Some people have it, but most don’t. For those who have it, it permeates every area of their life. They look for it in everyone else. Those who don’t have it are naturally drawn to it, but they don’t know why. It attracts the opposite sex.

What am I talking about?

Left handedness.

Just kidding. I’m talking about authenticity. I define authenticity as knowing who you are and never making any effort to appear any other way.

This is an interesting topic to me because it’s something I’ve gotten a handle on recently. I realized that the people who were universally liked and admired, were NEVER the stereotypical “cool people”.

They aren’t the people who are cold and removed, who act like characters from some TV show, who keep up with the latest trends. That isn’t to say that those people aren’t liked… but they’re generally liked only by similar people.

However, people who have visible quirks, eccentricities, even faults, but make no excuses or apologies for them are liked by EVERYONE.

A great example is Amy, the waitress I wrote about a few posts ago. She’s the kind of person who lays it all out on the table from the beginning, and doesn’t even consider who her audience is. It’s inescapably magnetic.

Authentic people are usually really happy because they don’t have the constant struggle of trying to fit into an impossible mold of what they think is cool.

When I think about my friends, I realize that all of them are very authentic. They don’t try to be people they aren’t… they are who they are and they’re happy with that. I think of people I used to be friends with who I grew apart from, and I realize that they’re almost all people who weren’t authentic.

I read some of a book called “Radical Honesty”, recommended to me by my friend Hayden. It’s written about a guy named Brad Blanton who NEVER lies. He’s the epitome of authenticity. I found the book a bit boring, but the concepts were fascinating. I haven’t fully integrated it (yet?) because at the extreme end you’re supposed to always say whats on your mind, no matter what it is.

I don’t think that’s a terrible idea. I think back and can’t think of a single thing I’ve been told that I wish I wasn’t told. Still, it does call for saying some pretty insulting things.

Pickup is an interesting journey to authenticity. I believe that anyone who follows it through will become extremely authentic. If there’s a process that makes you take a very honest look at yourself but also realize that people like you for who you are, it’s pickup.

At the same time, beginners or even people in intermediate stages of pickup are usually VERY inauthentic. They’re the guys who try to “be alpha” all the time. Anyone in pickup knows exactly who I’m talking about.

The cool thing about authenticity is that it does a lot for you. It makes you more attractive. People want to do business with you because they know you’re not going to screw them over. It makes it easy to be your friend.

Then again, so does being lefthanded.

It’s 2002 and I haven’t even heard of the pickup community. It’s a shame because there is just about nothing I need more.

I get on my plane, headed back to Austin. It’s a late flight and there aren’t too many people on it. I have a whole row to myself. I’m not paying attention, and before I know it we’re airborne.

The cabin lights are off, but some people have their reading lights on, creating small islands of light in the darkness of the plane. The island in front of my is inhabited by two girls.

I can’t see them, but I can hear them. I take voyeuristic pleasure in sitting in my dark row, listening to the girls talk in front of me. They’re ballet dancers and they’re talking about their dance class.

After a few minutes the novelty of their conversation wears off and I fire up my computer. I have to work on my gambling spreadsheet and figure out who owes me money. Professional gambling is less glamorous than it sounds, and this is the epitome of dullness.

Finally we land in Austin. I join the people in the stupid rush to stand up, even though the door is still closed. We stand halfway in the aisle, halfway in front of the seat, necks craned at an unnatural angle to avoid the overhead bins.

I start instant messaging friends from my phone, one of the original Sidekicks. One of the girls from the row in front of me is standing up and facing me. I can feel her looking at me. I want to say something, but have no idea what.

“What is that thing?”

I look up. She’s beautiful. Time to be smooth. Suave. Confident.

“Oh… umm… it’s… well… it’s like a phone. But I can get on the internet too.”

Nope. That’s not smooth, suave or confident. I jerk my head back down and stare at the screen. She’s looking at me, expecting me to talk to her. What can I say? Probably best to avoid talking to her.

