Monthly Archives of: April 2011

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My Crazy So Called Life…

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As I sit at my laptop with one hand in a nail polish remover to take off my Katy Perry OPI shatter polish, (which I totally adore) and the other on my mouse fishing on the internet for blank tee samples, I let my head drop on the keys.  I’m literally up to my neck in receipts for 2010 (taxes-the last of three businesses to do, and on extension, but I’m getting them done by the 15th anyway) and way over my head in decisions to be made.  What tee-shirt design should I use?  What Jessica Simpson pumps do I want to order for immediates for my boutique?  Did I order the right stainless steel refrigerator twenty minutes ago?  Why the hell did my brother give me a bucket stuffed with sixteen months of smoke-smelling receipts?  Why is my almost-nine-year-old riding around the kitchen table on his little sister’s pink indoor tricycle (is there such a thing as an indoor bike–that wasn’t my idea.) and eating his tenth tangelo for the day—leaving a trail of pulp behind him on my newly mopped floors.  (Yes, the cleaning fairies were here.)

OMG!  I definitely need some me time, and about ten hot yoga classes, a massage, an hour walk in the park, and my mom.  Mommmmmm???!!!

I can’t help but just sit here and shake my head as I write this.  The writing part brings me peace and lets me clear my head, but I know I should really be focused on paperwork.  There are definitely ups and downs to owning your own businesses, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I’ve never worked for anyone but myself since I was eleven except for my very short stint at the DQ in high school, where I thoroughly enjoy inventing new flavors of Blizzards, and when I was supervisor at the Mountainlair Catering feeding the football team.  I was on a mission then to get the chef to cook healthier food for our team, at the time they all seemed really over weight to me–the chef didn’t cut back on her butter or oil, which forced me into vegetarianism, then eventually forced me to just quit.

Yes, working for yourself is quite challenging to say the least.  There’s no one there to yell at you if you are late, no one there to pay your bills if you don’t, and no one there to make sure you’re marketing, advertising, and treating your customers with the utmost respect.  That is unless you get lucky enough to find an incredible manager (like I have, love you Brittany) to care as much as you do.  And those types of people are one-in-a-million.

But on a positive note, I do make my own hours, I do get to go on fun shopping trips, I do get to design, reinvent, entertain, and clothe my friends.  Soon I’ll have a gathering place for my peeps to watch their favorite sports events at and to come by and have a burger or smoked salmon wrap after their softball game.  But the next three weeks I’ve gotta put my head to the grindstone, it’s all mind games from here on out.  How many cooks do I hire?  How do I know if I’m wasting too much food?  How many hours will I work myself?  Once again, Mommmmmm??!!  (She helped me launch my boutique six years ago and she was quite great at it.)

I realized earlier this evening (and any of you Martha Stewart moms should just stop reading this now) that my multi-tasking had taken a turn for the worst.  My daughter was in the bubble bath and it was eight and she was hungry, so I took her chicken nuggets and edamame (at least they were organic) up so she could eat while she was in the tub.  Yes, that was a holy shit moment, but I was in a time crunch, and it was all I could do.  That’s just how some days go in my house, most days are a bit more calm.  But at this moment I can look back on one very productive today, and tomorrow I can breathe…

 

And my mom gets here on Sunday to help my brother and I with the launch of our neighborhood grille, thank God.

 

-S

 

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Playing Dress Up…

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A few days ago I needed to work at my boutique and thought I would take my three-year-old along with me.  I knew it was a gamble because the prior times she ended up rearranging all the clothing and shoe displays that were within her reach, along with extracting all the sea salt in the jewelry display case and sprinkling it all over the place–including me.

Although she still ended up wearing all the rings she could get her Crayola covered paws on and playing “check out” with the calculator, this time was very different.

By one o’clock we had been there for two hours and she was being great.  She entertained herself while I outfitted women in pieces they couldn’t live without.  Sloane made her way around the floor, checking out merchandise for herself.  After being quiet as a mouse for a little while, she walked over to me behind the counter and gave me a big red smile–she had found the lip gloss and had applied bright red Rockstar almost perfectly to her lips.  I laughed as she struck a pose then kissed her on the cheek.  I looked into her big blue eyes for a moment—that’s when the idea hit me to take her downstairs, (where I had recently set up a photo studio to shoot our models for our website), and get her in front of the camera.

She started out in her own outfit and twenty minutes later she was wearing a silver sequin tunic from my store (adult xs), which looked like a ball gown on her.  Then after that we moved on to an ugly Michael Simon cardigan from the saleroom.  I’m not even sure how that thing even ended up in my store, but it did, lol.  And just like any good fashionista, she kept changing her shoes every five minutes.  The entire time I was shooting her I just kept thinking, oh man, I’m gonna be in trouble when this little girl grows up…

We had a blast and it’s a day I will remember forever.  She was a true supermodel, giving me every look from sweet, to demure, to surprised, to even sexy.   She wasn’t a toddler anymore, she was a supermodel–my supermodel…..Her cat face….

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If Donald Trump Was President…

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Please tell me that my ears were playing tricks on me last night when I heard that Donald Trump is ramping it up to run in the next Presidential Election.  May as well throw in Oprah and Arnold Schwarzenegger and have a full-blown celebrity race to be the one riding in the Presidential motorcade.  We could even text in our votes, American Idol style.  Now wouldn’t that be easier than standing in line at the local high school to cast our votes on a “hanging chad.”  Or is that a dimpled chad?  Or a drunken chad?

I’m not sure America or even the Oval Office could handle Donald’s comb-over for long.  And I’m not so sure citizens should text in a win for a man who has never had a drop of alcohol.  Please tell me he at least pops a Xanax every now and then to handle all that real estate related stress.

There is an upside to Donnie running and winning.  It would make for a few more good years on The Daily Show with John Stewart, and another good run for SNL.  But Donald better pull those radio ads featuring his company that anyone can be a part of, I think that’s raining on his image.

Another huge upside could be the possibility of the Miss USA contestants making appearances at his rally’s in teenie-weenie bikini’s.  I’m sure that’s bound to get The Donald some votes.

Maybe Oprah would be a better candidate.  I have a feeling she could out vote Donald any day just from her viewership alone.  For some reason we just can’t get enough of Oprah….or Harpo.  Or OWN-the Oprah Winfrey Network.  Personally, I think Oprah taking a place in the Oval Office wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing for America.  We need her as is, with more camera time, continuing to make a positive effect on America.  At least that’s my vote…..

Can’t wait to see who ends up in the primaries—it could be one whale of a ride.  After all this betting on the NCAA tourney’s, I’m wondering if there are bookies out there that take bets on elections.  I’m going to have to look into that.

-S