Small Business Scores

Black Friday.  Small Business Saturday.  Still Shopping Sunday.  Cyber Monday.  Take It Back Tuesday. 

Have you guys started shopping yet?!  I don’t know what you’re shopping for but you should be shopping.  You will never get 60% off of that thing-a-ma-bob again!   You’re gonna miss out on this year’s greatest watchamacallit if you don’t get it now!  Do you want to revisit the Furby disaster of 1998?  I didn’t think so!

Despite the multitude of receipts in my purse, I’m actually not a huge fan of shopping so I don’t get too swept away in the shopping madness that descends upon this country right after Thanksgiving.  That’s not saying that I haven’t had some cool Black Friday adventures but these days I’m content to go to bed Thanksgiving night instead of going out to get a jump start on Black Friday shopping. 

But I have to say, I like this Small Business Saturday event.  And yes, I know that it was created by a big, gigantic, financial corporation.  But hey, everyone needs a reminder every once in a while.

I like small businesses and I give props to the people who take that risk to open up their own shops.  I’ve always wanted to open up my own little store – Knick-Knack Paddy Whack where I would sell knick-knacks.  Or Crafty Gals where I could sell the crafts that my friends and I make.  Maybe an independent book store called Book Mark It.  Or my personal favorite – an old-fashioned ice cream parlor called What’s the Scoop? – the waitresses and soda jerks would have to ask “What’s the scoop?” when they took orders!

Actually, maybe I only like coming up for names for small businesses. 

Whatever…I’m happy to support local small businesses and I’m excited about my purchases this weekend!  (And they were all for me...I haven't started Christmas shopping yet!) 

My purchases - a scarf/shrug/wrap; an
antique window; and pina colada rum jam

Reflections of the Way Life Used to Be

“And now the journey is over, too short, alas too short.  It was filled with adventure and wisdom, laughter and love, gallantry and grace.” 
                                                                                Maurice Tempelsman
                                                                                (My Senior Quote)

Even though I never lettered - much
less played - in a sport, I had a
varsity jacket

Last night Friday night was my 15 year high school reunion.  I didn’t go.  Mainly because it was in the city and I would’ve had to take a train and there isn’t much that I hate more than taking the train into the city.  Oh, and I really didn’t want to go.  Most likely, there would’ve been mingling (at which I am so stellar).  Then after the rousing rendition of “Reunited [and it feels so good]” and the initial pleasantries, I probably would’ve sat in the corner awkwardly examining the train schedule to figure out the next train back to suburbia.     

It’s not that I don’t look back on high school with fondness.  I do.  Well, not “my high school was exactly like Degrassi and I’d go back in a second” fondness but more of “it was fun to have a locker” kinda fondness.  High school wasn’t the best time of my life but it wasn’t the worst time of my life either (for the record – that was roughly 2001 to 2003).  I wasn’t a popular girl, a bad girl, or even a mean girl.  I wasn’t a freak and I wasn’t a geek.  I wasn’t even a misfit or an outsider…although in high school don’t we all feel like misfits and outsiders?

Does anyone know what
an El Delator actually is?

I was solidly middle of the road in high school.  I wasn’ t super smart but I wasn’t dumb even though I never quite got the hang of algebra.  While I got along with most of my classmates, I had a small group of friends that I hung out with – in the cafeteria, during free periods, and under the Friday night football lights.  I endured bullying although I never considered it that; choosing instead to walk down different hallways so I could avoid the upperclassmen offenders.  I was in the girl’s locker room after gym when I found out that Kurt Cobain died.  I never cheated, got a detention, or had to visit the school disciplinarian.  I didn’t cut on Senior Cut Day.  I was sitting in math class (Pre-Calc) when O. J. Simpson was acquitted because the glove did not fit.  I hated every school picture ever taken of me.   I was in the audience when Hillary Clinton came to speak at my school.  I made the honor roll for most of my academic career and received the History Department’s Excellence Award in senior year.  I wasn’t on any sport teams and the only extracurricular club that I was involved in was Students for Environmental Action (SEA) and that was only as a favor to a friend.  I went to all the Homecoming dances but skipped the Prom.   I never had perfect attendance.   
 
All in all, I was a typical high school student. 

I think it took me almost 15 years to realize that.    

Cheers to the Class of 1997.  Maybe I’ll make it to our 20 year reunion.

