As of this moment, my business has ceased to exist as I knew it. Everything has been flipped upside down and I'm doing my best to make sense of this mess. After watching my panini stand consistently decline in Rob's care, it was decided that deal or no deal, I was shutting it down. Each weekend he and his girlfriend spent there resulted in the further trailer trashing of my concept. I expected the menu to change, but I also expected my standards to upheld and sadly, they were not.
The final straw came last weekend when my husband and I were out of town for a wedding. I received a phone call from the inspector from the state inquiring about my process for canning my pasta sauces. I walked her through it and she told me she'd consult with her supervisor and get back to me. Five minutes later she called me back with the most devastating news I could have received at this time. I had to stop selling my sauces immediately and they all had to be removed from the shelf. Apparently, the complaint came from an inspector from the dept. of agriculture, who wanted to know about my canning process siting botulism as a potential hazard. Oh sure. Botulism, huh? My sauces have been on the shelves for over a year and my space has been subject to at least 4 inspections, but noooow we're concerned about botulism? Whatever.
The fact is that Grouchy, the dept. of agriculture inspector, has had it out for me from the beginning. After refusing to license me under her department, which would have cost a quarter of the price of the one I had to obtain from DBPR, she allowed some of her buddies at the market do what I do under her permit. No uber expensive additional permits required. She's been eyeballing my sauces since I brought them to the market and has made several snide remarks about them, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. OH! But the timing! She put me out of business beginning Black Friday weekend! And in order to comply with the department of agriculture's requirement, it's going to be a long process that's going to cost me a lot of money I don't have, which kind of sucks considering that the dept. of agriculture has essentially laid me off.
I have spent this entire past week researching what to do next and making phone calls between sobs and snot. My husband, CP, made a determination that come this weekend, our booth at the market would be an empty spot. I guess he wants to make a statement. After so many problems and circumstances that have relentlessly chiseled away at my bottom line, CP had enough. So we packed up the booth and got it all into a storage facility today. So no market booth and no sauces. At least I still have my meatballs, right?
So what's the plan? Well, we're going to start by sending the first group of samples to the labs for chemical analysis and to determine whether they are shelf stable. In addition to sending the samples, I am required to forward complete recipes (nooooooo) measured by weight with specific procedures for them to determine that my ingredients and processes are appropriate. Afterwards, we have to have HACCP (hazard analysis & critical control points) plans completed for each sauce. Once that is completed, we need to prepare a certified kitchen somewhere somehow solely for the purpose of production, and then we have to have the facility inspected by none other than Grouchy herself.
Are you tempted to go out and play in traffic yet? I think I'd be less gnarly and run over if I did. So the bottom line is that either I play by their rules or I don't get to play. But if I play by their rules and master it, my product will actually have a fighting chance of getting onto the shelves of some great local gourmet stores. Anything's possible, right?
Let me tell you something and listen (or read) carefully. Anyone who can make it through the muck with a clear conscience and an honest day's work and still be successful, deserves to be successful. This may be the land of opportunity, but the opportunities are not easy to get and sometimes you'll have to jump through hoops like a circus poodle to get anywhere. If you have a dream, go for it, but be prepared for monkey wrenches, disillusionment, disappointment, exhaustion, and frustration. But more importantly, whatever happens, never give up hope. It may be the only thing that will keep you going when you're ready to throw your hands in the air and quit.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Welcome to My World
This week has been an interesting turn of events. Last Sunday, I found myself stuck at one of the markets waiting for one of my employees to arrive so that I could leave to work at another market. Sure enough, he was late due to a nasty flash flood that affected several parts of the county, and as I impatiently waited for him, a slightly disturbing thought crossed my mind. The little voice said, "That's it. I'm done. I don't wanna do this anymore.", and just like that I decided that I had had enough of the market. There would be no working through the season or waiting to sell it; I was done now. By the time he arrived, it was too late to set up at the other market, which I was depending on in order to pay the rent at the current market. It was so frustrating I felt like dropping to my knees and crying, but the show had to go on and we were somehow going to get through the day without any nervous breakdowns.
