Demand while my husband was carousing with my cousins at buck camp. It’s not that I couldn’t have gotten a sitter for the kids — not one of those so-called friends invited me out. These days, 244 friends isn’t even a big number. But now that the novelty of Facebook has worn off a bit, I’ve gotten more selective about who I want added to my list of friends…and who I don’t want added.

1) If while riding the bus to school in third grade, you ripped the puffy hand-crocheted ball off the top of my hat (made with love by Grandma Adsit) and then proceeded to toss it around the bus, I will not accept your friend request.

2) If you are my 15-year-old babysitter, I will not accept your friend request.

3) If I have ever referred to you in my status update as the annoying co-worker who talks too loudly on the phone about your kid’s bodily fluids and the violent way in which they exited his body, I will not accept your friend request.

4) If we went to college together and you tried to kiss my boyfriend in the basement of the blue Pepsi house during cartoon cocktails at Springfest, I will not accept your friend request.

5) If you are the friend of a friend who wants a job at my company and thinks I can give you a positive referral, I will not accept your friend request.

6) If you don’t speak English, I will not accept your friend request. Not trying to discriminate, just seems like a moot point.

7) If I have absolutely positively no flipping idea who you are and neither do any of my actual friends, I will not accept your friend request.

On a side note, Google+ has a great feature in which you can assign people to an acquaintance circle or a friend circle. If you fall into the above category of 1, 3, 5, or 7, I would definitely add you to my Google+ circle of acquaintances. Sorry 2, 4, 6…not gonna happen.

Roadtrip!

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Up until last week, I had three good reasons to admire the prestige of a Cadillac:

1) There was the Caddy driven by my late Grandpa DiTorrice. I was too young to remember that gem, but the connection to my Grandpa automatically gives it street cred.

2) As a pre-teen, I dreamed of one day selling enough lipstick and rouge to earn myself a fancy pink Cadillac from the Mary Kay cosmetics company. Oh, how the neighbors would covet my ride!

3) Then there was that other pink Cadillac during my teen years in which I envisioned myself riding in the back and cruising down the street with Mr. Bruce Springsteen while the E Street Band followed close behind.

Last weekend I was presented with the keys to my very own 2012 black Cadillac to drive for a work trip to Minneapolis. I bragged to my husband, I tweeted my good fortune, and I even updated my Facebook page to reflect my cool new status. In the car, I explored everything from the double sunroof to the rear-view video display to the analog clock in the center panel that looked unusually elegant.

On Sunday afternoon, the roadtrip began. Almost five hours and a venti nonfat skinny mocha later, I realized that the Cadillac is really just a means of getting me from point A to point B…not that impressive, actually.

There’s just no denying that five hours in any car is going to cause bum pain. The type of vehicle you drive simply determines how pretentious you can be when describing the pain. I break it down as such:

  • Chevy Silverado: After five hours in my husband’s full-size extended cab pick-up truck, my ass hurts.
  • Honda Odyssey: After five hours in my kid friendly sky blue soccer mom minivan, my pooper aches.
  • 2012 Cadillac: After five hours in my fully loaded luxury sedan, my derrière is experiencing extreme discomfort.

In other words, it’s all the same to me. I don’t know what Grandpa D, Mary Kay, and the Boss think they knew about Cadillacs, but the next time I’m asked to visit Minneapolis, I’m going to check out cheaptickets.com and arrive in less than an hour.

Despicable Us

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I lost the coin toss on Friday morning. This meant I would be accompanying my kindergarten son to Halloween trick-or-treating at his elementary school followed by a showing of “Despicable Me” in the gymnasium. Flipping a coin to decide who was lucky enough to stay home with our two-year-old daughter was merely the first despicable act of the day.

We arrived at school in time to join the hallway stroll with ninjas, princesses, athletes, grannies, superheros, mummies, and one very inappropriate five-year-old Lady Gaga who made my miniature Transformer blush. It’s no stretch to say that girl’s mom committed the second despicable act of the day.

With prizes in hand and blankets on the hard floor, we waited for the movie to start. The lights went down and the gymnasium fell silent. About 30 minutes into the movie, my left leg started tingling which only enhanced the numbness of my rear. It was time to move from my cross-legged position and look around the room to see if the other parents looked as uncomfortable as I felt.

To my surprise, the room was glowing like a Bon Jovi concert. About 60% of the light was coming from little ones wearing their new glow bracelets, but the other 40% was coming from parents looking at their mobile phones. Hmmm. Well, I did have a few e-mails that needed attention, so I fired up my BB and joined the crowd of despicable parents who can’t sit with their kids for a 90-minute movie.

Like all good animated films, this movie had an underlying theme hidden in the brilliant lines of Steve Carell and the antics of his minions, who were really just Universal Studio’s version of the oompa loompa. The theme was about loving somebody unconditionally despite their flaws. It’s the kind of love that I have been blessed enough to receive from both my parents and my children. I can only hope that it’s strong enough to endure when my son is a teenager and he realizes that not only did his parents flip a coin to determine who had to attend his movie night, but that his mother was rude enough to send e-mails during the movie. I am ashamed of myself.

One good thing did come from the evening, however. I feel great relief knowing that if ever a tornado blows through town on a school day, Noah will be secure in that gymnasium. I know this because the glow from those mobile devices danced around the room as we all stretched our arms toward the open door waving them around for a better signal. Despicable.

Going broke with Groupon

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Last Friday wasn’t just any date night. It was date night with a free babysitter and a Groupon! How could we possibly go wrong with such an extreme score? Upon meeting my husband at the locally owned Italian eatery, we found ourselves uttering the following phrases:

  • Let’s order an appetizer – we have a Groupon.
  • Should we get another round of drinks? We have a Groupon.
  • Don’t order your favorite margherita pizza, get something better – we have a Groupon.
  • How about dessert? We have a Groupon.

We left this popular restaurant two hours later feeling uncomfortably full, fairly buzzed, and completely broke. This sacred Groupon somehow made us feel entitled to splurge beyond our means and our appetites. As a result, we spent more money than we would have on a normal date night with a paid sitter.

I have been purchasing these money-saving gems since the inception of Groupon. I have purchased photo framing, teeth whitening, massages, pedicures, and play date activities. In fact, next week I will be enjoying a $19 gel manicure at my favorite salon. Why do I need a $19 gel manicure? I don’t. I have 20 shades of nail polish in my closet and two hands that are perfectly capable of painting the nails on the other. Still, when that e-mail arrives in my inbox every morning with claims to save 50-60% on a service or product I don’t actually need, suddenly I would be a fool for not purchasing this convenient mobile scannable bar code of sheer value.