How Facebook Burned Me With Target Advertising

Well played Facebook, and the geniuses who run the marketing department. This advertisement just showed up in my News Feed. Ironic? Hardly. I’ve spent the last few days creating blogs like a machine (no kids this weekend!), and what-do-ya-know? The crickets are back, and my posts are going unnoticed.

I guess I need to get with the program and:

  1. Create Better Blogs For People to “Pretend” to Read
  2. Start Writing During the Week Like Normal People
  3. Wait Until Christmas Eve to Post My Next Masterpiece. 

Right? I mean, it’s only the last week of summer… I can’t be the only loser protecting my skin from cancer by parking it on the couch. Right?

Keep scrolling…I’d like to answer Facebook’s question….

Facebook Burn!

Well Played Facebook and the “target marketing” advertising geniuses!!

Dear Marketing Stalkers at Facebook,

Thanks for the cool ad today, obviously, you all are paying attention to my blog. Whoot! Whoot! And, looks like I’m not the only one working today either—the robots didn’t get the weekend off? Boo!

Anyway, to answer your question:

FACEBOOK: “Tired of Writing Great Articles that Nobody Reads?”

LOSER BLOGGER: “No! I’m not tired of creating hilarious blog posts for my MOM to read. She’s a HUGE fan. Personally, I think I’ll just grab a piece of scented stationary and a pen for the next blog. I’ll whip up some fancy paragraphs littered in calligraphy and send the post directly to her mail box. It’ll be cool.”

GOOD LOOKIN’ OUT FRIENDS! :)

 

By The Time I’m 40 Facebook Archives of My Life From 2009

 

Over the course of my history on Facebook, I have shared everything about my life. Here is one from the archives that has put a little pressure on me. In 2009, I had a goal— Oops! I had 4 years and 364 days to accomplish it but like always, I’ve procrastinated. 100 days to go…. 

 

 

By the Time I'm 40

Facebook Archives of my Life Infographic- By the Time I’m 40.

Walkabout: A Journey of Healing After Dad Died

Walkabout: Journey of Healing

Photo by Robin Matteri Facebook

A documentation of healing, humor and perspectives that define people

Walkabout was a term coined by the Australian Aborigines. It was a reference to a spiritual journey. Many Aborigines sought out spiritual teachings in the landscape of their land and home as a way of finding a “Sacred Belongingness”.

My dad, who thought he pioneered the term, used it to round up his buddies in an attempt to walk “about” the town looking for fun. Today my family and I use the term as a reference to walking “about” the town in search of people, places and things that are important to us as community members.

A few days after Christmas in 2007, my dad passed away suddenly in his home.

He lived in Patterson for 55 years: was an active member of the community and the owner of Patterson Glass. He spent his lunch hours watching The Andy Griffith Show and his evenings laughing with Spongebob Squarepants.

SpongeBob SquarePants (character)

SpongeBob SquarePants (character) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Although he dreamed of living on the beach he knew Patterson was home and he loved it.

After spending some time in Patterson, my eagerness to explore the outside world took over and I parted ways from his community and didn’t return until after his death.

I chose a walkabout that led me straight back to the landscape I had originated from.

So, I began my journey of the walkabout. A rather simple one that solely consisted of walking.

I walked every morning and most afternoons; eager to meet the community; eager to talk to anyone that would listen and eager to embrace and be embraced. It became a ritual of getting to know the people, the places and landscape of the town in an attempt to feel a sense of belonging. As it turned out the city I despised a decade ago would come to surprise me in many ways.

As I walked, I began to make peace. Peace with my dad, peace with the community and peace with the people. And, with peace came confidence; and with confidence came ambition; and with ambition came life and excitement.

The overall pleasantness of the community not only surprised me but also gave me hope.

Family and the pursuit of togetherness and belongingness are essential aspects of life to those who reside here.

Today (Man, I think–Maybe it Was Yesterday) I Began to Share Poetry at Bubblews

 

To be vulnerable is an art, poetry is the easy part ——–Robin Matteri

…I do not know what prompted my sign-up at Bubblews.com but I decided to jump—I just can’t remember the day.

And in the words of my favorite dead singer…

“And as a matter of fact, as we discovered on the train, tomorrow never happened, man. It’s all the same f*cking day, man”  ——Janis Joplin

 

For some reason, I am registered at every damn social networking, and writing platform online.

 

Pretty sure Google just LOVES that.

 

Don’t ask me why?

Don’t ask me how?

Don’t tell me I’m annoying…..

————- Here’s a quick peek—————-

The Love of My Life: Apart for 18 Years

I shared my poetry. You know–the words I referred to in my blog about the beginning of my writing career. Oh, what? You didn’t read it? Well… here you go friend. ———-> Lessons

The poetry began as words—lyrics, actually—but I never learned how to play the guitar, she I squashed that dream.

 

For years, I kept these words tucked away. I was anxious to share.

But, it’s been amazing.

Part of the Tortured Poetry Collection of Robin Matteri

Part of the Tortured Poetry Collection of Robin Matteri

 

Here’s what I know for sure:

When you write genuinely, and respectfully, people respond. You know why?

You’re never alone.

Your thoughts, are unique to you, but shared by many.

Pain, heartache, and sadness are not prejudice, and do not unfairly select you.

The same goes with happiness, or so I’ve been told anyway!

If you’d like to stop by and check out my stuff, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Lessons From a Writer (That’s Me!): Dial-Up Internet and A Chump

I’m not really sure how it all happened but at the age of 31, and with very little effort, I became a freelance writer.

In 2006 I began writing 500-700 word articles that were keyword specific, Search Engine Optimized and rewrites. Each article required research, links, and unique content. I was working full-time as a poker dealer during the day but at night, I was living the glamorous life of a writer.

