Here Comes Bride, There Goes Kidney

Really and Not Really!

My youngest, McPaddie, is getting married! Her fiancé is an awesome man; we are all beyond excited. That means we are having a wedding! YIKES.

Fortunately, the big event is a year away. Haven’t broached subject of budget with her dad. While he is totally on board, he has no clue what weddings cost. I’m thinking he’s thinking $7. Am totally Scarlett O’Hara about having that conversation with him. Must contact EMS unit to have on hand when I grow a pair and spit it out. “Tomorrow is another day”.

Meanwhile, this mission requires MAJOR CREATIVITY. A few of the thoughts that have crossed my mind at 3:00 am every morning:

  • Sell a kidney (no, think that’s against the law)
  • Numerous bikini car washes (force future bridesmaids into slave labor)
  • Bake sales (one cookie = $1000)
  • Stand on busy street corner with sign (nope; too hot and I work every day)
  • Call BRAVO and ask Andy Cohen to make a reality series for us (so not happening)
  • Start a new trend: the drive-by wedding (just kidding)

Obviously, I need your help! If you have any ideas – puh-leeze throw them out here. Before throwing, please note: they won’t elope, we will do our best and honor what the bride wants on budget, we know it’s about the ceremony, not the flash.

*We are Southern. That means the weddings in these parts = church ceremony and reception. Reception includes buffet, mucho alcohol, and a great band so you dance your ass off. Just so you know. Oh, and photography. Just blew left side of brain.

You have your assignment. Am off to search for loose change.

Later.

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My Not-So-Stange Addiction

Pinterest.

Yep, I’m addicted.

I resisted for as long as I could. I was turned off by having to “request an invitation” to participate. Got over my snarky self, pressed the request button. Got my “invitation” shortly thereafter and my addiction was instantaneous.

For me, Pinterest is like this amazingly magical treasure chest. And I can’t control my addiction because there are so many beautiful images, great tips, hilarious words … well, something for everyone. Creativity and beyond …..

Oh my, I must go back there right this minute. Might miss exactly what I’m looking for. Even though I have no idea what I’m looking for which is par for my course.

You can follow me there – Izzie Darling, duh. Check my boards. You might find something you are looking for. Or not.

Happiness is a choice.

Later.

Free Falling

Free falling. There are those times when you find yourself in a free fall. Gravity, disguised as circumstances, exhaustion, or emotions, just knocks your feet right out from under you. And you are free falling.

It’s not so much about the fall, itself, but that you stop it. This is NOT the time to go with the flow.

Catastrophizing, whining, blaming … these are not options but negative motivators (oxymoron?) that build nasty momentum. So, how do you stop the fall?

First, reach out. Grab some strong arms to hug you, seek loving ears to listen.

My very wise friend, Renee, would say, “Shift“. Look at what “pushed” you, shift your perceptions, and find the lesson. Emotions are fickle, not to be trusted”. Ms. Shay would say, “It’s all about will – your will, your choice – and you have abundant, positive choices.”

And then, the rest is up to me … or you. It always is. When I am in a free fall, it is often precipitated by control. Me trying to control anything, everything. And when anything, everything feels like I am herding cats, “tilting at windmills”, and bouncing off the same brick wall repeatedly, I know to stop. Just stop and listen.

Then, and only then, I hear Renee and Ms. Shay. And the Big Voice saying, “You are NOT on a crazy train that’s going off the rails. You didn’t buy that ticket. Simmer down.” And I’m no longer falling, but standing up, sorta straight. And remembering verses that are warm and fuzzy at the very least – to me:

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls. Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find relief and ease and refreshment and blessed quiet for your souls. For My yoke is useful – not harsh, hard, sharp, or pressing, but comfortable, gracious, and pleasant, and My burden is light and easily borne.” (Matthew 11:28-30, Amplified Bible)

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? (Mary Oliver)

Then I know that comfort, so momentarily elusive, will come.

And I begin again.

