Look Ma! An Award!

"Entrepreneur Chick, source of the brassy, witty, no-holds-barred blog of the same name." Is what Postman said about me.

And then he bestowed this award,

of which, I am truly touched and honored; but he didn't say anything about me giving him 20 bucks, so I figure it's legit.

Now Postman asks this:

 I must- tell you seven things you do not know about me.

1. I could drive my father's red tractor, just like the one on Green Acres, before I ever learned how to drive a car, but not before I rammed it into a big, hulking oak tree and it just kept climbing that massive base- up, up and up, and yet- I didn't die, as it would have easily flipped over; because I, in an utter panic, killed the motor just in time. (Yeah, don't do that.)

2. Was very shy. My second grade teacher told my mother: "I know she can talk only because I've heard her on the playground."

3. Accidentally killed my Easter goldfish by "petting" it with a pencil. (Yeah, don't do that either.)

4. Believed in Santa Claus until I was in the sixth grade. It began to be so embarrassing for my mother that she sat me down in the kitchen and said, "There's something I really need to tell you..." Well what else have you lied to me about?! Am I even your real daughter? How could you?

5. Am a little afraid of the dark. There's a blind spot in our home, that when I turn off the final lights at night, spooks me. So I run like a little kid all the way to bed and jump the last 3 or 4 feet until I'm safely inside my covers.

6. Am also terribly afraid my Yorkie, Eliot, might die before I do and then I will die. We have taken codependency to a whole new level.

7. Finally figured out how to make millions of dollars but am no more happy than when I left What's-His-Name (ooooh, FREEDOM) and had a one bedroom apartment with plastic lawn furniture, a blow up mattress, a borrowed pot to cook, a borrowed card table to eat, but the deluxe version of Talking Electronic Battleship, Clue, and Yahtzee. EFF Yah! Now that's living! And screw you because you said I couldn't "make it without you" and all that crap. Who's ya Momma now, beeee-otch?

Now for the seven awesome people I'd like to bestow this award:

1. Chloe: Fortune Cookies and Men.  Transparent, truthful, charming and always humorous.  If you'd like to think of her this way: the exact Chinese version of yours truly, that's fine by me! (Love ya, girl.) I believe she has a unique voice that will be heard on much bigger playing fields in the future.

2. Susan- The Pollinatrix: (But I can't because Postman already beat me to it.) Polly saves me from being the shallow, superficial, blond doofus butt that's become, at times, oh so comfortable.

2. Erin O'brien who's "manual for human beings" is a blow your socks off, great read. I mean, the way this woman thinks is outrageous, gives one pause, and is so creative it's stupid. But she does have a leg up, seeing as how she's a professional writer. You can sign up for her newsletter on her blog so you will never miss a post, because you won't want that to happen.

3. 1950's Atomic Ranch House I am completely enthralled by this blog. I could spend hour after hour just looking at her pictures. They calm me and make me happy. I don't really know why, but they do. There you go.

4. Places With Character~ brought to you by the lovely and always interesting, DUTA in Israel, no less. I think it's so cool how blogging expands one's world. She writes about places and things I'd never think about! (Plus, she's Jewish and I think that's awesome.)

5. Ramblings of the Bearded One: A professional photographer in Scotland, Kim is highly creative, extremely good at what he does, and an engaging read. Besides, I apprectiated the way he took the time to look at one of my businesses and give me some valuable, honest feedback, which probably saved me several thousands of dollars of useless investment.

6. Becky: Dream, Believe, Achieve- What I like best about Becky is that I never know what she's going to write about next, and she always cracks me up. She is also a fellow business owner; which I enjoy.

7. Scandalous Housewife: Retro, saucy, imaginative and pure fun! She's a girl after my own little flamboyant Texas heart.

For those of you who I bestow this award- you must do the same.

List seven things we do not know about you.

Pass the award on to seven blogs you enjoy.

Thank the original sender.

Notify the seven blogs to whom you passed the award.

And Andy, (Postman) I adore reading you- as you've the same qualities I hold dear- honesty, transparency, and a mighty damn good vocabulary; as I've always said, SO Capote of you!  Thank you too, for all your sweet comments here on E.C.; they are always appreciated-  xxooxo!

A Thanksgiving Death in the Family

Okay, so I'm a little dramatic. But "Chuckie", (thanks a hell of a lot, little kids that came over to my house a few years ago and thusly named you and I stared at you for several minutes when I'm all alone, supposing you would move at any given moment and grab a butcher knife out of my kitchen) passed away when I was gone on my camping trip.

A moment of Thanksgiving Decoration Silence please:

"Oh my gosh. What happened to him?"

"He developed a bad case of ghetto pants, sagging way below his underwear- and Emerson peed on his feet."

We had no recourse but to take him off Scarecrow Support, return him to his original box and put him in the... trash.

But do try and remember Chuckie in his better, younger, and happier days~ he'd want you to.