Dial-up Internet, the largest desktop known to man and street cred.

I WAS A WRITER, BABY!

Wide Open Spaces--the world was waiting for this writer

Wide Open Spaces–the world was waiting for this writer

Let me back up- I can’t remember if I ever consciously thought about, or wanted to be a writer. I kept a journal consistently during high school and early into my 20s. As the years went on, my journal became a place for vulnerability and a sort of poetry.

I wanted to write songs but didn’t know how to play an instrument so that seemed impossible. I wrote words instead.

journal and notes

The Infamous Composition Book — All the Tortured Poetry Lives Here

Sometimes I cut words out of magazines and arranged them to create “tragic” poetry—would be lyrics–if I only knew three guitar chords.

When the world shifted from ink pens to keyboards, I was SCREWED!

How the hell could computers not be a passing fancy? In high school I laughed at the typing class students (because I was so cool, being in the F.F.A and all) and swore, I would never learn to type (or sew—two decisions I grew to regret).

I went a very long time defending my high school stance and upholding the anti-typing vow.

The Beginning of My Freelance Career

I had giant balls in January, 2006 when I decided to submit a personal essay about being a new mother to a writing site. Imagine my surprise when two weeks later I received this email,

“Robin, I’d love to feature this story on my website as it is creative, humorous, and a fun read. I did edit the text quite a bit to adhere to the guidelines of writing for the Web, and to correct grammar and punctuation errors. I look forward to future submissions and strongly recommend a refresher in grammar.”

Holy crap! I was going to be famous!

Naturally, This is What I Did Next

I applied for writing jobs. Literally, thought I was on my way to a feature in Vogue.

I got my first gig within no time.

My “editor” sent five orders at a time. I didn’t choose the topic or negotiate word count or any details. The instructions for each article were simple. I didn’t know then but I know now-I was being primed for sweat-shop labor in the content mill industry.

This is what I received:

  • Topic to research (ex: Summer vacation in Paris, France-Things to do, places to stay, etc.)
  • Required keywords and density (ex: 15%)
  • Required word count (MIN 500/Maximum 1,000)
  • Deadline (ex: 24 hours)
  • Rate of pay

I spent hours perfecting each piece. I researched hostels, sightseeing, foreign travel tips, and fun ideas for the International traveler. I was bored to death and frustrated easily and considered myself to be a tortured writer like all the most famous ones before me.

I wrote a paragraph and then hastily deleted it-called it junk-in obvious imitation of the writer’s I envisioned in my head. I cured writers block with mundane tasks like preparing dinner and worked furiously into the wee hours of the morning.

I thought I was Tolstoy.

I was writing website content.

As a ghostwriter.

For a ghostwriter.

 Outsourcing Writer Actually Taught Me How to Write

I had no concept that my “work”–expertly crafted with proper keyword density and links to destinations in Paris–would be credited to some chump writer who had perfectly executed the system of Capitalism.

I knew right away that I was doing something right when after the first 5-10 articles; I received no revision requests or notes about editing. I sucked at punctuation (still do) and was honest about appreciating constructive feedback. I was inundated with requests to write more and was on cloud nine every time she commented on my skill as a writer.

BAM! I was in….

I landed this gig after to replying to a job posting  and WAS THRILLED to have “finally” made it into the world of writers.

I was being paid $1-$3 per article. HAHAHAHA…..

I didn’t know enough to bitch about it.

It didn’t take me long to see I was being “scammed” by another writer. I was so new and naive but extremely arrogant as well.

I refused to read articles that offered advice to new writers. I wanted to figure it all out myself. I didn’t want to spend hours researching the industry of writing.

I just wanted to write….and, meet Oprah.

After all, I was published online after my very FIRST submission. DUH! I was a natural.

Today, I am writing full-time, learning about punctuation, and developing a career that I’m proud of.

I’ve had to put the creative writing on-hold for the moment, but I’m not going to give up. I’ve still got some junk in the trunk that’s gonna need some editing, and a place to live.

You’re Not The Boss of Me, These Two Are

The CEO and CFO of “Robin Matteri Writer”

CEO and CFO of ME--My Boys

 

 

 

….. the company doing business as, “Mom!”

 

I may not punch in and out, and do not have hours consistent to you regular folks— ya know, like, Monday to Friday. The wages may be borderline on nothing, but, the fringe benefits are enormous.

Thanks for supporting us by reading my writing…. it’s appreciated by everyone.

My son and I age 10 1293832509587

Infographic: How Profound: The Facebook Archive Speaks Wisdom

<img src="image.gif" alt="howprofoundfacebookarchives" />

Facebook Archives Philosophy Robin Matteri Copyright 2014

From the Facebook archives of my life, I find something profound from a few years ago. At some point in life we all go through periods where we examine our path and wonder if we’re doing what we always wanted to be doing.

For me, these times always involve alcohol.

In this particular case, the beer was amazing at crafting words of philosophical genius.

For the record, I’m finally doing what I’ve always wanted to be doing. It’s making me feel guilty about not doing what I should be doing.

The tortured irony of my life never gets old.

Silently Bragging; WE Know You Are

Taken from the elusive archive downloads that encompasses my Facebook life, this little number is only ONE in a long line of bitter status updates meant to be hilarious–oh, and honest. I was on Facebook 24/7 (as you’ll find out in future posts), and consumed by social interaction via technology for some reason.

Probably because I didn’t have to do my hair that way…

If you’re like me, there was a time when the brand new world of smartphone-enriched social lives took control of everything. It was so exciting to be connected so easily, and immediately. I’m not sure that excitement has worn off but I’ll let you know if it does.

 

<img src="image.gif" alt="facebookbraggingstatusarchives" />

Archived Facebook Status Update from Robin Matteri Copyright 2014