Oh, the drama…

Last night I saw an opera for the first time: La Bohème.

At the conductor’s announcement that we could follow along with the English translation on our smart phones, I rolled my eyes. Can we do NOTHING without our smart phones? I would rely on my two semesters of Italian class, so there!

Majorly confused after the first act, I decided to get over my stubbornness and go digital, and let me tell you—my engagement with the experience was much deeper. Knowing what they were singing about made a huge difference. Duh, Deidre.

The point?

You’re putting so much passion into your opera. (Brava!) Translate it into your audience’s language…so they can really get it.

I can help.

Fill it up regular, please.

Yesterday I pulled my car up to the pump and said to the gas attendant, “Can you fill it with regular, please?” Then I laughed and said, “Gosh, you must hear that a million times a day!”

When he came back to my window, he said, “Do you know what I hear more than that?”

I looked at him curiously.

“I hear, ‘Fill it up regular.’ No please. Most folks don’t say please.”

I said, “Oh my goodness! Well, please and thank you a million times for all the people who forget.”

In the busyness and rush to get places and do things, we sometimes forget our manners. But the truth is, a little bit of gratitude fills us all up.

The point?

Whether verbal or written, there’s always room for kindness in our words. If you need website content, newsletters or blog posts that will fuel your business and always be polite and authentic, let’s talk.

What’s for dinner?

 At the dog park—while our dogs are doing weird things—the humans always want to know, “What’s for dinner?”

Everyone else says things like beef brisket, roasted chicken, chicken piccata, burgers, pot pie, stir fry!

I say oatmeal or eggs. Everyone looks at me pitifully. They are worried I’m nutritionally deficient and sometimes bring me large Tupperware containers of meat—which despite the fact I’m not a big meat eater, I’m grateful for (and then usually feed to Cannoli).

I make the oatmeal a bunch of different ways: sweet with walnuts, raisins, cinnamon and pumpkin—or savory with salt, pepper, peas, olive oil and Parmesan. Or I make eggs with veggies or smoked salmon. There’s enough variety to keep me happy without driving me crazy. Heck, I might start wearing the same thing every day too…just to see what happens.

The point?

If you want to eat ______ every night for dinner, you have my full support. Because I think when we simplify the other stuff, it helps us be even better at what really matters to us!

Want to simplify content-creation? I got you.

P.S. Here are some cool ideas for savory dinner oats.

I ate all the chocolate chips

I was visiting my parents last week. Sometimes my mom bakes, so she keeps her house stocked with chocolate chips. Unfortunately for me, under these conditions, I keep my mouth stocked with chocolate chips. I eat little handfuls of them with walnuts throughout the day and before you know it, gone.

So, I begged my mom, “Please hide the chocolate chips. I have no self-control!”

The next day, I saw a bag of popcorn in the cabinet. Yum, popcorn! When I removed the chip clip, I discovered the empty bag of popcorn was being used to conceal the package of chocolate chips.

Had my mom hid them in a pretzel bag or cereal box, or just about anywhere else, they could have survived forever untouched by me. But she “hid” my first favorite thing inside the wrapping of my second favorite thing.

The point?

In chocolate-chip-hiding, and in writing words for your website, it’s all about knowing your audience.

Let’s bake up something great,

Do you have a pink Frisbee?

I go to the dog park most afternoons where I sit on a plastic chair in a giant circle with lovely, nutty people and a kerfuffle of running, barking, dirt-eating, misbehaving dogs having the best time ever. My dog likes to rub her body on the perimeter of the fence and gnaw on a pink Frisbee.

I mostly just sit there and laugh. Dogs are totally more inclined to show their quirky than humans…and I think it’s awesome.

The point?

Our personalities and unique perspectives make us authentic. We bring that authenticity with us into everything we do—whether it’s sitting around a dog park or providing our clients with a service.

Here’s the thing. Cannoli doesn’t know that she’s quirky. She might not be able to recognize her most endearing qualities because they come so naturally to her. And you probably can’t either. Can any of us see ourselves clearly?

Let’s find your pink Frisbee,

But honey, you’re right across the bridge…


I’m not ashamed to admit it. I paid $32 to ship a purple bridesmaid dress across the Hudson River to my house.