It seems like an eternity passes, but the cabin door finally opens and we pour out of the plane. I start walking, pulling my carry on suitcase behind me.

She’s following me. I just know it. But why?

I walk a little faster. No need for any awkwardness. I have no idea how to talk to girls, especially strange beautiful ones.

I think she’s still following me.

I glance casually to the left to check the reflection in the big windows looking out over the tarmac. It’s almost midnight so they’ve turned into mirrors in the dark.

She is following me.

I pick up the pace.

I hear the wheels from her luggage. Ka chunk. Ka chunk. They’re getting faster.

My pace is now close to a power walk. If I go any faster I’m going to have to start jogging. She’s gaining on me. What does she want?

I suddenly slow down and she pulls up beside me and glances over.

I look straight ahead.

“Hi.”

I act as if I hadn’t noticed her, “Oh, Hi.”

She introduces herself. I introduce myself. We walk from the far end of the airport all the way to baggage claim. I’ve calmed down a bit and am actually making decent conversation. I say a few funny things and she laughs.

“Did you check bags?” She asks.

“Oh, yeah. One.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

“Cool.”

We chat some more while I wait for my bag. Things might be going well, but I can’t tell. I’m focused 100% inside my head, trying to psyche myself up.

“Ask for her number. You’ve got to do it. This is your chance. You’ve never asked a girl for her number. She’s really hot. I mean REALLY hot. Just do it.”

I realize that I have no idea what we’re talking about. I’m just mumbling yes or no without paying any conscious attention to the conversation.

My bag comes. Time is running out. I slowly walk to the sliding glass doors. The wave of Austin heat hits me.

“So. What are you doing tonight?”

What a weird question. Why would she care what I’m doing tonight?

“Oh, probably just some work. I have a lot of stuff to … ” OH! That’s WHY! IDIOT! “… to do… umm…”

She frowns.

“Oh, ok. Yeah, I should probably get some sleep.”

“CAN I HAVE YOUR NUMBER?”

I blurt it out with the confidence of a tit mouse.

“Yes.”

She gives me her number. I mentally jump kick myself in the face a few times for not realizing that she wanted to hang out with me that night. I go home and think about her.

After three grueling swinger-inspired days of waiting, I finally call her.

“Hey, do you want to go out with me to have dinner on Friday?”

“I’d love to.”

The End.

Oh, the date? During dinner when I found out that she’d gone on a date with Jay-Z I refused to stop talking about it, which was very lame and annoying. Then she refused to answer my calls.

She told me that she wanted to talk to me the whole flight, but she kept turning around and looking over the seat at me and I didn’t notice her.

Ahoy! After six months of doing little other than working on it, Conversion Doubler is finished. You can see the rough draft of my copy at www.conversiondoubler.com. YES! It feels great to be done. It came out amazingly well… I’m 100% confident it’s the best product out there. If anyone who reads here would like a copy, I will give it to you for 75% off ($50/mo). The catch? You must have posted a comment to the blog, sent me an e-mail, or have had an account before today on my forums.

In other news, my RV is for sale. If anyone here would like to carry on the tradition of being a nomad, here’s the link : Tynan’s RV. Even if you don’t want to buy it, there are a bunch of pictures taken by my brother, so you can see how I lived for 9 months!

I wrote an article for Alex Shalman about my new productivity system that I talked about in my new years post. Check it out and come join me in the forums where I keep track of my progress every day.

For those of you reading RSS, check out the site. There’s a new story about me infiltrating Best Buy that ma not show up on RSS.

I’ve been reading Atlast Shrugged lately. What an amazing book. You should read it, ESPECIALLY if you think greed and money are evil.

We were up in Houston visiting a friend who was very excited about a thrift shop.

Normally I’m not a thrift shop kind of guy. I’m too particular about what I buy and I just don’t like shopping that much.

But this time I was excited.