As I've mentioned before, one of my signature menu items are my 'famous' meatballs (yes, they really are that good) and there was already someone else copying me. Sunday morning, I learned that yet another lack luster vendor was serving the same item and had also drastically undercut my price, as well. Needless to say, that made my head spin. In addition to this, the owner of the market himself had put yet another booth in the market, this time across the hall from me, selling pastas and pasta sauces. The bread and pastries guy was selling paninis, like me. There's another booth selling crepes that opened a couple weeks after I had begun selling them. Little by little, my original menu was 'original' no longer. On top of that, my employees simply wouldn't do what I asked. They operated my business as though they knew better than me. Weekend after weekend of correcting, retraining, reorganizing, recreating, and reprimanding wore me down. While they walked away each Sunday with cash in hand, all I had to look forward to was another week of cracking my skull trying to figure out how to replenish the inventory, prepare more sauces, and cover all the expenses with the peanuts I was left to work with.
It just wasn't worth it. I don't consider myself to be a quitter, but sometimes knowing when to let go is one of the most valuable business decisions one can make. This being said, decisions like this need to be made responsibly without abruptly disrupting what has become a staple to many of our customers throughout the past year. So I made my friend and assistant, Rob, an offer I hoped he couldn't refuse. I offered him the opportunity to run the business as his own for the next month and if he did well and wanted to continue, he could purchase it from me in small payments. Great opportunity, right? Yeah sure... little did he know the burden he was about to take on.
This Sunday, as I breezed in to collect the money he owed me to reimburse me for the rent I paid upfront, the invoice for the vodka sauce and meatballs I supplied for him, and my cut on the jars of sauce he had sold for me, I felt like an Italian mafioso. He worked his ass off this weekend, but by the time he paid Mandy, the other assistant (who spent most of the weekend flirting with the new girl at the flower stand), me, and running out to buy some emergency supplies, Rob was walking away with about $30. I didn't know whether to laugh in relief or cry on his behalf. As he and his girlfriend stared at the scraps they were left with in disbelief, all I could offer was, "Welcome to my world.".
As I've mentioned before, one of my signature menu items are my 'famous' meatballs (yes, they really are that good) and there was already someone else copying me. Sunday morning, I learned that yet another lack luster vendor was serving the same item and had also drastically undercut my price, as well. Needless to say, that made my head spin. In addition to this, the owner of the market himself had put yet another booth in the market, this time across the hall from me, selling pastas and pasta sauces. The bread and pastries guy was selling paninis, like me. There's another booth selling crepes that opened a couple weeks after I had begun selling them. Little by little, my original menu was 'original' no longer. On top of that, my employees simply wouldn't do what I asked. They operated my business as though they knew better than me. Weekend after weekend of correcting, retraining, reorganizing, recreating, and reprimanding wore me down. While they walked away each Sunday with cash in hand, all I had to look forward to was another week of cracking my skull trying to figure out how to replenish the inventory, prepare more sauces, and cover all the expenses with the peanuts I was left to work with.
It just wasn't worth it. I don't consider myself to be a quitter, but sometimes knowing when to let go is one of the most valuable business decisions one can make. This being said, decisions like this need to be made responsibly without abruptly disrupting what has become a staple to many of our customers throughout the past year. So I made my friend and assistant, Rob, an offer I hoped he couldn't refuse. I offered him the opportunity to run the business as his own for the next month and if he did well and wanted to continue, he could purchase it from me in small payments. Great opportunity, right? Yeah sure... little did he know the burden he was about to take on.
This Sunday, as I breezed in to collect the money he owed me to reimburse me for the rent I paid upfront, the invoice for the vodka sauce and meatballs I supplied for him, and my cut on the jars of sauce he had sold for me, I felt like an Italian mafioso. He worked his ass off this weekend, but by the time he paid Mandy, the other assistant (who spent most of the weekend flirting with the new girl at the flower stand), me, and running out to buy some emergency supplies, Rob was walking away with about $30. I didn't know whether to laugh in relief or cry on his behalf. As he and his girlfriend stared at the scraps they were left with in disbelief, all I could offer was, "Welcome to my world.".
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Ready to Transition
Some people are inspired when they read about how a young couple got out of debt, paid off their mortgage, and now can invest $20K a year just in building wealth with only one spouse working, 3 little kids in tow, and their dream house completely paid off before they turn 40. Me? It makes my head want to explode.
I have been busting my chops to pay myself $160 a week. That's right, folks... $160 big fat buckaroos. I used to make more on unemployment. Sure, I can take pride in saying that I EARNED that $160, but I've never worked so damn hard to make peanuts. I'm talking about at least 70-80 hours a week, no joke! My weekly schedule looks something like this:
Monday: Day Off / Buy more jars day.
