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How To Win At Business (or at least how not to be a douchebag)

How To Win At Business (or at least how not to be a douchebag)

After dealing with a lot of really stupid, mean, selfish, rude, cheap, and even abusive clients, I’m about done. No, I AM done.

1) unlimited rounds of revisions are NEVER in scope
2) it is not YOURS until you pay for it (try that in WalMart and see where that gets you…oh right, JAIL)
3) be nice and i’ll do more for you. be a condescending asshole, and i’ll fire you.
4) i have no hesitations in firing asshole clients (please refer to item #3)
5) even if i fire you, you are still responsible for paying me for the work that was completed under contract
6) not giving you your website, files, work i’ve done for you, etc. because you haven’t paid is NOT extortion. it’s work for hire, and it’s not YOUR work until you pay me for doing it (hence the hire part).
7) if you are stupid enough to argue the above, i’ll not only fire you, i’ll also take  you to court for what you owe me

that is all. #winning

I think I figured out what is wrong with the world

I think I figured out what is wrong with the world

Well first off, I haven’t blogged in months. Clearly that is an issue. Next, this blog is on Blogger (does anyone even use that anymore?!) and not WordPress. Another issue. However, on a much larger scale I’ve figure out a major #firstworldproblem.

Hair dryers.

No, really. You see, my friend borrowed my hair dryer to try to defrost the spigot in the barn this past weekend, and accidentally melted the end, and then left it in the shed to freeze. #ripoldhairdryer And yes, it’s been that fucking cold here that we’re using hair dryers in the barn. The rooster froze to the floor of a horse stall (we brought him inside but he was old and mean and died anyway). And every animal on the property that’s not a horse, now lives in the house. Really. It’s that fucking cold.

So after a week of sitting in front of my space heater with a wet head, I went looking for my hair dryer in the hopes that I could leave the house without my hair actually freezing to my head in seconds. When it’s in the negatives nearly every night, this is an actual concern, especially if you’re like me or my friend who borrowed my hair dryer and have long hair. When I found it in the barn I was devastated. Well, not entirely devastated, because it was older, but more so that it would mean if I washed my hair tonight, it would freeze to my head. Clearly, there was no other option. I couldn’t ever wash my hair again. I needed to buy a new hair dryer.

I got into my truck, and headed over the mountain to TJ Maxx, the light of my life and the main source of entertainment when it’s too cold to actually have any semblance of a real social life these days, all in pursuit of a new hair dryer. I had my friend in the loop via text message, and she offered to pay for a new dryer for me, but I insisted I’d split it with her since mine was older anyway. How hard could finding a hair dryer be? Oh was I in for it….

The options were either a POS Revlon that looked cheaper than the cheapest Motel-8 variation, or a select few for $$$$. There was even a hair dryer with red LED lazer lights (yes, spelled that way) to make your hair sleek and shiny as it dried. Lasers? On a hair dryer?! I had no idea there was this whole new level of hair dryer shopping, and so I Googled hair dryer reviews. 

And then I found this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUPSzGzJhbs

Really? For the record, I bought a hair dryer by Chi, that seemed relatively normal…we shall see…

Decadent Manic

Decadent Manic

I cleaned today. There was a lot of dust bunnies in my house. A morgue’s worth of dead flies (welcome to the first freeze of the season…followed by a 65 degree day and all the flies coming inside to save themselves. Great. I killed them by the hundreds or it seems like it) and there are now lots of tiny fly corpses on the floor of my kitchen just in time for my friend to come visit for the first time ever. Talk about great first impressions – sure don’t mind my clean house minus the fly cemetery in the kitchen…great.

I’m watching Frozen, finally. And lately I’ve been busier and more manic than ever. It seems to hit on Mondays, and be at bay for a few days til the next Monday it’s back. It’s terrifying. The hold it has on me is debilitating. And it scares me that years into being “better” that I can still have days as scary and debilitating like this. I don’t know how to fix it.

Like I said I am watching Frozen, finally. I love winter. All of it. The cold, the snow, the winds, and the chaos. And I understand the idea of being alone. I live such a full life, but I have so few I identify with. And those that I can identify with often, sadly, bear the brunt of my insanity. The fact that I have friends that regularly stand by me through that is nothing short of amazing.