Located on the bad side of town in a run down strip mall, this particular store was known for one thing: having a lot of old employee uniforms. Being college aged and particularly prone to mischief, we couldn’t help but imagine the stories an official looking employee shirt might contribute to.

So we bought piles of them. Texaco, McDonalds, Taco Bell, and of course… Best Buy.

At first we’d wear them around campus, then slowly they made their way to the back of the closet, and eventually they were put in boxes and nearly forgotten.

Until, one day, Austin and I decided to prank Best Buy.

We put on khakis and our Best Buy shirts (Austin’s was actually just a royal blue Polo shirt since we only had one official shirt).

Something was missing, though. We needed nametags.

A few minutes at the computer later, we created the most glorious nametags that were ever to see the insides of a Best Buy. We decided that “Super Associate” was probably the most fitting title for each of us. We also decided that our names might be a bit too bland, so I switched mine to “Mahatma” and Austin switched his to “Cornelius”.

Before heading out we walked into the kitchen where my mother was.

She didn’t believe that we had actually gotten jobs at Best Buy, and also didn’t believe that my real name was Mahatma.

“Tynan… you shouldn’t do that…”

She said it with a smile on her face that revealed that she wished she didn’t think it was funny.

We jumped into Austin’s car and headed for the south Best Buy in Austin, Texas.

When we got there we put our shirts into a shopping bag which we then put inside a shopping cart. Our white shirts and khakis looked average and uneventful.

We nervously pushed the cart inside and headed for the bathroom in the very back. There we miraculously transformed ourselves into super associates and headed down the long bathroom hallway to the store.

We split up.

Immediately it felt like EVERYONE was watching me. Would they think I was a new employee? Would they know I was an imposter?

I started asking people if I could help them. NO ONE wanted my help. I greatly underestimated how terrified customers were of salespeople.

“Anything I can help you with? Anything at all?”

“No.”

Finally I found a middle aged woman looking at web cams.

“What’s the difference between these two?” she asked.

One was a hundred dollars. The other was a thirty dollar refurb.

“Not much other than the price,” I responded.

She seemed stunned so I continued.

“Yeah, it’s really just the brand name. Get the cheap one and save money because you probably won’t actually use the thing anyway. No one ever does.”

She mumbled something and took the cheap one. I felt good.

More and more eyes seemed to be on me.

I helped another customer find the section they needed. Of course I had no idea where that section was, so we just wandered around together for a few minutes.

After twenty minutes or so I realized that I hadn’t seen Austin in action yet. I walked around looking for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

He must have gone back to the bathroom. Maybe he got caught. I went down the long hallway to the bathroom, but he wasn’t there. I must have missed him.

I left the bathroom and started heading down the hallway.

Just as I was half way through the hallway a real employee started heading towards me.

Nowhere to run.

“Hi!” he said.

“Oh, hi!”

“Do you work here?”

Umm…

“No, I work at the north store. I was thinking about transferring here.”

“Oh yeah? You really should. It’s a great place to work. My name’s John.”

I glanced down at my name tag.

“Mine’s Mahatma.”

No reaction. Seriously?

We chatted for a few more minutes and then went our separate ways. As I hit the store floor I locked eyes with an employee. I instinctively started walking away from him.

Was he following me?

I walked faster, not bothering to ask people if they needed help. He was following me.

Finally he caught up.

“Where’s your friend?”

“What friend?”

“The one in the blue shirt.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“You have to leave.”

“Ok.”

I left the store an headed back to Austin’s car, sure that he’d be there already.

But he wasn’t.

I took off the blue shirt and headed back inside. I walked through the whole store but couldn’t find him anywhere so I went back outside.

I sat down on a curb and watched the front of the store.

All of a sudden a head popped out. It frantically looked both ways. When it liked what it saw, the whole body came running out towards the car.

It was Austin.

We excitedly shared stories. He spent a good part of his time berating someone for buying a VCR, telling them that what they really wanted was a DVD player and that VCRs were totally useless.