Surprised at my request, the woman on the phone said, “But honey, you’re right across the bridge.” My internal budgeteer said, “That’s a ridiculous price to ship a dress!” While both statements were true, I’d still rather pay $32 than drive to Yonkers!

While also proving why I’m not an accountant, let’s look at the real cost:

  • Annoyance thinking about driving to Yonkers: (at least 60 minutes)
  • Bridge toll: $4.75
  • Parking (meter): $.50
  • Parking (aggravation): at least some
  • Gas: $2.00
  • Total drive time: 60 minutes (without traffic)

Total cost = $7.25 + at least 120 minutes of time/annoyance/aggravation

For $32, the dress just showed up on my doorstep—preserving sanity, time and focus. That’s totally worth it!

The point?

Are you “just across the bridge” from having awesome website, newsletter or blog copy? How much time are you spending worrying about it, planning it, and/or trying to write it yourself? Let me deliver it to your doorstep.

Anyone have nude shoes I can borrow?

P.S. As far as I’m concerned, my UPS delivery man (Bobby, you rock!), postal workers and everyone who drives for a living are my heroes.

* Photo, courtesy of Sean @a_boy_and_his_dog_photography

You want me to crawl like a bear?

Back in November, I decided I wanted actual muscles. And I was tired of my half-baked attempts at getting them myself. (Carrying takeout inside builds muscles, no?) So I did something I never thought I’d do (but always secretly wanted to do). I hired a trainer at the gym.

Ruth makes me do things I would never do myself in a million years—like lifting kettle bells and crawling around like a bear—but I do it because she’s there with me, guiding me, encouraging me, and pretty much making me laugh my butt off, literally. It’s fun. And I’m loving the results.

The point?

I’m the kind of person who thinks I can do everything myself. Yes, I can make myself exercise. Sure, I can hem my own jeans. Yup, I can change my own oil.  Umm, not really!

When I hire someone to help me, all of these things 1) actually happen, 2) turn out so much better, and 3) are way less frustrating.

So if you can handle it alone, but you’d prefer more fun, more accountability and less frustration, let’s talk.

I swear I’ll never make you lift a kettle bell,

Can I give you a high-five?


The cashier said to the woman in front of me, “If you spend $8 more dollars, you get a free turkey!”

The woman looked at me and woman behind me and said, “I don’t want to hold up the line!” We both yelled, “Get that free turkey!” The cashier ran for the turkey, the woman’s husband ran for $8 worth of pot pies and the woman behind me exhaled, “I’m just happy to have 5 minutes where I don’t have to do anything.”

After the mission was accomplished, I gave turkey-lady a high-five. Then the woman behind me wanted one. The cashier high-fived all of us.

So naturally, because of this, I’ve started high-fiving pretty much everybody. I think it’s a positive and contagious gesture – and heck, we all need a little encouragement sometimes, don’t we?

Please accept this virtual high-five, and if you’re so inclined, pass it on.

Oh yeah … if you need help writing copy that’s even better than a free turkey, I’m your gal. Happy 2017!

Secure your garbage cans


In addition to being the enforcer of beating shore traffic, my dad is also my personal weatherman. He informed me today that high winds are coming and I should secure my garbage cans.

He’s dead serious. The booming authority, commitment and passion with which he needs me to secure my garbage cans (or stay off the road in bad conditions or change my windshield wipers) can’t be ignored.

When my dad calls me about the weather, I listen.

And when I tell you this, I want you to listen…

Humans want to work with humans. Not robots. Not aliens. 

I know this because the more human the relationship between me and my clients and creative partners, the better the work we do together. And the more fun we have.

The point?
As the year winds down, I have to tell you—from one human to another:
I’m so grateful I can be myself with you in doing what I love.

If you need help putting more of yourself into your business—I’d love to help.

And thank you, sincerely, for being so amazing.

My ambiguous guinea pig

My first pet was a tri-colored guinea pig named Violet. Though essentially a rat with hair, she was Elizabeth Taylor to me.

The weirdest thing about Violet? Because her beady little eyes blended into her dark furry face, you couldn’t tell whether she was coming or going. It wasn’t immediately clear which end was which. (One end ate carrots). Because she was cute, most new acquaintances took the time to figure it out.

The point?
If your business isn’t as cute as a guinea pig, there’s no room for ambiguity! Can your website readers quickly understand what you do? If not, I can help.

I’ll point you towards the carrots,