Tuesday: Prepare purchasing list, menu, and go all over the city buying supplies.
Wednesday: Finish purchasing and begin production.
Thursday: Production continues and label all the jars.
Friday: Prep work for the panini stand. Set up one of the market booths and prepare inventory for the other market booth.
Saturday: Run booth at one market and then go to other market to close.
Sunday: Open and play short order cook all day at the panini stand.
REPEAT.
I'm tired. I am soooo tired. There's so much more to it than this, of course, but you get the jist. Earlier this week, I was thinking about how I would ever achieve any of my dreams or get a break with only $160 per week. The answer: never. Frustration and desperation washed over me as I thought about the mess I have gotten myself in to. Then today, as I drove around shopping for supplies, a scary but liberating thought crossed my mind. Sell the business. Well, the panini stand portion of it, anyway.
My first reaction was to pretend it hadn't crossed my mind. Afterall, selling my little startup would be like giving up my firstborn for adoption. But the more I thought about it, the more liberating it felt. If all goes according to plan, the panini stand will be placed on the market by the end of the first quarter or beginning of the second quarter of 2012. After mucking through these horrendous summer months, you better believe I have every intention of rocking the high season months before bowing out. Afterwards, I'll just continue to dedicate time to selling my sauces and take it from there.
It's impossible to predict what's going to happen in the next six months, but I do know that I'm ready to move on. I suppose that having the wisdom to know when I've had enough and having the courage to let go are two important lessons I'll be able to take away from this experience. I created something really nice, and it's been a great experience, but it's time to step up onto the next rung of my career ladder.
I have been busting my chops to pay myself $160 a week. That's right, folks... $160 big fat buckaroos. I used to make more on unemployment. Sure, I can take pride in saying that I EARNED that $160, but I've never worked so damn hard to make peanuts. I'm talking about at least 70-80 hours a week, no joke! My weekly schedule looks something like this:
Monday: Day Off / Buy more jars day.
Tuesday: Prepare purchasing list, menu, and go all over the city buying supplies.
Wednesday: Finish purchasing and begin production.
Thursday: Production continues and label all the jars.
Friday: Prep work for the panini stand. Set up one of the market booths and prepare inventory for the other market booth.
Saturday: Run booth at one market and then go to other market to close.
Sunday: Open and play short order cook all day at the panini stand.
REPEAT.
I'm tired. I am soooo tired. There's so much more to it than this, of course, but you get the jist. Earlier this week, I was thinking about how I would ever achieve any of my dreams or get a break with only $160 per week. The answer: never. Frustration and desperation washed over me as I thought about the mess I have gotten myself in to. Then today, as I drove around shopping for supplies, a scary but liberating thought crossed my mind. Sell the business. Well, the panini stand portion of it, anyway.
My first reaction was to pretend it hadn't crossed my mind. Afterall, selling my little startup would be like giving up my firstborn for adoption. But the more I thought about it, the more liberating it felt. If all goes according to plan, the panini stand will be placed on the market by the end of the first quarter or beginning of the second quarter of 2012. After mucking through these horrendous summer months, you better believe I have every intention of rocking the high season months before bowing out. Afterwards, I'll just continue to dedicate time to selling my sauces and take it from there.
It's impossible to predict what's going to happen in the next six months, but I do know that I'm ready to move on. I suppose that having the wisdom to know when I've had enough and having the courage to let go are two important lessons I'll be able to take away from this experience. I created something really nice, and it's been a great experience, but it's time to step up onto the next rung of my career ladder.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Get Your Balls While They're Hot!
The meatball war is ON! As usual, drama is impossible to avoid no matter how much I try. Incredibly enough, it just shows up on my doorstep, knocks, and then lets itself into my life. A couple months ago I hired a former classmate to help me at the market and I spent her first morning introducing her to many of the other vendors at the market. We were almost at the end of our tour when I introduced Makia (this is not her name, but this is what my husband insists on calling her, so I guess it's a perfect alias) to the Drama Queen (DQ).