The customer made it clear that all of her videos were on tape. Austin told her to buy new ones because VCRs are terrible.

Another customer wanted a toaster. He followed Austin all over the entire store because neither had no idea where the toasters were. When they finally found them, Austin tried to convince the man that no toaster other than the most expensive could possibly toast things adequately.

The End.

I don’t expect to be posting very much here for the forseeable future, maybe once or twice a month. Most new and exciting things that I’m up to are related to Life Nomadic, so make sure you check for my posts (and subscribe to the RSS) there.

The good news is that I will be posting at least twice a week there, Todd is posting as well, and I upload photos and write quick updates every day. Posts that I make to BTYB will be more “personal development” related, as well as projects I’m working on (like conversion doubler).

I also check the forums every day.

Anyway, this is just a reminder for anyone who is checking this site wondering why updates are a bit slow.

In other news, Life Nomadic is taking off. I believe that it will be a hugely successful site within a few months. In our first week we’ve already hit StumbleUpon (thanks to Alex Shalman, who is always very generously looking for ways to help me out), and Tim Ferriss linked to us because Donovan from Seduction Chronicles let him know about us.

Thanks for the help and thanks a lot for reading!

Life Nomadic

I’m at the airport now waiting for the first flight. We’re headed to Panama and have nowhere to stay. Adventure time!

Tons to say, but I’m exhausted and only have a minute. Check out our new site at www.lifenomadic.com later today.

I got back from Boston on the 28th of December, giving me 10 days in Austin before Todd and I leave on the world trip.

Every day counts now.

I’ve been spending TONS of time with my friends. I’ve been slaughtering my backlog of important but not urgent todo items. I’m not wasting a minute. I’m hugging people. I’m making sure that I put aside time for everyone and everything I want to do.

In short, even though it’s a bit hectic (I have four days left to sell my mercedes and my RV), I’m totally enjoying each day AND getting tons of stuff done. The “getting stuff done” part is mostly due to my new productivity system I’ve implemented for 2008. If you’re interested, you can actually read my daily output and productivity levels in the forums’ accountability section.

Anyway, I was thinking… why isn’t EVERY day like this?

It SHOULD be.

I think back to only a few months ago, or even worse, before I started working on conversion doubler. WEEKS would pass by with nothing happening. I’d make baby steps towards my goals. I’d bump into a friend here and there. That’s valuable time I wasted.

I once heard a great quote. I wrote it down as the only line in a text file I always keep on my phone.

“The only thing you’ll regret is the time you’ve wasted.”

MAN. It’s so true.

I’d kill for a week back that I wasted this summer. I have so much to do and I’d love to spend some more quality time with my friends before I leave.

From now on, this is how my days are going to be. What did I do today that was productive? What did I do today that was fun? How about memorable?

And another thing…

I’ve been posting a lot here recently. Every four days for the past three weeks. Nothing to brag about, but an improvement, no? When I’m in the HABIT of doing things, I do MORE of EVERYTHING.

I’ll be honest, the blog is a low priority right now. I have stuff to sell, stuff to give away, stuff to buy, and stuff to throw away. We still don’t have anywhere to stay in Panama. I want to spend as much time as possible with ALL of my friends. But still, I’m so “in the groove” that I post. Right now I’m waiting for a file to upload for Conversion Doubler, so I’m writing a post while I wait.

Yeah.. I’m even working on Conversion Doubler. I almost just went to sleep, but I knew that today would not be a 3 out of 3 if I didn’t do some serious work on it. Then I realized it still wouldn’t be a 3 if I didn’t write this post.

“Want something done? Give it to a busy person.”

That’s the idiom, and it’s true.

By the way… Tyler put out his 2008 goals on his blog. Not to be outdone, I’m stealing two of his… 2000 pages of books read per week and 20 minutes of meditation per day. I’m going to wait until the trip starts, though.

P.S. Want to buy my car or RV? E-mail me.