You see, can let it go. Today and tomorrow. But I am having a hard time changing who I am. I am manic. And I am afraid, and sometimes that means being afraid of myself. Or of my lack of cleaning skills. By the way, in the midst of cleaning today, I also found spider poop (did you know spiders poop!? they do, and it’s white and dots like bad white out drips, under their webs, and it’s gross), and a mummified frog. I’d like to forget all of the above. But I have a clean house, a full (empty) bottle of wine, and am watching Frozen. And I am trying to let it go. Let it all go. I am what I am, manic and all. I just try to be a better person every day.


Successfully Charading as an Adult

Successfully Charading as an Adult

October is my birthday month, and I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve blogged on here. I supposed it’s because I’ve been so busy charading as an adult these days, and you know, working. 

I just turned 38, and decided I’d rather be 11. When my friend’s daughter who shares a birthday week told me she’d be 11 and asked how old I’d be, I said I was going to be 11 too! She didn’t believe me, but I told her it was better than being the age I was going to be, and to hang on to being a kid as long as she can! Seriously. This real world stuff can be exhausting!

It’s been raining every Saturday, which means my birthday bonfire still hasn’t happened. I’m wrapping up a few client projects which overlaps with some new client projects getting ready to start, and overall working from 10AM til 2AM isn’t all that unusual. And then there are days like today where I work from 10AM – 12PM and then run errands for 3 hours. Then I come home and work for a few more hours, and then go out and take care of my horses. Then I come back inside again and sit down and do a few reports, have a glass of wine, and call it a day. It makes me stop and realize just how much I can accomplish, and just how hard it must be being a real adult in the real REAL world.

My “corporate” pyramid

You see, I work for myself so that means I can make my own hours as long as I meet deadlines and goals for my clients. I work with a team of freelancers which means if we want to make more money or be more profitable, we work smarter, not harder. It also means that I can run errands in the middle of the day, take a morning off to fox hunt, or cram a 50+ hour work week into 3-4 days and have perpetual 3+ day weekends. Forever. Not bad, eh?

Realizing all of this, I realize just how much the real REAL world, as I’m calling it, totally, completely, fucking sucks. You’re encouraged to work harder, not smarter. At least that’s how it was when I was in the normal working world. If I got done 10 hours of work in 6 hours, I didn’t get to go home 2 hours early. Nope, I had to work more. If I worked late a few nights, I didn’t automatically get the day off after, or a half day Friday just because I worked so hard. Nope. I had to report to the office, work through client meetings, and sometimes even just have busy work to keep well…busy. Because that’s what the American workforce (at least the typical work-for-someone-else-in-a-white-collar-job) does. It just is. And it FUCKING sucks. I highly recommend against it.

Yeah, so then there’s me. And while I did legitimately log some 16h Monday, 9 or so on Tuesday, and then another 8 today, that means I’m already at 33h for the week. Tomorrow I’ll get about 3h of work done and then friday probably another 8h or so, still easily putting me over 40h for the week. Not too shabby. 

If I had to fit all that into a 9-5 work schedule, with a commute, scheduled lunches, and well, all the other corporate bullshit, I’d probably lose my mind. Okay, so maybe charading as an adult isn’t such a bad thing after all…at least the way it’s going for me. Rock on!

“Traditional” corporate pyramid LOL



A Case of the Mondays

A Case of the Mondays

The dryer stopped working. A horse that had a pinched nerve in his neck and was seemingly better had a bad day today. Needed the vet at the farm. My neck hurts. I am out of toilet paper. My new iPhone shipment was delayed and my 4S is hanging on by a thread. Oh, and it’s my birthday week. Happy Monday?Ugh. I feel like lately “one of those days” has been more like “every day” and really really REALLY need a change. It’s fall. That means there’s change on the wind, right? I mean really. Right? 

Thursday plans fell apart – then are coming back together. Saturday I’ve been planning a bonfire for weeks, preceded by wine tasting and apple picking to celebrate my birthday (which is Thursday) and now there’s a 90% chance of rain all day. Grrr….