But only if it’s in the suburbs. 

Hat's Off!

Last night was Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving, the annual gathering that my friends and I have before actual Thanksgiving.  I chose to pass the hosting torch to someone else this year so I was off the hook for hostess duties, oh, and for cooking the turkey duty too!  This year’s hostess, however, allowed me to indulge my “force your friends to take home a kitschy holiday keepsake” tradition.  I’ve made name place cards for the past two years and now they’ve become hot collector’s items! 

I found this year’s inspiration from that cutting edge company Fiskars via Pinterest of course!

First you start off with a black paper cup that you can get at any party store, some black cardstock, some white cardstock, and pretty yellow scrapbook paper.

Cut a large circle from the black cardstock (luckily, I had a coaster that was just the right size for my template!)  Then, paint the rim and the bottom of the cup black.

 

Dip the rim of the cup in some glue, turn it over and place it in the center of the black circle.  Make sure the seam of the cup is facing the back.   

If you want a truly authentic pilgrim hat - or want to commemorate the new movie Lincoln - STOP NOW.  DO NOT GO FURTHER.  If you choose to go further, please be aware, that one of your friends will most likely look up “pilgrim hat” on Wikipedia to inform you that pilgrim hats were really just black hats with no embellishments.  We’ve all been living a lie folks.  Next they’re gonna tell me that Columbus didn’t really discover America. 

The Pilgrims might’ve liked to keep their hats simple but I liked the jazzy sash and buckle that we've all seen on every Pilgrim image since the first grade so...

Cut a strip of white cardstock and glue it around the cup.  I ended up just cutting a small strip for the front of the hat.  Then cut a square of the yellow scrapbook paper and place it in the middle of the white strip so it looks like a buckle.  (I actually assembled the sash and buckle first before I glued the whole piece to the cup.)

Write the guest’s name on the brim of the hat in a shiny gold marker that you may have to borrow from a friend.  I guarantee you will have a friend who will have a gold marker.  Just ask.  But don't ask me because I actually don't have a gold marker.      

Viola!  An awesome place card to adorn your Thanksgiving table!  Not to mention, a keepsake for the ages! 

These were so easy to make!  I ended up joining forces with one of my friends and we banged out 15 in no time!  

It’s already time to start thinking about the name place card for Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving 2013! 

 

Environmentalism for Dummies

Thursday was America Recycles Day.  I know ‘cause I have a button that tells me so!

You wish you were this cool!

I’m not a card-carrying tree-hugging member of Greenpeace or anything and I probably don’t do my share to protect the environment – I never planted the the tree seedling that I got on Earth Day 1991, I don’t carpool unless it’s snowing or icy out, and I’ve used copious amounts of spray paint over the past few weeks – but I try to do a little bit to help protect the Earth until December 21, 2012 for future generations. 

Over the last few years or so, my workplace has really gotten into the whole green thing.  We actually won an award, I think, for using special light bulbs or something.  I probably should’ve read that article in the newsletter more carefully.  Although I was a bit disappointed when I found out that the Federal Paperwork Reduction Act didn’t have anything to do with reducing paper, my particular agency advocates double-sided printing and then we encourage everyone to recycle it when they’re done!  If that's not helping the environment, I don't know what is!

Recently, our efforts towards a greener America have taken a trashy turn.  Earlier this month, they installed three large trash cans in our cafeteria.  Hanging above each can are what can only be described as trash art – signs labeled “Compost,” “Recycle” and “Trash” with examples of each type of refuse that should be placed in the appropriate container.  Now, I’ve seen this before, most notably in the greenest of cities, the Emerald City – that’s Seattle for those of you who don’t keep up with city nicknames (oh! New trivia contest idea!!)  Anyway, since Seattle can do no wrong in my eyes, I was super impressed when I saw it.  Seattleites are so cool. 

But now every day after lunch, I feel like I’m faced with a multiple choice test and if I fail, Earth goes straight to hell in a trash can!  And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way – it’s fun watching my colleagues confidently approach the trash cans and then falter as they are faced with The Decision – which can do I throw my trash in?!

