If I could write the posts I want to, I’d be exposed. I am fully transparent online, but exposed is different that transparent and it will never happen that I expose my children, my family, my relationships.

So I don’t. And I doubt many do. If I could, I’d blog about the most random things: my work, my belief in startups, my deep belief in being ProChoice, anti-hate. If I could, I’d write about my kids in a way that is sure to embarrass them as they become teenagers, and I’d blog about becoming single again in my 40s.

There are the posts we write, and the posts we want to write. The former trumps.

Letting it all hang out online?

I’ve been reading for a couple of weeks about employers asking for candidate’s Facebook profile information, and watching the “WHA?!” response from the online community as a whole. I’ve got some thoughts on the matter, and more than that, some tips:

1. Your online persona is completely transparent, even if you think it is not. Period. If you look me up on Facebook, I’ve got pretty good privacy settings, but that won’t keep you (or anyone else) from somehow finding out that I went off on a tirade at my kid’s third grade teacher after he went missing for 40 minutes last month. When the teachers’ union came to me asking me to take down the post, I refused. But I was also reminded that, privacy settings or not, your posts are not private. Not a one. Even the private ones.

2. You have a right to your online persona and no employer can make you give up your private information. Unless, they do. If you’re a public person or a face of a brand or the name behind a brand (even more so for us entrepreneurs) your employer, in my opinion has some right to be concerned about your public persona online and offline. I can hardly be a coke-head stripper by night and be the face of BabyCenter in the day. I get it.

3. Check yourself. No, really. Run a Google Search on yourself frequently, or better yet, set up a Google Alert for your own name (sorry if your name is John Smith, that might give you some inaccurate results). Look at photos of yourself online, make a policy about photo sharing, tagging and blogging and stick to it. I have a strict policy about my kids online. You might want to, also.

4. The world of online communities dates back to CompuServe days and days when we used AOL accounts to troll around chat rooms. Its very core was the ability to communicate from our pajamas with people anywhere in the world, empowered by our ability to speak freely and anonymously. I recall in 1996 when someone in a chat room I used on AOL turned out to be questioned in the disappearance of another woman from our chat room. His name was revealed, unraveling, for me, the mystery of online communities. There is a name — yours — behind every word you say online.

5. Believe in transparency. I believe deeply in transparency online. From a brand perspective, transparency is known to deepen trust between people and products. From a personal perspective, I want to drop-kick the blogs that discuss how perfect life is — as though life is a perfectly set Instagram photo. The ups and downs of our lives are what make us as people, and as brands, humanized.

Should employers be asking for Facebook logins? Not a chance. Should candidates be aware that what we say online is fair game for judging your character? Absolutely.

To save you the five minutes, here is what the Internet says about me… there is comfort in transparency.

Samantha Fein: Google Search

On Twitter: Garza Girl

On Facebook: Samantha Fein

On LinkedIn: Samantha Fein

It’s the story of the kid and the Santa jig, and the jig is up, and you are left as the grownup fool telling your kids for the past eight years that a giant fat man breaks into their house each year. If you’re already a parent of a kid older than mine, you know the sock-in-the-gut feeling of your baby’s childhood blinking away.

Today was that day.

I picked up my sweet Thing 2 from school, a rarity since returning to work. I took her out for a special treat (curry meat pie — my girl is special) and we spied friends outside. While we were chatting with them, our favorite toddler boy, Teddy said, looking at his hand-me-down pink tricycle, “Dis bike too small fo-me!” And his parents replied, “Well maybe you.should.ask.for.a.new.BIKE.from.SAN.TA!

And that was it.

She got it.

In one sentence. It was over.

She looked at me, took my hand, squeezed hard, and said, “Yeah, ‘Santa, or Mommy and Daddy.”

Stunned, I took her by the hand and walked away. I stared at my buddies with that Oh-Holy-Crap-That-Just-Didn’t-Happen eye stare. But it had happened. And there was no going back.

I tried to undo-the-undoable. I told her that our friends were trying to talk their son into asking for a bicycle from Santa instead of from their parents because bikes are expensive. And parents can’t afford bikes. And Santa helps because he can. And, you know, wink, wink, wink.

She didn’t buy it.

She rolled her eyes at me.

So I took her for a fancy haircut at a grownup hair salon to distract her.