It was such a Monday that when I finally sat down and a daddy longlegs fell off the ceiling onto to my arm, I screamed so loud I cried. Then I laughed so hard at myself I cried some more. And then I had wine.

42 minutes til Tuesday…and counting!


Manic Flying High

Manic Flying High

Last time I blogged, it was about being manic. Well this time it is too. It’s been far too long since I’ve blogged here, but lately blogging for clients everywhere else has taken precedence (oh yay paying bills and taxes!). And then fast forward to right now.

Right now I’m riding an incredible high. After days/weeks/months of one trial after another, one challenge, another setback, things like two of my horses yet again suffer major – and life threatening – setbacks in their injuries (with new ones to boot), nights of no sleep (quite literally) checking on them, stress on paying bills, more travel for work than I can afford or fit into a week or month within reason (I work for myself which is great, but also means work travel is paid by yours truly, to be argued on taxes after the fact…). Well, let’s just say I needed a break.


Queue this weekend and week. Great weather (it started to feel like fall, early – yes technically it is still summer until Sept 21st). Rainy Saturday meant grooming and barn time with both of my horses on layup. Last week the rest of my herd got worked. Sunday was an early morning hunter pace followed by an afternoon of (somewhat horrific but spent with great friends) football and beers. Yesterday the rescue mare that dropped a baby Saturday evening without warning was perking up. Dear friends came over for dinner. We had the first patio fire pit fire of the fall season. 

Today work was even more productive. My horses are healing well (even amazingly depending on which one you are talking about). Business is growing. My barn/riding team has a new name, a new Facebook page, and a new website is in the works. My horses are happy. My dogs and cats are cuddled around me. My fall decor is out, with champion ribbons from my favorite shows hanging around  my favorite red glass vase on my kitchen table, reminding me that it’s okay to take a break to rehab after an epic show season. 

Life. Is. Good. Great. Grand.



And, if you know me, or you are or know anyone that is manic, you are waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know it *just* started to get better. I know I have an epic October planned for my birthday that stands to be better than any year ever before. And I know that work is picking up yet again, my friends and family are amazing, and life just keeps getting better.

But I’m manic. And I’m skeptical. And I’m riding this wave as long as I can. I hope it lasts forever. I still wish on stars, and believe in magic. I still look for unicorns in my back yard among the bears and the deer. And I’ll always know that there are dragons and demons hiding in the shadows. Some are there to make me better, and some are of my own doing/undoing. 

For now, here’s to hoping this manic high lasts forever, or at least through my favorite season, and my birthday and my favorite holiday (Halloween) into my next favorite – winter and all that it brings. Haunt me with lows another day. For today I’m haunted with the brilliance of Autumn and October and all that it brings! Man, just wait til you hear what I have planned for my birthday weekend……epic and a half and then some and icing on the cake to boot!



My Hometown

My Hometown

Sometimes good ol country music really matters and after a week that makes most days look like hell and then some, and this was even worse, all I have to say is give me back my hometown. Here. Now. Not where I grew up (though that was damn awesome too). But the hometown where we have fireworks and beer, and where no one thinks I am weird for staying in all holiday weekend to check on my injured horse. Where this is life, and how we live, every day.

So how are you doing, kid? How is life out there? Out everywhere but here? Because I promise you I’d take this alone over the falsities of any suburban America any day. This is life. This is real. And I love each and every one of my friends for it.

And then this happened – I was alone, and I was happy, and I was loved. Thank you.

And then This Happened

And then This Happened

After a bunch of really stressful weeks, and an incredibly stressful month, things were capped off by the passing of Robin Williams, a personal inspiration of mine that drove me to pen this blog: “A Different Point of View, Captain.” Based on this, a friend shared this awesome tribe poster an artist in Canada did for Robin, and I was just wowed. I connected with the artist on Facebook, asking where I could get a print, and it turned out he didn’t have that set up yet. 

Guess what? Well he’s been retweeted by Rosie O’Donnell, flying all over social media, and until recently, you couldn’t even order one. Now you can, and I am really really excited. You can order one through the artist, Tyler Boyco, here: http://www.redbubble.com/people/tylerboyco/works/12467133-minimalist-inspired-robin-williams-character-tribute?p=art-print





Yeah, it’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?

