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	<title>WIRL Project &#187; Goals</title>
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	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
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		<title>D: Dreams &#8211; What It&#8217;s Really Like</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/d-dreams-what-its-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/d-dreams-what-its-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 13 Jul 2015 07:30:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News/Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ABCs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Big Shot]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dreams]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Game Winner]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goals]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hero]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[My Team]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WE WIN]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7551</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like…  “Most of us spend a lot of time dreaming of the future, never realizing a little arrives each day.” We’ve all played out the hero scenario in the driveway, at the gym, or in the office cubicle: You’re down one with the ball in your hand. The countdown begins…3…step back…2…turn…1…fire…BUZZER…bottom of the cylinder…GAME WINNER. When I was growing up, I played out this exact same scenario well over 10,000 times shooting hoops in my driveway or at a plastic hoop hanging off of my bedroom door. Multiply that by the countless number of times I fictitiously led a game-winning drive with 2:00 minutes to go in a football game or hit a walk-off homerun with a full-count and two outs in the bottom of the 9th inning.  Back in those days dreams were big and confidence was immeasurable. In those pressure packed situations I was undefeated and always the hero. Earlier this year I hit a milestone birthday. For the life of me, I cannot remember the last time I hit a wastebasket jumper to win the game. Athletics has not been the central focus of my life for some time. After high school, sports quickly evolved into “desk sports” (sports fandom, fantasy leagues and wastebasket hoops). Eventually even these acts become downgraded priorities to other responsibilities. Soon you begin losing track of your dreams and the last time you took a big shot. Did time run out? Did I pass? Did I just stop shooting? Or on the flip-side, did all of my dreams come true? One difficulty in life is dealing with and realizing when dreams change. An extremely difficult lesson for me to learn as a boyfriend turned newlywed was dealing with changing dreams. Instead of individually striving and stopping at nothing to achieve personal life goals I had to learn how to help lift up my wife to reach hers. I will admit that both of our independent mindsets drove us apart a few times before we were married. What took me so long to realize was that my family was my new team.  When we dream together WE WIN. We root for each other. We support each other. We live through each other. When you fall asleep at night, where do you go? Where does your mind take you? Are you alone or are you with your team? I’m at home, surrounded by my family and friends in a familiar environment. I am free of the burdens of finances, geographical distance and work. My team is smiling and I am happy. When I take a moment to think about how my dreams have changed I do not believe that I have stopped shooting, I am just letting some of my other teammates take a few of the final shots.]]></description>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I Left My Shy Self At Home This Year: BlogU15</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-left-my-shy-self-at-home-this-year-blogu15/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-left-my-shy-self-at-home-this-year-blogu15/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Jun 2015 17:00:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Guest WIRL]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Technology/Web]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Challenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[BlogU]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goals]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not so Super Mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Challenge BlogU]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Write]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7006</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Last year I went to The Blog University known as #BlogU. Hashtag getschooled. And there was definitely a lot of schooling to be had there. Writing, promoting, making money, social media, &#8220;branding&#8221; your blog, treating your blog like a business. A lot. And despite the notion that one should go to a blogging conference to learn about blogging, I actually learned more about myself last year. I learned that in a large group of people that are not my family or friends, I will revert back to my introverted and shy younger self. It prevented me from meeting a lot of fellow bloggers that I was quite comfortable with chatting online in various writing groups. People who share my love for this medium and who understand what it means to want and to need to do this. I wasn&#8217;t 100% sure I should even be going to BlogU since until then I hadn&#8217;t considered my blog to be much more than a hobby and an outlet for me to write. (Of course, this might be a bit of an understatement since I do have a facebook page and twitter account under my blog name&#8211;but I guess part of the vanity of writing is wanting people to actually read what you write.) I didn&#8217;t know if I could justify spending the time or money on what was (for me) the huge luxury of a conference. I had dabbled with a few small social media