Or maybe, to distract me.

She got a bob cut.

It made her look young.

Friends, family, school parents have had to save my butt for volunteer work, school events and personal schedules. I’ve had my tail between my legs for weeks while hours go flying by at work and at home with not.one.moment of respite. I feel terrible. I’m the one that gets it done. I don’t like this phase — the one where I have to be the one who’s ass gets saved.

Boo.

Like it or not, I’d be less efficient if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, I’d be skinner if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, I’m healthier because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’m more emotional because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’m less emotional because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’d have more time for friends, if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, the friends I have are vital and precious, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’d be less tired if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, I’m more awake and alive because I have kids.

Like it or not, I am a less creative marketer, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’m a better marketing leader, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’ve got less time for my parents, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’ve got endless respect for my parents, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’m less passionate about my career, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’m more passionate at the work I do choose, because I have kids.

Like it or not, I’d be so much more wealthy, if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, I’m more driven to be wealthy, because I have kids.

Like it or not, my life would be more free, if I didn’t have kids.

Like it or not, I’ve never known life, before I had kids.

A full, happy, kid-filled weekend.

I looked at her, confused. My eight-year-old floors me frequently.

“Mom, it’s Yom Kippur, today is the day they get to erase all their mistakes.” My brilliant, beautiful, daughter. I told her we all have a chance to erase our mistakes and she tells me, “But today, my eraser can be for them to make their mistakes get erased easier.”

Little Garza Girl, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

]]> http://www.garzagirls.com/2011/09/20/little-garza-girl/feed/ 0 http://www.garzagirls.com/2011/09/15/if-i-was-a-techcrunch-disrupt-wannabe/ http://www.garzagirls.com/2011/09/15/if-i-was-a-techcrunch-disrupt-wannabe/#comments Fri, 16 Sep 2011 00:29:31 +0000 garzag http://www.garzagirls.com/?p=1825 I sat glued to my computer this week, listening to every single tid-bit I could take in from this week’s TechCrunch Disrupt. In years past, I’ve gone rooting for my buddies, cheered-on technologies, and, looked-up phrases I’d never heard of (“Crowd-sourcing” first sounded like some kind of flash mob to me).

This year, the intake was just as intense — big and bold and full of life and technology I could eat-up like a still-warm chocolate chip cookie.

And that’s it. Each of the companies at TechCrunch Disrupt this week had something in common: a solid foundation. A great startup has the makeup of a great chocolate chip cookie,  using all kinds of awesomeness to make our lives better and leave us wanting more and more.

Like all great bakers know, flavors can change, textures can vary and bake time can alter density, but all have the same core ingredients.

The foundation of a great startup and a great cookie are the same: a solid base, some grease to make things run smoothly, a leavening agent to make things rise, and, of course, a sweet overtone.

Chocolate Chip Recipe for Startups

2 1/4 c.  flour to create a solid foundation for the problem you are solving

1 t. baking soda to make the idea rise and grow with purpose

1 t. salt to take when your idea gets bashed

1/4 c. white sugar for addictiveness

1 c. light brown sugar to give the product some richness

2 sticks butter to grease-up users and make their user experience smooth

2 eggs to bind the concept to the real product

1 1/2 t. vanilla to enhance your product’s feature set

1 12-oz bag chocolate chips for making a product special and rewarding

1 c. rough chop nuts because if you’re an entrepreneur, you’re probably nuts anyway

1. Preheat your idea to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Knowing the temperature of the environment is so important to your product. Bake an idea on low heat and you’ll miss the window of opportunity; turn up the heat too fast and you’ll burn (or worse, burn through your seed money).

2. Cream the butter and sugars until smooth. One thing people forget is that if you churn butter too long, it will make your cookies flat and shapeless. Make user interactions smooth, but, don’t over-cream. Instead, firmly lead users to the actions you want them to take (a purchase, a comment, social sharing). Drop every barrier to entry, but be sure to not leave them flat and directionless.

3. Add eggs, one-at-a-time. Eggs bind everything together. This is the place I believe that a great marketer is key. Bring all the elements of technology, a great story, and, clean UI together into a cohesive product. Look at the #tcdisrupt finalists including my favorites, CakeHealth, Bitcasa, Trello, they each have the same binding principals, even though their stories and companies are vastly different. Bind the product together by hiring a great marketer to bring it together.

