As an independent contractor, I get asked a lot on how I make a living. The easiest answer is “I work from home.” If that doesn’t satisfy the interviewer, however, I’ll usually say “I’m a writer,” which is only partly true.

In many ways, I’m a jack of all trades. Writing and helping others leverage compelling content is my forte. But I also enjoy critiquing software and games, moonlighting in online advertising, marketing that’s heavy on storytelling, a little eBay, and one-off projects that present a unique but hard-to-screw up challenge.

That said, I never over promise. I’m quick to tell a potential client or existing client “I don’t do that” when asked about other disciplines and send them on their way—mostly because I do crappy work when I’m not passionate about it. That and I refuse to engage in work I don’t like doing, regardless of how well it pays.

(Seriously, doing stuff you don’t enjoy solely for money or status is the epitome of living a lie. I realize some people have no choice in the short-term and often have to take one for the team to make ends me. But EVERYONE has a choice in the long term. It just takes planning, sacrifice, and guts.)

Anways, long story short, here’s how I became a thousandaire last year: (more…)

Saying “I love you” for the first time is always a crap shoot.

It’s easier to do when the other one says it first. Difficult to do when you’re the emotional, head-over-heals, and “want to lay it on the line” one like me.

That was the case when I first expressed my love to Lindsey. If I remember right, the conversation went something like this (probably after one of our legendary make-out sessions):

Me: “I love you.”

Lindsey: “Thank you.”

Crash and burn.

Not to worry, though. I was flying high again a few months later, after hot stuff reciprocated. And we lived happily ever after.

Thank you, Lindsey.

See also:

• 56 reasons my wife is better than yours
• Why love at first sight is a sham

My dad won’t like me for repeating this on the intertubes, but it’s too good not to.

Growing up, my old man would regularly sneak off to his tiny toilet room to get away from his loud wife and six, know-it-all children. It was one of those “bathroom within a bathroom” type deals where the toilet had its own lockable door—you know, for added privacy and to keep the fumes from offending a significant other using the sinks, bath, or shower.

Funny thing is, that toilet room would have been claustrophobic for an undersized gnome. While sitting on the toilet, small children could have (and regularly did) touch opposing side walls with ease. It couldn’t have been longer than six feet.

Nevertheless, my dad would retreat there for what seemed like hours, reading Rand-McNally maps or whatever almanac or resource books he left in there. It was his sole sanctuary, that is until he took over the entire second floor after the kids left home.

As a stunning teenager, I remember thinking something like this: “Dude bought this big ole house and everything in it, and yet the only space he has to himself is a 6×3′ toilet room.”

Now, as the children have begun overrunning my own house, I have found myself in similar situations. Granted, I have it better than he did. I enjoy a private home office that is only occasionally open to the kids for impromptu dance sessions (since my desktop doubles as the house’s best hi-fi). And my “toilet room” is much larger than his.

But I still stay in the bathroom longer than I should. The only difference is instead of Rand-McNallys, an iPad comes with me.

(Note: I defer all flagging concerns to George Costanza)

I recently sampled a book in which the author said such-and-such was the “second most enchanting thing” he’d ever seen, save only seeing his wife for the first time. The line made me reflect upon the first time I met my wife:

In a hot tub. (more…)

The Reach Total Care + Whitening. Seriously, this thing is my version of the Ora-Dent for the following reasons:

1. Unlike most plastic bristles, these babies don’t just slide across your rocks, they actually have grip and texture, which help remove build-up. After using this brush, your teeth feel as though the’ve just been polished by a dental hygienist. I know because I lick my teeth after every brush now.
2. The angle of the brush gives you maximum leverage, making it easier than any brush I’ve used before to access those hard-to-reach places.
3. Most brush handles narrow towards the end. Not the Reach Total Care + Whitening. This handle widens at the end, providing the best grip possible. I own my teeth now!

That said, I don’t fully buy the whitening bit. If Reach is saying the brush is capable of removing more external gunk than other brushes thanks to the above, then fine. But if they’re claiming it whitens like my bleech trays, I’ll call their bluff. After all, they’re whitening claim is asterisked by “lab tests,” aka “clinically proven,” aka “this doesn’t really do what we claim, but we’d like to think it does.”

Secondly, at $3.50 a pop, the brush is 3X the price of average brushes. Regardless, I’ll never buy another toothbrush. It’s that good.

(For what it’s worth, here is the toothpaste I use. Also awesome.)

I wish I could have seen my Dad play basketball.

My uncle tells me he was a phenomenal shooter, regularly putting up 30+ points a night against amateur competition. My old man reputedly scored 50 points in a single half of intramural college ball once (!).

More impressive from a precision standpoint, he shot 50 consecutive free throws at my neighbor’s house when I was a boy. He stopped before missing his first shot so he could get home “for supper,” he says. Talk about ending on a high note.

Marveling at other great shooters this year, including Jimmer Fredette, whom I’ve watched at close range, I asked my Dad what it takes to be a great percentage shooter. His reply:

“It is a combination of natural and great physical skill, thousands of hours of practice and playing, and the ability after reaching a certain point of physical excellence to take your mind out of shooting and letting your body do it! That’s the groove that is spoken of. Not very many reach the ‘groove’ consistently. When it happens, it is like heaven on earth.”

High five, pops!

Seriously folks, I had it all.

• Died hair
• Butt cut
• Acne
• Braces
• Shaved sides
• … and more!

To all you freshmen out there: This too shall pass.

Via Brookstone

An Amazon.com warehouse. Storefront of course being their awesome website. Via The Big Picture.

• Had my deodorant confiscated by the TSA
• Ran the Charles River
• Saw the Facebook movie (it’s really good, five stars me thinks)
• People watched in Boston Common
• Saw the Red Sox lose to the Yankees in the 10th inning
• Drove to New Hampshire; bought cider donuts at an apple farm; saw the leaves turn; bought overpriced Bavarian chocolate
• Ate a killer crab roll (fresh) (more…)