PLAYER 2 HAS ENTERED THE GAME

Build the thing that runs your life. Then go live it.

Eight weeks. Up to 12 women. Live calls where we actually click the buttons. You leave with your own AI first mate, built on your own accounts, doing the parts of your life you've been dreading.

I use AI so I don't have to niche down. Niching down feels like death.

I run a design studio, a spell shop, a planner, four kids, and a brain that wants to do all of it at once. The only reason that works is a system I built over the last year and a half with an AI that reads my inboxes, watches my money, keeps my notes, and reminds me what I said I'd do. It took the dread out of running my life.

We don't use AI for the sake of using it. We use it so we can be in our creativity more. Sharing this feels like a no-brainer, so this winter I'm doing it with a small group of women. I'm not teaching you about AI. I'm sitting next to you while you build yours.

Not a course. A build.

• WEEK 0You tell me what you hate. The parts of running your life and business you avoid, dread, or do at midnight. That's your build list. Mine was email.
• THE CALLSLive, small, hands on keyboards. Not me talking at you. Information is everywhere, including inside your own AI. The calls are where we install the things, click the buttons, and don't hang up until it works.
• BETWEENA group chat that's always open. Ask the stupid question. Help each other. Use the thing you built; that's the homework.
• WEEK 8You walk out with a system you can run, change, and grow, and enough comfort to ask your own AI how to build the next piece. You won't need me after. That's the point.

• No AI for the sake of AI. If a thing doesn't give you back time or peace, we don't build it.
• Your data stays yours. We build on your own accounts, with the safest setup I know, and we talk about what you should never hand over.
• No niche required. Artists, mothers, coaches, witches, women with four businesses and no title. If you refuse to pick one thing, you're exactly who this is for.
• You don't need to be technical. You need a laptop, the $20-a-month plan of whichever AI you already talk to, and a list of things you hate doing.
• Honest ceiling. Some things it can't do. I still call my own bank.
• I'm not your coach. I'm your nerdy friend with a chair pulled up next to yours.

No more than 12.

I'm picky on purpose. The women in the room are half of what you're paying for. If I don't think it's the right fit, I'll refund you in full and tell you why. That's the whole application.

Winter season. Exact dates land soon. Grab a seat and you hear first; if the dates don't work for you, full refund, no weirdness.