4. Measure vanilla, and then let it drip a bit over the top. Vanilla is one of those secret ingredients. Taste it on its own and your tongue curls, but leave it out of the perfect chocolate chip cookie, and you’re missing the aroma. I always measure one teaspoon, then let it dribble a bit more into the bowl. The same goes for highlighting your feature sets. Throw your capabilities at a customer and they’ll be left bitter. But give them the aroma of what your product can do for them and they’ll be following the aroma all the way into becoming a repeat customer. Otherwise: don’t oversell your features.

5. Add the dry ingredients. People say to sift the dry ingredients to incorporate. I don’t. I like to gently add them in at a really slow rate, watching them fold into a slow-churning stand mixer. The flour comes first, of course. The ultimate stabilizer is your core product, your core technology and your stable financials. Even if it’s in early beta, it’s still got to be stable enough to hold all the other yummy ingredients together.

Next, I put in the salt. I love salt in cookies. A cookie without enough salt means it’s all too sweet — and that’s just not a reality for a startup. Be ready to take a grain of salt with all of your feedback. That means, be ready to iterate, change and be a grownup enough to handle it when it comes. And it will.

Lastly, I add in the baking soda. I measure this so carefully (really the only thing I strictly measure). Your growth plan — whatever it is — needs to be measured very carefully. What is your rate of growth, how do you plan to scale, and, can your flour and butter and eggs handle how much rise you are giving to it? A growth plan is so much more precise than you can imagine when you’re drawing out little PowerPoint charts of hockey stick-looking growth (Oh, and so is accuracy, which I unfortunately learned once when a VC modeled our market expectations and we had ourselves with a user base larger than the population of China within six years).

6. Take a deep breath and look at your batter. Solid, creamy, full of promise. Now, add the magic and dump in those little chocolate chip morsels. It wasn’t a chocolate chip cookie without the chocolate chips, was it? This is your differentiator, your money call, your 12-minute TechCrunch Disrupt finalists pitch. After all that building and binding, make sure that you didn’t forget why you started all this in the first place — and make sure there’s plenty of that morsel of awesomeness that makes a chocolate chip cookie a chocolate chip cookie and what makes your startup yours.

7. Add the nuts. Not sure about this last step? Trust me. Why the nuts? Some people love nuts, others hate them! Some have anaphylactic shock from nuts. You could kill someone if you add this in! I say add the nuts. Because it takes a little bit of crazy to be an entrepreneur who is willing to take the big risk.

8. Scoop a tablespoon of dough onto baking sheets and put into the oven. It’s ready to go-to-market. The temperature is just right. You have a product ready to go. Bake for eight minutes or until you get traction and the product has risen enough to take it out of the incubation. Some folks cool their cookies completely, but I don’t – a warm, baked idea is wildly desirable and everyone wants a hot cookie — get your product to investors while it’s hot.

9. Make sure no one is looking and put your fingers in the leftover dough, and sneak it in your mouth. You made all that yumminess.

So many ideas, so many companies make it to this point and not beyond. And that’s okay. I keep non-baked cookie dough in my fridge at all times, just like I’ve got new business ideas rattling around in my head all the time. There is little that tastes as good as homemade cookie dough. Somehow the magic of bringing everything together can be more rewarding than a fully baked product. Lick your fingers and enjoy — you’ve created something that has all the fundamentals of the perfectly balanced startup.

Nom, nom, nom.

By now most of us know the brands, the drill, the insider’s club scramble, and the indelible thought of otherwise very classy women with bags on their heads at CheeseburgHer. By now we know that P&G does a huge ditty and that Jimmy Dean has the dancing sun man (they couldn’t possibly pay him enough to do that). We’ve done the booths with milk mustaches and supported one-another’s sponsored companies.

By now we know that last year’s HerBadMother’s fight for Tanner was an emotional moment in time for all of us, and this year, there will be a line of women waiting to donate blood in honor of The Queen of Spain. Underneath the hum of the excitement this weekend Susan is on all of our minds. At the end of the day, we’re women and we’ve got some badass compassion under all those Skinny Bitch margaritas.

You’d think by now I’d be completely done with hangovers and high heels, how-to’s for pros and breakout sessions.

