I have been Controller, CFO, business owner, Managing Partner, and contractor - all in privately owned businesses. I also hold both a Bachelors degree and an MBA. With these qualifications, I can tackle your business project, strategic needs and technical writing.
My business background is in the service, construction and fitness industries. (I am also a group exercise instructor and have certifications in Nutrition and Kinesiology.)
My writing life has consisted of poetry, short stories, articles, brochures, Web site content and (soon) a novel.
I have been a humor writer since high school, and have a penchant for allowing it to creep in, even in my business ventures. Therefore, if you want a serious piece without the cynicism and self-deprecation, do specify. ;-)
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I have been wearing makeup and participating in activities involving eyelash curlers (nothing illegal, I assure you) for at least 25 years, maybe more.
Never, in said quarter of a century, have I fumbled the curler (hey, it’s football season) and ripped out the inner half of an eye’s worth of lashes. Ouch. One good thing about me is that I rarely do the same stupid thing twice, particularly when it comes to public shame and humiliation. So the good news is that, like a good predestination philosophy, I got that out of the way.
The incident (which I will call “Lashgate 2009”) occurred on a Friday morning. Saturday’s agenda was blasé, so little problem solving was required for the day’s events. Sunday was a different story. I had errands to run. In public. Gulp. I envisioned screaming children, tear-drenched faces buried in their mother’s designer jeans, hysterically crying “She doesn’t have any eye lashes!” Mother would glare at me, pat little Adam and Jessica on the backs while plucking a tissue from her Coach handbag and urging her children to look away.
The vision was scary, so I took the viewpoint that America had voted, and the results were in - I needed lashes. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a Brooke Shield’s lash miracle prescription handy. I did, however, thanks to a costume luau party in 2007, own a pair of fake eyelashes (no, I cannot remember how this was related to coconut bras and poi). I applied them because Sunday, in the scheme of upcoming days, could be a practice day. If they fall off in the checkout line at the grocery store in front of one checker, in the words of Gloria Gaynor, I will survive. However, if they fall off during a meeting or in front of 20 customers or business associates on Monday, I will pray that they grow back in a fashion reminiscent of Cousin Itt so that no future eye contact with others is required… ever.
The trial run, or shall I say Beta version, of the false eyelash application didn’t go so hot, but things have looked up in the days hence.
So without further ado, I present my:
Lessons of the False Eyelash
In conclusion, I give props to my friend Linda from Olympia, who has worn false eyelashes every day for years. In fact, she might have been born with them. Applying them makes the morning a little more cumbersome, but might give me that extra pop, who knows? And I can only hope and pray that in the near future I am saddled with a punishment by the hair growth gods of - what else? 50 lashes!