NBM

What's NBM? Its a trade show for anyone in the sign or t-shirt decoration industry. It was awesome! I learned so much about process and how to create things. Amazing.

I even learned that they have smaller commercial grade machines for small businesses like me. I heard the sales pitches and then I got to hear their competition criticize the product that I just thought was the answer to all my prayers. So, again amazing.

I see that I'm more of a sell some first then invest in a small machine. That's okay by me now that I see it will be under $500. Hell as little as $350. Still I have no money but I see how I can get some and then build on it. Anyway, this helped me see my ideas as actually do-able without moving Heaven and Earth.

I was wearing my uber-long and heavy T-shirt dress and I got so many compliments. I would love to copy it but I'm finally gonna face the music and say that its too heavy, too long, and the chest and waist are problematic. Right where you want it to flow freely they have it gathered. terrible. In fact, most of my clothes, for someone with my chest measurements; are all too damn small or cut in the wrong places. Places which get stretched out, weighed down, gap open, or burst at the seams. tisk tisk.

Little Things

There is so much to read and digest with starting a new business. Basically, you can buy or at least get a demo of thousands of e-commerce tools. Its overwhelming. (sigh)

So my first lesson is: Good Enough.
As a perfectionist, I tend to obsess. I want to learn everything from A-Z. With that being the goal, things become unmanageable very quickly. Besides chasing something that you are never going to catch. Enter Good Enough. Have I made the best choice? No; but it fits my budget (which is zero) and its Good Enough.
Is this the best website name? Maybe, and its definately unregistered so its Good Enough.
You get the drift.

Next: Keep moving toward your objectives; that's the only way to accomplish your goals.
With perfectionism, there is a right way and a particular order things must be done, at least in my head. lol But in reality, balls of all sorts are comming at you so fast you can easily forget what game you are playing. (I was picturing me on a tennis court, with a ball machine on the other side, that spewed baseballs, basketballs, ping pong balls, and I don't even have a racquet.)

I was always an excellent dodge ball player. I'm sure I can get into the game.

Too Blessed To Be Stressed

After 3 long hours and driving and sweating, my used furniture is safely strewn in my apartment. (phew!)
I didn't get the 3 Jennifer Convertible leather chairs which were being sold for $60 total. :(
Turns out that even though you live on a tiny, quite, street in a two story building, if the buyer doesn't have your name, phone number, or address, then she can't alert you that she is outside with a moving van and your money. Oh, well.

As I hopped back into the van and got the next address ready (someone who had given me his phone number, first name, and correct address)  I said "Shoot, let's go. He just saved me $60." And we were off to collect the bed, table, chairs, desk; basically all this 20something's furniture: except for his red Ikea table and his music equipment, I bought it all and had the muscle to move it. Very reasonable price: $140.

Come back to my apartment building for the real work: bringing my "new furniture" up and taking the old to the curbside trash. All accomplished without me lifting anything. Yes I still sweated profusely, but mainly told my movers where to put things and counted and recounted the money I needed to pay them. Everything going so well, I even calculated an 18% gratuity to add to the fee.

What happened next? The ole switcheroo. Now the fee is magically $63 dollars more than what we agreed upon just 2 hours ago. This coming from a disembodied voice on a cell phone: "the boss".

Did I argue? Yes.  Did I just say screw you and lock the door? No. I just decided that this was an expensive lesson. I gave them the difference plus a $20 for each man. Why? Because I couldn't have done it by myself. I also didn't have the self confidence to ask my friends or neighbors for help.

In the end, as I was taking a little walk in the cool night air, I decided to let it go. I have to leave Craigslist and these bastards to God. I am grateful for the help and will never higher these guys again. All in all, I'm too Blessed to Be Stressed.

Indeed

(Oh look more fake jobs that I'm unqualified for and have seen countless time on Indeed)

juris jobs in Los Angeles, CA

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Sr. Corporate Counsel Farmers - Los Angeles, CA Required job duties are essentially sedentary; however, the incumbent must be able to speak, hear normal conversation and read normal newsprint; have ability to... farmers - 8:39 AM Vice President, Business Affairs NBC Universal - Universal City, CA Meaningful knowledge of the television industry. Strong and effective negotiating skills and excellent drafting skills.... NBC Universal - 12:58 AM

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Details to follow

Started my business this week! I'm really excited about my idea. Even managed to have a discussion with another designer. She's in Australia. I was a little disappointed that she is not 'beating down my door' but, (sigh) I can't expect that from her.  Or anyone else.