But yeah, I’m not. Because of The Mother Company.

A childhood friend of mine is the founder of The Mother Company, a parent-centric, child-focused company that aims to embrace the social and emotional development of kids.

This is little Abbie, for goodness sake! This is the kid I played soccer with and took ski trips with and played dolls with. (Wait, I don’t think either of us played dolls.) This woman and her team that are making a serious run for becoming the next Mr. Rogers. I think they just might do it.

So I swore off BlogHer until Abbie asked me to come and support her for BlogHer11. And then I packed-up and headed down here to San Diego.

I realized that BlogHer is about companies like this: built by mothers, funded by mothers, produced by mothers. I believe completely in my friend and her mother-driven company. I’m here at because I know what kind of people are behind The Mother Company and I know the products to be full of soul, tackling issues and lifestyles on an intimate, but digestible level.

So I’m here. No parties or hoopla this year. No business card swapping. No sponsors to be touting. And it feels good. I’m here to be a friend. I’m here to support and make introductions here and there. But mostly I’m here to watch a female entrepreneur make a run for the big league.

If you’re at #Blogher11, you can find The Mother Company all the way in the back on the left under the big “600″ sign. Their booth looks like a comfy livingroom. They’re serving ice moca lattes and showing clips from their latest production. They’ve got a limited amount of DVDs to hand out too.

Between the chaos and giveaways and pitches at BlogHer, you’ll find these women to be real and ready to talk about the business of emotional learning for kids. You’ll find me there too, because BlogHer, at it’s core is about relationships. This one was worth being here for.

I’ve had a killer engineer walk out on me after I was (correctly) accused of changing directions for the umpteenth time. I’ve watched exhaustion hit teams of awesome folks after scrambling toward Beta. I’ve pushed things in and out of priority in fear of exceeding my monthly burn rate.  I’ve seen frustation from product owners and developers who are kept from using emerging technologies because previous decisions have already determined the course. SCRUM helps curb eager entrepreneurs and keep focus.

The concept of SCRUM works for startups because, we simply can’t afford to do anything else. Streamlined communication, quick huddles, sprints and backlogs work for us marketeers and entrepreneurs too.

1. Ownership. As startup minds, we tend to own a lot of pieces of a project. Letting ownership creep into other vital parts of the business (say, um, sales), slows down the process and keeps the owners from having command and control over their domains. The next time you, the entrepreneur, thinks your hand belongs in every piece of the pie, remember: you are not the owner of ever piece of the process and meddling in someone else’s sandbox can extend the production process and cause development lags. So hand it over, honey, and let the project owners own. If you can’t do it, be your own SCRUM master and whip yourself a few lashes.

2. Define your SCRUM team. Cross-function is key for us. We’re startups, afterall. But not every function crosses over at the same time or on the same sprint. Assemble the teams, assign the backlog and sprint like hell. Rinse and repeat. This means that each piece of a solution is represented by the person who can accomplish the sprint’s task for their specialty. I bet you’ll put yourself at the tippy top of each of those. When that happens, remember that you and you alone do not a SCRUM team make.

3. Sprint and sweat. I remember one of our first clients who wanted to be able to play with his prototype as we went along. Crazy! How could we have one whole chunk of the process finished enough for him to tap around on?!  Sprints make a lot of sense for startups. The end-product (and the audience it serves) is a moving target. Competition, client needs and learnings all keep things fluid. Overall the product is moving in a forward direction. In a sprint, you bust ass on one thing with no interruptions or changes for about two weeks. Then you huddle-up and check-in. A sprint gets one.thing.done.completely. Put a few sprints together and you’ve got yourself a product.

4. Burndown, not burnout. A great VC told me to put a stake in the ground and move forward from it. The burndown chart is a visual way to track what is left to do during a sprint (and during a full backlog cycle). As a marketer I like the burndown chart because it shows us where we’ve come from and what we’ve got left to do. It puts all of us team members, team leaders and product owners on the same page. We know what we’ve done (YAY us!) and what’s left to do (time to bust-a-move).