campaigns and a sponsored post that helped offset the cost, so that sort of sealed the deal for me in my mind &#8212; if I had already invested the time and energy in those efforts, maybe there was more to my whole experience as a blogger than writing every once in a while and begging my friends to read it. At it&#8217;s most basic, blogging is writing and I&#8217;ve been doing it ever since I can remember. I am certainly not the best, and I am definitely not prolific, but I believe I am a good writer&#8211;even if I might be a crappy blogger. I felt that I had a unique &#8220;brand&#8221;, but not necessarily a unique perspective&#8211;which seems to be a key to blogging success. But then, success is defined differently for all of us. The main reason that I feel BlogU is for me is that it is approachable. No one there is keeping tabs on how often (or not) I&#8217;m posting. They don&#8217;t care if I don&#8217;t have some sponsorship deal with a brand. They care about me because I care to be there. I want to learn whatever it is that will elevate me as a blogger and a writer&#8211;whether that&#8217;s writing for money or simply writing for myself. It is about our craft and how we can do it better: for ourselves, for our readers and for our families (as a potential source of income). I was determined to have a more successful year at #BlogU15 this year. My shy, introverted (and coincidentally Middle-School-aged) self was nowhere to be found. (Except on the bulletin board full of #MiddleSchoolAwkward pictures for the Nickelodeon-sponsored #MiddleSchooltotheMax dance party on Saturday night.) But despite the previous year&#8217;s shyness, I really made an effort to meet and talk to more of the little people from inside my computer&#8230; &#160; But enough about me, there are SO many things to know and do depending on what your goals are for your blog or yourself as a professional writer. I did make an effort to focus on my blog and what I wanted to take away from #BlogU15 as a writer and a blogger. The things I learned about blogging are these: Blogging is work. If you think this shit writes itself, you&#8217;re crazy. I&#8217;m sure some people can sit down and bang out a post in 15 minutes but it takes me some serious time. (In fact, a good bit of THIS post was started last year after #BlogU14. I never finished it then, but a lot of the thoughts stuck with me this year.) Blogging is not merely writing.  Writing is just the beginning of it. There is design, analytics and social media involved. All of which are time consuming and necessary to different degrees, depending on your goals. Blogging is universal. The heart of blogging is communication. We write to share, to teach, and to reach out&#8211;regardless of the topic. You can be a parenting blogger, a fashion blogger, a food blogger or a lifestyle blogger but no matter your genre, you are speaking to an audience. And they are listening. That is communication. &#160;  *This was originally published on TheNotSoSuperMom Join The Conversation! Easily contribute your story here. &#160; About the Author… Melanie Madamba is The Not so Super Mom: recovering nerd, mother of three, and coffee addict. She would never want to be confused with a Super Mom or anyone else who seems to have it together. She’s not trying to do it all–she’s not even trying to do it right. She’s just trying to get something, ANYTHING, done. She writes to escape the laundry and to pretend someone is listening to her. If you are trying to avoid your laundry, you can kill some time checking her out on Facebook or twitter.]]></description>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>BlogU: I Had a Weekend</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/blogu-i-had-a-weekend/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/blogu-i-had-a-weekend/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Jun 2015 12:00:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Guest WIRL]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Technology/Web]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Challenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Approacher]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[BlogU]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goals]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Challenge BlogU]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7029</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I went to Baltimore. I went to BlogU. I had never been to Baltimore or a blogging conference before. I had no idea what to expect. I was terrified.  Before I got on the plane, before I bought the tickets and reserved the room, before I told Jill that maybe we needed to go to a blogging conference, I spent a lot of time trying to talk myself out of going. Jill and I are a one-income show. That one income supports 3 children, I.5 adults, and countless bureaucrats. That one income loses its buying power quickly and airfare is expensive. Our blog had been around for a while and readership hadn’t exactly exploded. Maybe that meant I’m just not that into blogging. Maybe the world didn’t want what I was serving. Maybe I shouldn’t put any more effort and money into blogging/writing/humoring.  