——————————-

*Big Voice would not be Ozzy Osbourne. But I do like “Crazy Train

Help Wanted: Need Advice AGAIN

Dear Smarter People Than Me (that would be a majority of the population on Wednesdays and Fridays):

I have a very small, very new candle company. The product rocks. The locals love. I do not sell to stores nor will I. Because the quality must be perfect for me to sell, the cost is higher than that of say, Glade.

I am prohibited from selling them on Etsy. While I select and purchase my fragrance oils, design and create all labels and marketing materials, I have a candlemaker. Which knocks me out of the homemade arena.

  I’ve bought good stuff on eBay. But the candle section leaves me stone cold. I’m not a “Grandma’s Teacup filled with wax” kind of show. So now I am wondering if I just do my own website. If that is the case, where, what, and how much?

Thank you, in advance, for your consideration and input.

Later,

izziedarling

*just kidding about the smarter days – throw all seven in there*

It’s Monday: Weekend Insanity Report & Advice Request

I just don’t know what to think. So I’ll just toss it all out there, as usual.

She’s A Bad Mama Jama

In my opinion. This morning, on Good Morning America, there was a story about little boys entering beauty pageants. Apparently, the toddler tiara set is now composed of 10% boy entrants. OK. But I was appalled when one of the boy pageant mothers said, “I can turn my little boys into girls. These are the girls I never had.” This is, to me, a prime example of why some women should never give birth.

Evening of Insanity

That would be last Saturday night. Am not being critical as I was right in the middle of the madness. Actually caused some of it. In my last post, I introduced the electronic yodeling pickle. I call him “Canute” as he is manufactured in Canada. I keep him by the phone; when telemarketers call, they are treated to a concert. I packed Canute along with some adult beverages before we headed out to a gathering Saturday night. Upon our arrival, I introduced the innocent but very talented pickle to other guests. Poor Canute. Before he even got one yodel out, his image was desecrated. “He looks like a green, bumpy d***0 <very personal people pleaser>. And given a new handle, The YoDo. Ridiculous. Improper. Obviously engaged in highly intellectual pursuits, Zorba and ParTay decided to use Canute for prank phone calls. Yes, these can still be done and yes, we stopped maturing at 13. I haven’t laughed that hard in about two weeks. Can’t repeat any more of conversations about Canute but you can be sure that the phrase, “in a pickle” was tossed about in a most unsavory fashion.

At the same event, The Prince asked me why I had so many “blog” comrades who are Brits, Aussies, and South Africans. Well, duh. First and foremost, they are brilliant. And write well. And are hilarious. Then I became thoughtful and realized yet another connection. I have Brit blood. I am obsessed with that medieval bad boy, Henry VIII. My ancestors include Lady Jane Grey, whose nine-day reign as Queen of England ended in yet another headless situation. Which could explain personal insanity, flightiness, and inability to focus on anything (including this topic) for more than two seconds. As well as unwanted comments about my behavior as that of “a chicken with its head cut off”. It is Queen Izzie, y’all. Which has nothing to do with original question.

Latest Search Engine Terms

The terms used to find me are just getting weirder.

  • Car fell off parking garage (obviously an insurance inquiry)
  • Skirt came off my head (not in the habit of wearing my skirt on my head but could happen under the right circumstances….)
  • Plastic panties (mind out of gutter, people)
  • Parking garage facial (hmmmm…no, too bizarre to consider)
  • Chief wiggle eye gluer (can’t fix this … try o-p-h-t-h-a-l-m-o-l-o-g-i-s-t)
  • My boss tucked my blouse in for me (tmi, ever heard of “sexual harassment suits”? Wear one.)

 Enough mischief for a Monday.  Which brings up another question. (Promise to take ADHD meds immediately after this). Ok, new business is a direct result of a blog friends’ suggestion. So, I need some more advice. Regarding marketing. For those late to party, I am selling candles. Great candles.  Am just rolling this out, am still in infancy stage, so my marketing plans has been to contact a few people a week. This has resulted in a nice start on my candle makers retirement fund. The introduction must be handled this way, so she and I can see just how much we can do. Now it is holiday season, people spend more money. Good time to bring out new but not accurate for ongoing sales prediction. My product is under market price. That’s my story and I’m bewildered where/what goes next. Any advice most appreciated.