5. The Daily Bread. SCRUM meetings are an ADD’d out, caffeine-deficient person’s heaven. A daily 15-minute meeting with three questions for each person: (a) What have you done since yesterday? (b) What will you do today? (c) Is there anything standing in your way today?  I love this method. For entrepreneurs, we have a truckload of things to do in a day. Are you kidding me? But apply a daily SCRUM approach to your day, to your team and create an environment where everyone is on the same page. When you’re head-down in building at the speed of light, it feels good to know where everyone else stands.

Applying SCRUM to a startup environment creates a sense of ownership, but not dictatorship. It protects the process (the sprint process and the greater product). SCRUM determines the collective path and knocks back daunting tasks by breaking it down into chunks of successful sprints. It shows you where you’ve come from as a startup, as a series of smaller teams and as a lean response team. We don’t code in a box. We don’t sell in a bubble. We don’t market in a funnel. We huddle, we call the play and we play it.

At night I fall asleep looking at my wall, reminded of all the blessings around me. Call it what you will — divine or not, religious or not, complex faith or simple blind gut instinct. My wall is my faith and running is my church. And right now, my wall is for Susan.

The past few days, my wall has been pounded on with thoughts — I’ve hit every single deity and then some, praying for a woman I do not know well and have only met twice. Her princess army is strong, her fight is extraordinary and unfair and hateful. She is very sick.

In the midst of job interviewing, offers and decisions, I find myself thinking of Susan every day. So many times a day. I think of how brave she is, what a mother-fricker cancer is. I think of my children and I hold them closer just thinking about her. I want to do something — anything, anything any thing. And there is nothing to do, but stare at my wall this week, and beg the treasures that calm me to sleep every night, to send the same peace to her.

NO PRINCESS FIGHTS ALONE.

My beautiful twin superheroes turn 8 today. You are the greatest humans I have ever known. I love you.

In the past few days, I’ve spoken with some fantastic companies and, as you’ve probably experienced yourself,  I’ve been asked the same battery of questions by almost every person I’ve spoken with. What do you say we make it easier on all of us? I’ll just go ahead and answer the questions now… then we can move onto the fun stuff like experience and interest and cool technology.

To the recruiters who are seeing my blog for the first time (welcome and, um, happy-ish reading), this, like most of my writing, is just plain silliness.

Q: What is your ideal job?

A: Well, I could be snarky and say, “Not having one,” but that’s not true at all. I love to work on projects I can wrap myself around. My ideal job today would be a VP Marketing role in a smaller size company that is building out or rebuilding their marketing initiatives. My ideal job would involve working with smack-down-smart brainypants, because, well, that’s what I call fun. I’d throw in a tasty product that is actually exciting to market and one that could benefit from my experience. I’d like to learn from my colleagues. Mama always says, “Learn and teach, learn and teach to keep the balance of work just right.”

Q: What is Threxy? It sounds a little dirty.

A: Threxy is not an adult business, although I’ve made sales programs for enough of them to know more than I should about it. Threxy stands for “Three Ex-Yahoos!” and it’s a company we started in 2005 with three ex-Yahoos (product, engineering and me, the marketer). We had a product idea that we incubated and took through the funding stage. A killer VC told me to scrap it, take the assets and create something new. He was right. From the bones of FamilyRoutes came a six-year business that built online products, developed product and marketing strategies and knocked back about $1 million in revenue. Not bad for a true cottage (like, really, in.my.cottage) startup.

Q: What are your salary requirements?

A: Now, really. Etiquette says to never talk about money, sex or politics and we’ve already covered two of the three. My consulting rate is about $150/hour. That would be over $300,000 per year if I applied the same metrics to a 40-hour work week. I’m not asking for that much, not even in the same ballpark. So there you go.

Q: What makes you a good fit for this role?

A: See, this is a trick question. No one is the perfect fit. It doesn’t happen. It’s about having the right skills to apply to the right company, at the right time, with the right team. Stars have to align — that or a great recruiter. Which is why I’m on this call anyway. So tell me, what makes me a good fit for this role?

Okay, maybe not the way to answer that one. I know people apply to hundreds of jobs online. I’ve known friends and colleagues who click Apply to every job with their keyword search results. That’s not my approach. I’m looking for a company to call home, a place to sink my brain into, and a place to enjoy watching a company grow and develop. I’m only applying to companies where I think I’m a good fit. That said, I’ve had two calls already where the job description and the job offered were different things. Thank goodness for great recruiters who can navigate it with me.