So what are you waiting for? Order one already, will ya? And if anyone is interested in a limited edition signed and numbered print, Tyler is looking into getting a special run on high quality acid free paper to get that done. Pricing will be more than the poster, obviously, but drop a note in the comments if you are interested, and I’ll be sure to pass along the details!

Sometimes, even when life is rough, the good stuff just keeps on shining through. 

A Different Point Of View, Captain

Robin Williams Memorial by Tyler Boyco

I posted this on Facebook yesterday because the passing of Robin Williams hit me so hard. It’s just now that I’m able to really put my thoughts together, and it only seems fitting that I start off with this.

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Thank you, for the years of laughs, the great memories, and the movie that, quite literally, changed my life and helped me with my own struggle with depression. It became the namesake for me and my friends, morphing from the ever-popular “Dead Poet’s Society” into our own “Lost Soul’s Society” on a subway train in Manhattan with the best friends a girl could ever ask for. Just weeks later, I mourned the loss of one of those friends, and our namesake was later tattooed on my ankle in his – and our – honor. 

All because of a great movie, with a great actor, that helped us understand we were not alone in our fight against depression, and showing us great inspiration that carried over to life.

Godspeed, Robin, and I am sorry that the people and world you helped save and the light you shared with all of us, was unable to save you. Much love to you and your family. You did more than make me laugh, you inspired me to live. 

o captain


Later today, after a long day on the road, I came back and added to it, with my memories of Good Will Hunting (which I wanted to watch tonight, and has somehow gone missing). It was in response to this shrine that popped up in his honor at that famous bench in Boston: http://www.buzzfeed.com/krystieyandoli/robin-williams-fans-spontaneously-turned-the-good-will-hunti 

Similar to how Dead Poet’s Society was a breakthrough moment in my late teens in coping with my own depression, Good Will Hunting followed, and I started for the first time to learn, and truly believe, it wasn’t my fault. Thank you, Robin. And thank you to all of his fans who took the time to do this. I am with you in spirit, one that Robin helped save through his art, through his talent, and through his ability to reach out through a movie screen and touch the lives of those who watched him bring his characters and their stories to life. They were his stories, they were our stories, and he will live on through moments like this. ‪#‎thankyourobin‬

not your fault



And it reminded me of when I thought it was my fault. When depression had a hold on me and dragged me down. And even of my recent struggles of feeling alone again despite a life filled with a busy schedule, amazing friends and family, and a place to call home. 

You see, depression doesn’t discriminate. And it rarely attacks the weak, at least in my experience. It needs a strong will and a strong soul to latch on to. One that can fight it and feed it, get ahead of it to feel like you’re winning to realize that your demons aren’t gone, and that they may never really will be.

I suffer from depression. Manic. For many many years. And while I’ve beat it most of the time, most of the ways that I can, recently I slid back into it again. It wasn’t a relapse like I’ve had in past years, but it wasn’t good either. I felt despair, alone, and lost. I fought to keep myself as busy as possible, packing my schedule and sure to always be the life of the party, the planner, and the one at the hub of all work and social plans to ensure that I rarely had a free moment to myself. Because you see, when I did have a free moment to myself, I became lost in my own thoughts and fell back into the fears and patterns of depression and addiction, things I’ve struggled with my whole life. 

These two often go hand in hand, like the Genie and Aladdin, a pair that lean on each other, and help each other in a way that you don’t truly understand unless you’ve lived through them both together. They feed into each other, and before you know it, you’re seeking out that depression and addiction because it’s the place your brain starts to call home.

Depression lies. It uses addiction to help. And neither will ever be your friend.

I’ve been suicidal, with, sadly, the scars to prove it. I promised if I could share my story to help just one other person from going through what I went through, that I would forgive myself, and never regret, because I could use it to help save others. And so I share my story with you. 