His last request was that we will all find it in our hearts to have a heartfelt toast to his long (2002) Happy Harvest life

with nothing but the best;

Penn. Dutch Egg Nog,

lest he died completely in vain.

Chuckie who?

Sex it Up~ Happy Thanksgiving!

Soooo, my hair conditioner says, "Sex it Up" something-or-other. I thought well, good grief, it's hair conditioner. It's really not a condom. But it seems to sell. I mean, I bought it.

In the spirit of TGI products everywhere and The 1950's Atomic Ranch House, who's blog I just adore:

Happy Thanksgiving

to all of you sexy babies out there!

(Honestly, I hope you have a wonderful holiday.)

And I have some great news to tell you about when:

(1) The overload of turkey and pumpkin pie has worn off. And thank you in advance, Postman!

(2) I'm back from "glamping". You know glamping? It's like camping only with glamour added, therefore, "glamping."

Yes, yes, I will take pictures for you.

I even have these silly eyelash extensions now, which is going to be just fabulous when I wake up and have to seperate my long plumes with a damn toothpick! That's attractive.

And it's essential you bring along a Dust Buster and you must put several rugs down in your tent; as the objective is to not let any dirt, or any nature, actually touch you at any time.

Ooooh, the great outdooors!

LOVES IT.

The Garage Sale Meter

While she returned them but didn't actually say, "You can have these little bishes back", it was definitley implied.

After all, why would my ex mother in law cherish the tiny Pilgrims I lovingly painted for her after I left her adoring son? (Insert tongue in cheek here.)

But it's about the "lovingly painted" part I want to address.

Though it's apparent they've seen better days- no shoes, no nose- I had a great time making those suckers!

And guess what? I'm think I'm going to make some more stuff like this~ even though I know the odds of it ending up in the proverbial garage sale are quite high.

At our house, when we go to buy an item, we ask:

What are the odds of this ending up in a garage sale?

Let's get the meter out and check.

If it's quite likely, we don't buy the item.

If we do purchase the item anyway, I still see to it that it gets used.

Like these:

I tell Emerson, "Look. These sunglasses that everyone knows that all dogs need nowadays were $19.99. I know you're going to put these on and be happy!"

"Do I look happy?"

"I don't care. That's almost 20 bucks, hound."

And a Big Time Was Had by All

That's what we call it in Texas. A big time. I knew on a ferry headed to Martha's Vineyard when my fellow travelers asked, "Did you have a big time in Boston?" that they certainly were from Texas too.

Here's what the big time looked like from the beginning; this is the staff installing the long catwalk for the fashion show.  From this:

To this:

Guests arrive~ Like my attorney #1, Chuck (and dear friend Jackie)

And my attorney #2, Chad, Chuck's son. (And wife, Julie.)

Because Chad is the eternal babyfaced boy, we like to tease and pretend we say to him, as if he was a three year old who's also hard of hearing:

"Now Chad, this is very IM POR TANT so you had better go get your Daddy."

Truth be told, you don't want to see either of these guys as opposing counsel.

Many of my friends, who I refer to as "The People Who Run Stuff", are elected officials like Bobbie Mitchell~

Ex mayor of the town I live in and now serves as County Commissioner.

LOVE her!

Many more guests were still arriving by this time but I decided a nice glass of chardonay and visiting with every body was more fun so, no more pics of guests arriving. M'bad.

The show begins!

That's my girl Kim, and Mark explaining the various charity donations that will be made this evening and the order of events; which are, fashion show, after party and casino!

Here they come!

A few of the models wore actual clothes, but I didn't want to bore you.

Okay, you got me. Actually, I've learned when selecting a new camera that perhaps one might need more infomation to go with instead of: "I'll take the pink one please."

My camera did not perform well in low lighting, additionally, when the models came to the end of the catwalk, my timing was off as I'd "click!" and then they'd turn and head back- so I have a lot of pictures of dim and fuzzy models with their back's turned.

So just imagine if you will, about 200 models all modeling- and there you have it!

Our fashion show dancers, ooooh, la la- aren't they gorgeous?

 

The casino opens!

A win!

The three girls are winning, but I know the forlorn guy on the right has already lost and is just hoping to get lucky with the blond dealer.

"Oh crap. It's a very bad night-" says the man in the striped shirt to himself.

And now he's crying.

The spirit of the evening was best captured by these two.

This is who I called, "Mr. Fun Guy" because he was an excellent dancer and he'd say during the after party, "Okay, it's time to model now!" And we'd all pile up on the catwalk and strut our stuff when he said we could go- because I told him, "You're in charge." Then he looks at the girls and I and says, "I'm in charge. Go!"

You know how you drink and just want to get up on the bar and dance sometimes? (You want that sometimes, right?) Well, we danced all night on the catwalk like this, whenever we felt like it.