Later. and merci…

If It’s Wednesday, It Must Be Random

I think it’s Wednesday. If it isn’t, don’t tell me. Have been burning the candle at both ends trying to get my new “enterprise” off the ground. Not complaining a minute but … have not had an original thought since … some other day. Have had much interaction with the population outside my front door. Which forces me to the keyboard. I am not smoking crack, snorting rowdy powder, or anything else illegal. Am drinking some serious java. What follows are my thoughts, “rules”, and true stuff that I know today. Wednesday. I think.

Just So You Know

  • If I am your mother, I’m not your friend. If I’m your friend, I’m not your mother. My real name means “truth”; if you ask me for my opinion about your “whatever”, I will tell you the truth as I see it. If you want happily ever after, please see Hans Christian Anderson. If you need to know about your future, please see Dionne Warwick. If you want a candle, please see me.

 

  • How about those “Very Busy People”?  You know, the ones who tell you over and over and over how Very Busy they are? And if you would like an audience with one, it could be in two months for 14 minutes when the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars. GET OVER YOURSELF! Everyone is busy. What’s that? You want to see me? Oh, so not going to happen because … I’m a VERY BUSY PERSON.

 

 

  • My Cooking Partner, like my dad, believes in rules. For everyone else. They aren’t complete anarchists, they do the stop sign thing and pay taxes. Everything else is debatable. This attitude would be a BIG burr under my saddle. CP is determined to have me incarcerated by my homeowners association. He and my dog, Cooper, are in love. He is great about taking Cooper for a walk. But he refuses to use a leash nor will he scoop le poop. The city has a law about that: all dogs leashed, all poop scooped. But no. He took Coop for a walk the other night and lo and behold, he got the serious stink eye from a neighbor who has nothing to do but issue stink eyes to rule breakers. So now I am spreading joy and glee all about, in hopes I will not be invited to sell my house. Meh!! 
  •  I thought we, as a country, were in a financial pickle. Someone forgot to tell the credit card companies. My daughters receive about three “sign up nows” from credit monsters each week. Dear Slimeball Credit Card Issuers: Pick on people who have a big income and can pay your stupid rates. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES. If you were human. But as the Bank of America mess has shown us, you are computers. Nevermind.

 

  • Note to anyone wanting $ from me (excluding bills as I follow rules and pay them): this ATM is OUT of CASH until further notice. I don’t care if the plane ticket is only $1, the dress is perfection, the wheels fell off your car, you really need a cosmetic procedure and you are afraid to approach anyone in your own family for the dough, you really need a vacation. Call me stupid, but last time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a bank.

Rather than lay down any more laws around here, I’ll dash. There are candles to be sold, poop to be scooped, telemarketers to be tortured (I keep a whistle by the phone), and neighbors to be dazzled by the sight of Cooper on a leash. Oh yeah, and a calendar to be consulted so I know what day it is.

 

Later. Maybe.

Please Kick Me … Gently

I’m in a pickle. Call it mental paralysis. Not a pity party. A swift kick in the butt is not going to get me going again. I find myself back at square one, for the 2376th time and am feeling all the items listed in photo. Baby steps. Haven’t been able to take one. Want to. Have done everything I can think of to get this little engine started. But often times, better ideas come from others. That could be you.

What inspires you? What tiny or giant “thing” creates that “aha” moment? I live by the credo, “fall down 7 times, get up 8” yet I am having difficulty getting up. Any and all suggestions will be thoroughly considered and most appreciated. Two things you should know if/before responding: I am harder on myself than you could ever be (all things medical, therapeutic, etc. are under control) and I am interested in what works for you, what you do and how you do it.  If you so choose:

Bring it on!!!!!!