LinkedIn posts, random thoughts, memes, and stories from my life. Some are funny, some are serious but they are all unapologetically me. 
Why is Fanta orange soda somehow always warm?
Oh, I don't have an answer. I was just wondering.
But it's true, no matter if it's been in the fridge all day or in a bucket full of ice it is still, incredibly, somehow lukewarm (at best). 
Also, I crave Fanta orange soda every once in a while but could never drink a 12-pack. And to buy just a can you have to find a vending machine that actually has it. Fanta should develop a two-pack of orange soda. Just enough soda to remember you hate it. 
Anyway, if you have the answer to why it's warm no matter what I do please email me ASAP.
You’ll eliminate yourself in this business.

Recently, the creative portfolio program I graduated from made some major changes in response to some backlash.

For 41 years, they have cut a large portion of their students every semester after final critique, all in the name of excellence and competition. Now that is a thing of the past.

One of my previous art director partners asked me, “But what how will they weed out the unmotivated ones?” I thought about it and told her, “They will eliminate themselves.”

When I was a student in the program, I never thought about being cut until all the work was turned in. That wasn’t hubris, it just wasn’t my motivation. I wanted to be the best one in the room, get the best job, and make the professor laugh the hardest. I wasn’t always the best, but I never lacked drive.

What I learned from them is that some people need the threat of being kicked out of the program, and maybe they are talented and will get the best jobs. But they won’t make it because they don’t have that thing. The thing that makes them get to the office first and leave last, take two hours to decide on a comma, or give an hour long lecture on the magic of the grid.

If your heart’s not in it, you won’t need to be eliminated, you’ll do it yourself.
I have a problem.
When I first tell people I'm looking for a job, they will usually ask where I'm looking to go. I hope this clears things up.
I want to be Randy Fenoli when I grow up.
Everyone keeps saying this is the perfect time to learn something new, focus on hobbies, spend time with family.

But I’ll be really honest, most of my time is spent on LinkedIn, or watching "Say Yes to the Dress." And I must say, there are some really important lessons I’ve learned from "Say Yes to the Dress" that I want to apply to my job search.

1. If it’s not for you, you will know it. And if it’s the perfect fit, there better be some happy tears.

2. Don’t pick a dress just because your entourage likes it. You know what’s best for you.

3. Just because it’s a designer dress or more expensive, doesn’t mean it’s better than anything else in the store.

4. Mother doesn’t know best…Randy does.

Ok, that last one doesn’t apply as much, but you get the gist. So if you’re on the job hunt right now, maybe try watching "Say Yes to the Dress." It has hidden pockets of wisdom.

I’ve also included a graphic that shows what my episode will look like when finally say yes to the “dress.”
Don't you ever bring me what's possible. 
I have never been so thrown off by a critique in my life. It didn’t even make sense to me at first. All we’d done was suggest an outfit for our annual group picture.

We chose plain black shirts with jeans, cuffed of course, and white tennis shoes or doc martins. We’d told our professor we knew everyone had this and it would be easy to do.

He started getting frustrated, you could see it on his face and I was bracing myself for whatever he was going to say. In that moment, he decided to teach us a lesson I didn’t know I needed so desperately.

That’s when he leaned in and told us, “Don’t you ever bring me what is possible ever again.” It sounded like a parent scolding a child for touching a hot stove. We all were confused.

And then he continued, “Your job is to bring me what you want. My job is to help you make it happen.”

That is exactly what I needed to hear. I felt like I’d been freed from my own restraints. From that moment on, I came up with what seemed crazier and crazier ideas. Not all of them worked of course, but they made my campaigns better. And there’s something incredibly satisfying making the impossible, possible.

So if you’re a creative director and you only let your juniors bring you what’s possible, you’re really missing out.

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