Robin Williams inspired my life in so many ways, and in those two key movies, gave me such inspiration as to cry, fear, and feel broken, while also finding the inspiration that he offered his students in “Dead Poet’s Society” to reach inside of me and salute my captain, and stand up in what I believed in. He gave me the strength to forgive myself in “Good Will Hunting” when he said, “It’s not your fault,” and I wept, because in that line in that movie, I understood, and again I started to have hope that there was light at the end of this tunnel.

No, depression is not for the weak, the coward, or anyone looking for the easy way out. It’s a disease of the strong, a battle of the wills, and when it claims someone we love and inspired us, let it serve as a reminder that it is never the easy way out. It is the hardest end you can imagine, but one you face when you feel all of your other options are far harder, scarier, and worse to face. I am not saying this metaphorically. I am saying this because I have done this, I have lived this, and I have been there. And with eternal thanks to many people in my life, and to Robin Williams for being a key part of that inspiration at two pivotal points in my own young life, I thank you. I thank all of you.

Please do not lament his loss, but revel in his inspiration, and take a moment to understand mental illness better. Sometimes, just listening, sharing a moment, or watching a movie, can make a lifetime of difference.

Thank you, Robin. For teaching me to love myself, look at things from a different point of view, and inspiring me to hold on to my own spark of madness. Goodwill, and Godspeed.



There is a God and he is a cowboy, and his name is Jack. I have proof.

There is a God and he is a cowboy, and his name is Jack. I have proof.
I just posted this on Instagram because it’s so true, and it just happened. Really. And it’s worth sharing. I mean how often do you get proof of a God, and even more so, that his name is Jack? Right? Pretty awesome if you ask me. Especially since earlier today that I was saying that I wish I wasn’t driving hours away and back home because I sure could use some shots of Jack. But I couldn’t because I had to drive a few hours home and drinking and driving is very not cool. That and I didn’t have any Jack. But then this happened.

Sometimes you have a shitty day on the road. And then sometimes on the way home in a brief respite between deluges of storms, you stop at a small liquor store in Nowhere, NY and this happens. For half off. And suddenly you know there is a God. And he’s a cowboy. And his name is Jack. #thankyou#keepthefaith #jackdaniels #purplecowboy

Because life on the road can be hard, and while I’m not on the road nearly as much as some people I know, and nothing compared to a pro athlete or performer, I also don’t live nearly as glamorous life. I travel where I need, when I need, for work, in support of clients, and in support of my horse habit (horse shows, horse racing, fox hunting, rodeos, and wherever else I want or need to go). And while it’s nothing compared to some I know, it’s hectic, and I miss home when I’m not home, as much as I also love the open road. There’s nothing quite like a good country playlist, the windows down, sunglasses on, cruising in my truck as it eats up the road with the mountains rolling by. Even tonight on the way home, with the thunder crashing in the distance as the lightning flashed its own fireworks in the sky illuminating the mountains for moments at a time, as the steam rolled across the highway when the rain pelted down, breaking the humidity that hung so heavy in the air all day….yes, even tonight was amazing. Up until the realization that I was coming home alone. 

You see, being alone is a beautiful thing. But sometimes, being alone means also being lonely, even though they aren’t nearly the same at all. And nights like these, I’d give almost anything to have someone to come home to. Someone to drink that Jack with, rather than letting it sit on my shelf until the weekend when friends are here to share it with (I won’t drink Jack on my own), and instead sipping on some wine as I unwind. I look around and see the animals all around me that make my life full, and I love them. I just still wish that I had someone to share this all with.

A long day on the road, hard day in the heat, and rough drive home in the rain watching the lightning over the mountains. Sometimes it’s wonderful being alone. And sometimes it’s just lonely. Then stopping for wine on the way in a break in the storm and bam! Score 2 bottles of 2013 Christmas Jack at half off each. Good to share with friends and wine for a quiet night tonight alone whenever I do make it home…

Still can’t believe that happened, y’all really! Purple Cowboy. And Limited Edition 2013 Christmas Jack Daniels for half off. HALF OFF. Right after saying I wished I had Jack before I left the races and fair today. And do you even know how fast that stuff usually sells out?!?! MONTHS ago…um…. Hi, God, and thank you. I mean Cowboy Jack. See? He really does listen!