I’m fine with the recycling can – I expertly toss my Coke cans like I’ve been doing since before mixed recycling streams became cool.  But then I have to consider the rest of my lunch scraps.  The cardboard sleeve that my Healthy Choice Steamer Bowl comes in goes in the recycling bin.  Check.  But what about the plastic bowl and strainer thingie that are probably filled with dangerous amounts of BPA but which I ignore because the chicken margherita is just so good?  I think it’s a number 27 plastic.  Is that recyclable?!  If it's not a recyclable plastic will the recycling police take me away?  To the recycling plant, no less?!  I've heard about the recycling plant - they have corrugated cardboard there!  The horrors! 

What should I do with the offensive, disgusting mushrooms that I push to the side on the days that I eat chicken marsala instead of chicken margherita?  Do I scrape them into the compost container?  They came from the earth so they should probably return to the earth, right?  Then do I go back to the recycling can to throw away my bowl?  But by then, another one of my colleagues is trying to throw away his or her lunch and it’s rude to cut in front of them so I have to wait until they make their trash decisions.

According to the examples stuck on the signs, candy wrappers go into the trash can.  Okay, that’s perfect because I always have a 3 Musketeers wrapper to toss.  But what about that last bite that I never eat because event though we're Facebook friends, dear 3 Musketeers, sometimes too much nougat is just too much nougat and I can’t finish it eating you...which, by the way, I would argue means I'm really only eating 2 of the 3 Musketeers.  Does that last musketeer go into the compost can?  Should I just stick it in my mouth and chew so I don’t have to deal with this?  I just don’t know! 

There’s just so many choices!  So many decisions!  So much trash! 

No wonder I’m so stressed out afterwards. 

I think I’ll just go out for lunch from now on. 

---

On a serious note – recycle!  It’s the right thing to do!

Come On Baby, Light My Lamp

When I moved into my apartment, my aunt and uncle gave me a pair of lamps that they were no longer using.  The base is filled with shells so they’re perfect for anyone with a beach décor or for anyone who loves seashells. 

My apartment didn’t have a theme – unless you consider futon chic a theme – so I didn’t really care what the lamps looked like.  As long as I had adequate light so I could study late into the night, I was happy.  I’m just kidding.  I never studied late into the night.  That’s library school for ya.  But I did enjoy the light.

The lamps came with me to my new house where my intended decorating scheme was a beachy, coastal, Riding Giants kinda look.  I didn’t really achieve that vision but that’s another story.  Anyway, the seashell lamps were relegated to my basement utility room waiting for a trip to the Goodwill donation station because I’m giver like that. 

Now I’m in the process of fixing up my basement den aka GIRL CAVE (what?  you just thought they were for men?!) and I got an idea – redo the lamps for my den! 

So, here’s the pair – the left is the original and the right is its twin after a facelift!

Hey you!  Yes, you!  Don't you dare look under
that lamp shade!  Have a little respect for the lamp!

Now I just need to find a new lampshade!

What's Shakin' Bacon?

I’m kinda obsessed with rhyming phrases right now like – what’s the story, morning glory?  What’s the tale, nightingale?  Scat dang cat!  Chin up, buttercup.  Mostly, it’s the just the cats enjoying my witty wordplay but they don’t show much appreciation for it.  Damn cats. 

Anyway, I originally intended Yellow Fever to have “Chin Up, Buttercup,” in white letters against the yellow paint but it really didn’t pop and too much yellow paint ran into the letters to make it look anything remotely pretty-like.  So, that's when I painted over the whole thing. 

I adjusted course and switched things up a little.  And since it’s going to be hanging in my bathroom now, I changed the rhyme!

Yeah, it's not a Picasso but it's proof that I'm trying!

See, this just proves that mistakes are the foundation for something better.  Or for bathroom art.

Paint it Again, Sam

So, Cal Ripken I am not.  I didn't post yesterday.  My mom was right – I’m not good at perseverance.  In my defense, I wasn’t just sitting around doing chocolate milk shots…I was crafting creating art until “Shark Tank” started late into the night. 

I was super excited about this art project.  You stick some letters on to a canvas, spelling out a witty, clever, meaningful saying - or something that rhymes, paint over it, then peel off the letters to get a one of a kind, unique piece of art.  It looks great on Pinterest.  But then there’s realiy:

This is where the photograph that
I failed to take before I painted
over the whole thing should be

Basically, It didn’t look quite like I had envisioned.  By this afternoon, it was irritating me. 

So now this is reality:

Maybe I'll slap some stripes on
this puppy and call it done

 

I’m titling it “Yellow Fever.”