Maybe no one thinks I’m funny. Or even interesting. The blog attendees would be almost exclusively women. I am not exclusively a woman. Would Jill go with and agree to be my buffer, my advocate, my gibberish-to-woman translator? I didn’t doubt she would. I also didn’t doubt that she’d roll her eyes at everything I said. She’d either die from embarrassment or blood loss from biting her tongue. I asked anyway. It was January. “I was thinking of going to BlogU. It’s in Baltimore in June. I know a lot of people who are going and they’re all raving about how awesome it will be. It could really do great things for the blog.” “Yeah?” “But the thing is, it’s all women and I don’t want to go alone. I’m afraid they might string me up and whack me like a pinata for all the shit men have put them through. Men are HORRIBLE. You know this, right? I mean, I don’t want to be an effigy. Or a Jeffigy. Will you go with me?” “No. Why would I?” “Well . . . ’cause it’s all women. Like I said. And I don’t speak woman. And I bruise easily.” “Take Julie.” Julie is Jill’s sister. Julie is a master of socializing and small talk. She’s also extremely organized. She could cover classes I couldn’t attend, she’d force me to get on a writing  schedule, she would be the perfect person to assist in goal-setting, and she might even help me escape when the pinata mob comes looking for man meat to rend. Maybe. Really, it was a great idea. I couldn’t argue. Even though I ached for an argument. I burned for an argument. Julie would be my babysitter-in-law. “Ok.” “You still talking to me?” So it was set. Then months rolled by, as they do. I went back to ignoring this blog, my twitter account, my health, my sanity, my personal hygiene, and my writing responsibilities–deflecting the need to post with the handy phrase “I’m waiting till after BlogU. I want to be all strategic and shit.” Before I knew it, it was June and Jill had just designed our very first business card–fully-loaded with a brand new email address all activated and what-not. Before I knew it, I was hurtling through the air, speeding off to meet people–mostly strangers that would hate me on sight as well as about a dozen bloggers I had gotten to know online who would immediately regret and eventually deny knowing me. Before I knew it, I was deeply regretting my decision. Those bloggers had expectations of me. I would have to try to be funny. To their faces. To their flesh-faces. Immediately. I wouldn’t have the luxury of mulling over the best response and then safely, privately typing it into a small comment field. Now I’d have to consider my word choice, my body language, my tone. I’d have to worry about spittle flying from my clumsy lips and muscular tongue. Would I spit on them? Would I shower them in spittle? I’d get their reactions live. I’d see their eyes widen in horror, their lips curl in disgust. They’d bare their teeth at me in the most unsmilingest ways. I’d breathe the same air as these People of the Computer. They’d hear my voice. And that damage could never be repaired. I knew without a doubt that every last person would mock me–I just didn’t know if they’d do it in their heads or right out loud. We got the hotel around midnight. The online chatter told me that there would be a group of bloggers in the lobby having drinks and many laughs, probably at my expense. There were. They were talking and laughing. I hid. I scuttled to the elevator. I dreaded. I fled to the room. I fumbled with the key card. I pleaded with Julie to just “help me with this impossiblepieceofshitfuckingcard, fortheloveofGOD!” I avoided eye contact with her. I went to sleep. I snored (probably). The next day, we went out for breakfast. It was the last time my life would resemble normal. We went to a place called Miss Shirley’s. If you’re ever in Baltimore and you don’t eat at Miss Shirley’s, you’ve failed at Baltimoring. And you run the risk of being labelled a Baltimoron. The food was unexpectedly southern. The south is where delicious is served deep-fried. Julie and I actually had our very first fried green tomatoes. When I was halfway through my CRAB CAKE BREAKFAST SANDWICH (SO AWESOME), people began filling up a table right in front of me. Recognizable people. Worse yet, people who could recognize me. I was completely exposed. I couldn’t hide from them. They were between me and the door. I hadn’t paid or even finished my breakfast. A meeting was unavoidable. Over my pounding heart and against the demands of my parasympathetic nervous system telling me to “RUN, you worthless little fuck!” I decided that the power rested with the one who approached. I decided to be in power. I decided to be the APPROACHER. I braced myself for abject humiliation and rejection and humiliation and pain and humiliation. I was approaching one of the funniest bloggers in the blogosphere. “Hi Sarah.” “OH HI JEFF!!! SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!” It’s a trick! She’s going to stab you! “So cool to see you here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone until registration.” Get ready! Here comes the blade!  We hugged. I survived with no puncture wounds. “Oh hi!” This was Aussa, another star blogger. We hugged before I could defend myself. “OH MY GOD! HI JEFF!” I turned around and saw another familiar face. “Norrine? Hi!” “Thank you for all your help on the Big Book Of Parenting Tweets,” (readers, you can buy it here for an amazing low price! commercial’s over, now back to the post) “you were such a big help!” SHE’S going to stab you! This is a restaurant, there are knives everywhere! One of them is in her hand! “Thanks. But really, you, Kate, and Jessica did all the hard work.” Mr. Back, meet Miss Blade! It’s stabbing time! We hugged. “Great meeting you! See you at the conference.” I walked back to my table. Alive. I sat down. I barely ate another bite when Jen FUCKING Mann walked in and took a seat. Do you know who she is? Of course you do, I won’t even entertain that question. I’m not sure she’d like to be called Jen FUCKING Mann, but that’s how she lives in my cerebral filing system. Some bloggers get that treatment, like Jenny FUCKING Lawson and, well, Jen FUCKING Mann. So two bloggers get that treatment. The thing with Jen FUCKING Mann is, she had just shared my Thanks a lot, RUINERS post giving me 5 consecutive days of record-breaking page views. I had to thank her because she was so clearly not a ruiner. But I had to wait. Jumping now while she was sitting down to a meal would be rude. I planned on taking two of her classes during the conference–oh yeah, she was teaching us shit!