She sounds like a lovely person. She took the time to have a chat with me via skype. And she listened patiently. She even went as far to say she liked the concept; but that's where she stopped.

What did I want her to do? I wanted her to agree to be my virtual supplier and blogging partner. lol
That's not too much to ask from a chat session and one hour of back and forth?

Anyway, I give myself full marks for actually asking to speak with her and then actually doing it. So many times with projects, I won't even get this far. So I'm proud of myself. And talking with her, or after speaking with her; I got a fresh idea. Its an improvement to my planned fashion line. (More later) Now I just have to spread the word to my models. More importantly, figure out how much professional pictures of my dresses and models will cost. Can't have a website without pictures!

Vidal Sassoon: The Movie Summary

Vidal Sassoon: The Movie Summary

Blogging is hard to do

Why is blogging so difficult? You'd think the easiest thing in the world would be to just zoom over to your piece of the Internet and start typing. I mean, who doesn't like talking about themselves? Me apparently.

I've decided to start selling things because I need the money. Yup its that milestone in my personal recession. But I'm not selling all of my personal possessions (or any of them for that matter). I'm selling goods. Yes, I'm forming a business and, of course, blog about all my steps.

I'm entering the fashion industry. \o/ (that's dancing btw saw it on skype)
Yup the little girl who always wore jeans and pants that were 4-6 inches too short. (Nobody told me or my Mom that they have longer pant lengths for girls.) And t-shirts which were too tight (sigh) is starting a fashion business.

I'm actually a good mixture of excited and desperate. I need to start my own business.  Necessity is the mother of invention right? The reasons are two fold.

1. Employment for my favorite unemployed person: Me.
2. Money to pay for such little things as shelter, food, and clothing. 

 That's more than enough reasons right? The above declaration just begs the question: what type of clothing?
Where am I going to get the clothing from? How much money will it cost just to start-up? Do I have that money? Where am I going to sell the clothing?

I also want to add a third reason to the list above. I want to do something to make the world a better place. Idealist, huh?

Well apparently idealism also plays a big role in my love life according to Eharmony and various Glamour and Cosmopolitan 'dating personality' quizzes. So, yes, very idealist. I've wanted a job for about 5 years now. And I've always wanted to change the world; make it a better place. Why not do both?

Spoiler alert: I have a good idea. Warning: This idea is really inspirational and still a rough concept. However, I am asking the Universe and anyone who reads this to help me shape this idea into a reality. Writing things down; helps me think. Thought can lead to action. As Vidal Sassoon said, "Make History".




 
 

Where's My Jet Pack?

I'm sitting down; submerged in free wifi; watching people order greasy food...the usual.
I'm uncomfortable BTW. I'm hunched on the edge of a "sofa" next to the only power outlet I see in the place. The "tables" are not table height. So, I alternate from crouching position to panni lap blogging.

Why isn't there a super-cool hangout public space where we may gather to blog, eat, and just Be?
You know, cool music, coffee, and conversation. Its not Starbucks or Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. All of these businesses which now offer free wifi are appreciated. I see many a 20 something sitting in their car and playing with their smart phones in the parking lot. But what about us poor 30something with no car?

Word Press

Here I am sitting in the Beverly Connection, with a laptop so hot it could melt cheese. Watching all the pretty girls and boys go by.

I've decided to move my blog to word press. Why? B/c if I buy a Kindle, I will be able to blog with it. And, a book told me to do so. I like books what can I say? But since I have to move it and get a domain name and all this other stuff; sit tight. This may take a while.

Just a Sign of the Times

How is life with bangs? Actually, its pretty awesome. I got my new look because I was so excited about a new job. This work was supposed to start Monday and last for a month or two. So I got my hair done, my eyebrows waxed, and my clothes pressed. Got there bright and early for... the project cancellation.

Yup. It happened again. Another lawsuit cancelled or settled.  They even had a case. And now... well now I'm back where I started from. But with a fantastic new do!

What is all this leading up to?

Boom

Strike a Pose

Thursday

Today is another fabulous day in Los Angeles, CA! I want to tell everyone that I had a wonderful birthday on July 3rd and spent a wonderful 4th with friends. This birthday was the best yet: my friends took me sailing; we ate out; I tasted the best flan I have ever had; I got a cupcake from Crumbs; the cupcake man flirted with me; and the good times just keep piling up from there. Plus I have decided to start blogging again.
Who could ask for anything more?

I'm healthy. I'm living in my own apartment. I'm excited about the future.

I may never marry.