Q: So you graduated from Syracuse University in 1992?

A: <<Crickets>>. Most people don’t know that I didn’t ever receive a degree. I left Syracuse University in 1992 with a good education and a lot of life lessons, but no, I did not graduate, despite my genius IQ. Did I just say that out loud?

Q: Are you willing to relocate?

A: Nope. San Jose to San Francisco is about the max I’m willing to shift. I have too good of a life to consider anything else.

Q: Do you do SM, SEO/SEM, CRM, UGC, SCRUM or PCP?

A: Yes, I have been doing social media since before SM was a catchphrase and I’ll be doing it long after it is called by another name. Social media to me = customer engagement where customers are. SEO/SEM are in my planning and management suite but not my day-to-day job. There are people a lot more skilled than I at executing on SEO/SEM. CRM is old fashioned lead generation and customer retention. So yes, I’m a marketer to customers and CRM is about customers. I earned my chops building, monetizing and growing UGC. I’d consider myself well versed. I know the SCRUM philosophy because two of my clients are using it and because I try to follow what product and engineering are doing. After all, the whole reason you have a company is for the product, right? PCP, nah, but thanks.

Q: Tell us something unique about you so that your resume will stand out!

Are you telling me my resume doesn’t stand out? Okay, fine. Here you go: I once spent five minutes alone with Michael Jackson. There you go. Does my resume stand out now?

Q: It must be hard closing your company and going in house.

A: Not really. I’ve been looking forward to it for a year. This step was planned and I’m literally thrilled and like a kid waiting to open birthday presents over finding just the right company to work for. I am very proud of the company I built, but I’m also proud to say that phase of my career has finished and I’m onto this next one.

I glance at the clock 12:04 a.m. — cleaning up the dishes from dinner tonight. I’m not at El Amparo.  In Granada breakfast is being served. I’m not in Granada. I’m am home.

Our last day was a little hectic. Carter wanted a glass figurine on I’le de – I’le de something. Not the big island, the smaller one. Things got funky that day – Sherry got backwards and I got annoyed. I got us back to Jardin d’ Acclamacion (yes, again) and the kids got to jump on giant outdoor trampolines, go zip-lining and ride a bunch of fun kid rides. But today was the day that time was too short and we had to high-tail it back to the apartment. Somewhere along the way Carter got motion sick and we had to jump off the Metro.

We walked for fresh air while Sherry went to the apartment and we got delayed when we didn’t find her and visa-versa. A quick glass of wine and snacks for the kids and we were off to the train station for the overnight train to Milan.

Oh dear.

When we got to the station, I knew something was wrong. I just knew we were in the wrong place. I ran around to confirm , and sure enough, the overnight TVG to Milan was at a different train station across town — and, it was leaving in 35 minutes.

I grabbed my backpack and the kids and ran.

I wouldn’t have cared. Miss a train? So what. But we had non-refundable tickets at 400 euro. The kids kept up and we ran for a cab. He told us it was unlikely to make the train in traffic. Maybe I should have picked the Metro to transfer us. But the bags and the kids…. it was tricky. They can’t do a lot of stairs with their backpacks.

With six minutes to go, we were literally running through the train station, racing for the train. We made it. Sort of.

The tickets I had were reservations, not tickets and the office was at the other end of the terminal. I dropped my bags and ran again. I could feel people looking at me and I got scolded at the ticket office. A hot guy was screaming at me, “Your train. IS. LEEE-VEE-ING.” Again, for the umpteenth time today, I ran.

The family cheered as I jumped on the train. “Go Team Fein!” We were on our way.

I wish I could say things got easier. Sherry was exhausted. Carter and I were motion sick and Ava frustrated with us whackos. The dinner reservation lady came around and we booked inner — as she walked away, she said. “Cash Only.” We had 15 euro — that’s it. Four people, twelve hours and no food.

Eventually we talked them into taking my secret $100 bill that my mom had given me and they changed it for euro — just enough for a sandwich, chips and two plates of plain pasta. Ugh. It didn’t matter, I was so motion sick that I couldn’t stand up. Carter too. We lied in our cots and told stories in the dark because the lights and movement made us want to throw up.

Ripped sheets, yucky toilets, loud, bumpy train. We arrived today in Milan at 5:20 a.m. ready for bed.