This is my new girl, Kat- a class act all the way. I told her last week over martinis, you and me will dance to "American Woman" by Lenny Kravitz- and boy did we ever!

I adore this girl! Nichole (left). I don't know the other girl but I'm sure she's nice.

This is my general manager, Brandon, who's been with me for three years but likes to round up and say four. He also calls me "Momma", and loves to do so in crowded rooms to see me look up and say, "what?!" or picks up the microphone and says, "Momma, come here I need you", but knows me well enough to boss me around a little and demand, "Momma? I got this. Go sit down, you're making nervous."

Brandon is pictured with one of my favorite girls of the night. She was way fun.

See the party girl on the far right? That's actually my banker, Kenda. Every time I open a new account she takes me out to lunch at nicer places even than Jack in the Box.

But Kenda pulls me forcibly off the dance floor by my arm and tells me, "Marilisa, I need you to listen to me. This is IM POR TANT. See my friends over there? They are very, very wealthy. I need you to go talk to them."

"Gosh, Kenda. I can't right now. Kim's song (Boom Shak A Lak) is on and she can't do the dance moves to it without me!"

She's a great banker but sometimes her priorities are out of whack.

These are my awesome friends, Brandy (right) and Angie (left).

Angie made me laugh so hard because she knew every word complete with dance moves to the Miley Cyrus song, "And a Britney song was on, and a Britney song was on- so I put my hands up and was movin' my hips..." and performed them flawlessly on the dance floor.

It was truly wonderful to dance and laugh with my friends like that- at one point I had this moment of clarity, I guess you'd say, and I thought to myself,

how blessed am I? Look at this. This is my life. So lovely sometimes.

These poor white folks though. The dance floor is packed and they're all (trying) to do The Cupid Shuffle, and half are over here, half are over there.

"D.J., turn off the music!" I say.

No sound.

Everyone turns and looks at me, startled.

I take the mic and thus begin my discourse:

"Just what do you drunks think you're doing? First of all, everyone face me. Good. Now, everything I do, you do, okay?"

Parking on the dance floor. Come on now...

But I'm starving! (Too distracted to eat.)  This food was left unattended. I know it's horribly wrong to steal but- I snapped this shot of my last few bites!

To save the police trouble, can you spot who still has your cheese and is not letting go for dear life, in this line up?

Busted!

And just about that time, they all start doing this:

Would you look at that? Yeah, it's SO time to go~ it's 1:00 a.m.!

Babies.

But not for the girl after Entrepreneur Chick's own heart, the house lights are on but she's still dancing to "Hot Legs" by Rod Stewart.

All that was left behind was red and black boa droppings.

That, kids, is what you call a genuine, died in the wool, BIG TIME!

A Big Fuss for a Little Dress

People, you just don't know. It seemed like a pretty simple task. Choose a dress for the event tonight. So, I did.

Pretty sexy, huh? Wait until you see the back-

Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about.

Certainly you are not so naive as to believe that our work here is done? Oh no. Here we go. Fasten your freakin' fashion seat belts because...

Exactly what do you think I'm going to wear underneath that?

Let's evalutate the situation.

The back is open. OPEN. LOW. Soooo, no bra.

What?! No bra?!

Yes, hell has frozen over- I might go without a bra. I could ya know. A 34 B has a little jiggle but...

Okay, you've convinced me. I shall find a bra.

Are you happy now? Because I hope you are seeing as I am going to have to G-L-U-E it on my boobies. Have you spent a nice evening with glued boobies? I didn't think so.

And this is just the top half.

What about the legs? NOW what are we going to do since you're so Stephen Hawking over there, huh?

I want these:

But you say, nooooo, no. No. No. Because, you say, the dress is already busy enough with all the bling, bling- it'll look tacky.

Let me get this straight. I've got glued taa taas and you are worried about me looking tacky?

How about this, you say?

Hello? It's November. And you know I'm a white chick. Now you're going to have to make me mess with this inconvenience:

I'm not booking a spray tan appointment. Do you really want me to end up like this?

This is what I'm wearing and it's final. DEAL.

What about the shoes? Good question.

These would be so hawt!

Yes, you agree. They would. And should there be name tags mine can say;

Hello I'm: MarilisaAndalsoAHooker

Well. What about these?

Hello I'm: MarilisafromaplanetfarFarAway

Well, I'm going with these and it's final.

Oh, for heaven's sake. Of course I'm not wearing one black and one purple. How many shots of Bourbon have you had this morning?

Yes, *we* are all done-

Now my only two directives this evening well be:

1. Do not make out with a girl on the dance floor when they play Katy Perry. While, after two or three glasses of chardonay on an empty stomach I might think that's cute. It's not. Really. Not.

2. Do not drop it like it's hot on the dance floor either.

If I'm a little tipsy and can't be sure, I can always check the crowd for one of these:

Otherwise, me and my puddy kat are going to rock da houze!