This one is filed under men and relationships. If I am way too hard on myself, then you know I'm really hard on other people. Lets just say I'm judgmental. I mean, honestly, I've made young men cry over not using their knives and forks. Therapy has given me the insight that those people cried not because they were ashamed, but because I'm harsh.  I should be more accepting. I am not more accepting because I'm even harsher with myself.

The prescription: Lighten up!

This week and last week has been spent mostly with a new friend. He used to live in my apartment building and he is from the South. In fact, I am storing some of his (no adjective here) possessions while he finds a new place. I'm so nice huh?

Not really; because I notice I want to snap his head off in our discussions. And it really is the tiniest things that set me off.  I made him dinner. (no comment) And I said to him "Dinner. Dinner is ready." He didn't acknowledge me. Of course, I lost it. I then took a step back made eye contact and said "I said dinner is ready. This food ain't gonna dish up itself and bring itself to you."

Yeah. Can you say flashback. I loved cooking for my family but I was a kid; and sometimes didn't want to cook. What would make me furious is if I cooked; called my family to dinner; and they did not come. A tiny bit like I have described above.

I am way too hard on myself

So what's new with you?
I broke up with my therapist. Cry at night from sadness about my grandparents passing. My meds have been upped. And I'm waaay too hard on myself.

Lately, I have been seeing just how other people make mistakes, drive their romantic partners crazy, and still wind up with higher self esteem and a happier existence. And it has finally hit me like a brick: I am too hard on myself. My standard is not perfection but it may as well be. I need to do some work and try to get on with my life.

I really don't have anything more to say than that. This entry shows I'm restarting my blog. Why? Why not!

All Good Things Must Come to An End

Today, a lovely woman with expensive highlights and irritated eyes that come from marijuana smoke, came to the near deserted floor on which I was doing my legal review work. "Gather round everyone, I have some news. Your done." She carefully explained that the judge had ordered other side had agreed to take discovery without redaction. They will be held to a 'Do Not Contact' Order.

Thus ended almost three months of steady, fair wage labor that I was qualified to do with no future employment or job prospects in sight. A double whammy, I was just starting to feel good about myself: competent, qualified, capable.  Oh well....

I do feel lucky and blessed. Getting this contract work in Oct. last year was the answer to my tear-filled pleas to God. I called out in my despair and instead of sinking, I was lifted up and stood on the waves and suddenly all was calm. In fact 2010 was the year that, when I look back, I know God was walking with me.

A Brief Bit of Background
A personal miracle happened in November 2010, I was offered and accepted employment. Angels, took hold of my life and pulled it into a small place of shelter. Shelter from the category 5 economic hurricane employed politicians and economists named Recession. Sadly, it was only a resting place. Somewhere to stand and wait out the torrential downpour: an open door to a safe house in the middle of a hurricane.  But, you can't live in a shelter. And in September 2011, I had to leave.

With no place to go and a severance check which would substantiate my demand for at least $40,000 in salary, I filed for everything. I was not going to repeat 2009, a year that introduced me to the paperwork amusement park called public assistance.

Have you ever been to Six Flags or Disneyland? (Heaven forbid) Then you  know what it is like to apply for public assistance. As you may recall, you stood around waiting and waiting and waiting en orderly mass, for the same thing: to be allowed a turn on the ride.  You tolerated and came prepared for the heat, but not the hunger, boredom, and muscle strain. This backache was endured with resolve b/c you had a ticket to ride. A ride that would last just slightly longer than it takes to make it to the bridge of your favorite song when you start to sing it from the top. Maybe you had even saved up for weeks to spend hours of your short life with your children, friends, or loved ones, not talking or laughing but staring ahead at all the other heads in front of you.

Well, the welfare office is exactly the same experience. Except the small children, teenagers, strange adults, and yourself are all waiting, not for pleasure and amusement, but for money to buy food and maybe pay for running water. Not housing or rent, that is section 8, a completely different department with a waiting list that stretches 2 maybe 3 years into the future. FYI, the first requirement for receiving housing assistance, as it placidly called, is that you have to be on welfare. But at least, you didn't have to pay to be there. Admittance was free because no one wants to be there.

Then, out of the clear blue sky one morning, that was just as beautiful as the morning I was fired, a voice mail and an email about possible work.

Which turned out to be real and not just some headhunter trying to justify their employment existence to their boss. A real contract work assignment. Work that you were uniquely qualified to do after spending 3 years and $89,000 obtaining a law degree. And were restricted to doing because you had no law license and could not afford to attain. Talk about a catch-22.