–and I thought it would be more appropriate to wait until then. We finished our meals and Julie and I jumped into the rest of the weekend. And it went by fast. The sessions answered questions that I didn’t even have yet. It was overwhelming and exhilarating. The people were just as happy to meet me as I was to meet them. I’m still not convinced that they weren’t mocking me in their heads, but I’ll be forever grateful that they cared enough to hide it. What did I learn? I learned I haven’t been putting nearly enough effort into this blog. I learned that this blogging community is made up of some unbelievably awesome people. I learned that maybe I’m not alpha enough to lead a multi-author site. I learned that maybe I’m not as big of a jackass as I think I am. I learned that I love writing and blogging and I’m a million miles from quitting. I learned that I have so much more to learn. And I learned that I want to learn it all. I passed through two of her classes without saying a word to Jen FUCKING Mann even though the only word I really needed to say was “Thanks.” Her Build Your Book class was the only class where I could visualize myself succeeding. The only one where I thought: This. This is what’s next.  The weekend was sliding by. We wouldn’t attend the closing ceremony on Sunday because our plane would be in the air. The only event left was the closing celebration: the Middle School to the Max party thrown by Nickelodeon. I dressed up in my middle school costume which, let’s be honest, probably represented High School Jeff a lot better than Middle School Jeff. But whatever. I went with the determination to find Jen and say thanks and not hate myself forever for letting the chance slip by. We got there and the gym was decked out. There were four different places for people to take photos, a dance floor, two bars, and a whole lot of bloggers. But no Jen. I drank. I posed. I danced. The mysterious and hilarious Darcy had Julie pull me onto the dance floor. I laughed my ass off. I talked with bloggers–some of whom stopped ME to talk to ME. I still can’t get over that. I was chatting with the incredible Chris Dean when I saw Jen walk in. Relief washed over me. Because often in life, it’s either relief or regret. I was the Approacher again. The music was insanely loud. I was completely nervous. She was absolutely gracious. My respect for her only grew. I got to say “thanks.” On the other side of BlogU, I’m a different person. I have new goals and a clear vision. I’ve reset what I expect of myself and how I see this blog. When I go back next year, I will have met my goals. And when I’m there, I’ll make entirely new ones. I had a weekend. And some weekends last a lifetime. &#160; &#160; The only one who had a better weekend than me was my business card. Everyone loved it and decided to take it on adventures. All weekend, and even beyond BlogU, my friends have been sending me pictures of the things my card has done. So far, it has not committed any felonies. The best part in all of this–I can say these amazing people are my friends. &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; Join The Conversation! Easily contribute your story here. &#160; About the Author… Jeff Terry is a humor blogger who is working on winning back his man card by blogging, drinking PSLs, and shaving his chest. He and is wife unschool their three kids as they fumble through life much to the horror of their friends and neighbors. And yes, unschooling is a thing. And no, they have no idea what they&#8217;re doing. You can find Jeff on his blog or Facebook.]]></description>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Setting Big, Scary Goals</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/setting-big-scary-goals/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/setting-big-scary-goals/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 27 Feb 2015 17:00:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Heather]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Career]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dream Big]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goals]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thirty-One]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=3431</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I have always been very goal oriented. I LOVE setting goals and reaching them. One thing that we often talk about in Thirty-One is setting goals. Those big, scary goals. You know the ones I’m talking about, the goals that you have in the back of your mind but make you incredibly nervous to write down or say aloud. I’m very lucky to have a group of other Directors that I chat with daily. Last year when I was working on my goals for my one year anniversary with Thirty-One they asked me what I would like to have by then. I told them “I’d like to be a team of 20, but that goal scares me!” They all replied “well, then that’s your goal. If it doesn’t scare you, it’s not big enough” So that was that, I had a goal to become a team of 20 by my one year anniversary. I wrote it down on my Goal Board and I looked at it every day… and then I reached my goal. By having your goals written down and somewhere where you see them every day, you’re holding yourself accountable. You don’t want to look at those goals every day and say “ugh, I’m not going to be able to reach them”, you want to look at them with determination and tell yourself “I’m working my booty off to reach those goals” I have several stages of goals. Currently on my goal board I have my goals by National Conference, which is less than two weeks away: &#160; See where I crossed out $12,500 and changed it to $15,000? That is an amazing feeling! When you reach your goal ahead of schedule so you have to up your goal. I LOVED crossing that out and challenging myself even more! My goals are displayed on my Thirty-One Hang Up Home Organizer right next to my desk in my office, along with some of my favorite celebratory postcards. Keeping words of encouragement next to your goals is a great way to believe in yourself and in your goals. What are some of your goals? They can be for your family, your home, your business… anything!]]></description>
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