It went something like this, "Hi DQ! This is my friend Makia. She's going to be working with us from now on." DQ LOUDLY replies, "Oh, so I heard you wanted to hire my girl (the chick that runs her lemonade stand)." Huh? So I repeated, "Um, DQ, this is MAKIA and she's going to be working with us from now on. Your girl introduced herself to me a few weeks ago along with her boyfriend who was looking for a job, but I didn't hire him." DQ apparently doesn't understand English so she said, "That's ok, you don't have to offer me any explanations. I know you wanted to hire my girl over there. By the way, what the EFF is wrong with this EFFING generation? Why do they think they're so entitled to everything nowadays? Can you believe this girl already asked for a raise after working for me for 2 weeks?!". DQ proceeded to LOUDLY continue going on and on about all her grievances regarding this chick while Makia slowly began to step away. I cut DQ off and continued our tour.
A few hours later, I hear that the chick quit on DQ in the middle of her shift. Not long afterwards, the chick is at my booth personally telling me that she had quit and proceeds to tell me the reasons. We talked about it, I agreed with most of her complaints, but I told her that she made two fatal mistakes. First of all, she quit on someone in the middle of a shift leaving them completely stranded. You never burn bridges that way and it's incredibly unprofessional. Secondly, she quit before she got paid for the previous day of work. She was intimidated by DQ and afraid to ask her for her pay of $50 for the previous day, so she asked if I would accompany her to talk to the DQ.... and my bleeding heart agreed.
At the end of the day, I approached DQ with the chick in tow and said, "DQ, I'm here because this morning you shared something with me and then later on the chick shared something with me, and I was hoping you both could come to an amicable resolution to this problem. The chick was nervous about talking to you, but I told her that you're perfectly reasonable and there's no reason why this issue can't be resolved." Why did I do that? WHY?? DQ went off in a dramatic rant insulting the chick, the chick attempted to defend herself, and all that was accomplished was that DQ ripped off the chick, who is only 16 years old, and didn't pay her (DQ called it a $50 lesson), the chick never attempted to stand up for herself after that by having her parents assist her with this problem, and DQ decided to retaliate against me personally.
So what's my punishment for being Miss Goody Two Shoes? DQ decided to sabotage my business by copying my signature menu item: Meatball Subs. Her disgusting mediocre frozen meatballs with her ragu sauce were being sold on the same premises as my glorious tender delicious meatballs with my finger licking sauce. How daaare she? So now the bar, aka DQ's Tropical Escape, has meatball subs and chicken parmesan on the menu. My sales immediately took a nose dive and my anger nearly ate me alive.
I was overwhelmingly advised not to tear her head off or even demonstrate that I cared, otherwise she'd continue doing it. I spoke to the manager who has done nothing but give me some lame cop out to justify her lack of ethics and professionalism considering that DQ has done nothing but complain since the market opened a year ago that everyone copies whatever she does. Suddenly, it became ok for her to copy my signature item, not that she hasn't copied at least three of my other menu items in the past.
Although I've heard customers complain that her meatballs suck (of course they would), she's still selling the damn things. The only thing that gives me a little satisfaction is the knowledge that she's losing her ass and she was forced to close her lemonade stand because nobody can work with her. HA! But it's still annoying.
Now I'm making it a point to let people know that my meatballs are authentic delicious balls of heaven and my newest employee and friend has made it his mission to sell them to everyone and anyone who passes by - not even vegetarians are safe from his efforts. So if you walk by my booth and a good looking young man says, "Get your balls while they're hot!", please don't slap him.
It went something like this, "Hi DQ! This is my friend Makia. She's going to be working with us from now on." DQ LOUDLY replies, "Oh, so I heard you wanted to hire my girl (the chick that runs her lemonade stand)." Huh? So I repeated, "Um, DQ, this is MAKIA and she's going to be working with us from now on. Your girl introduced herself to me a few weeks ago along with her boyfriend who was looking for a job, but I didn't hire him." DQ apparently doesn't understand English so she said, "That's ok, you don't have to offer me any explanations. I know you wanted to hire my girl over there. By the way, what the EFF is wrong with this EFFING generation? Why do they think they're so entitled to everything nowadays? Can you believe this girl already asked for a raise after working for me for 2 weeks?!". DQ proceeded to LOUDLY continue going on and on about all her grievances regarding this chick while Makia slowly began to step away. I cut DQ off and continued our tour.
A few hours later, I hear that the chick quit on DQ in the middle of her shift. Not long afterwards, the chick is at my booth personally telling me that she had quit and proceeds to tell me the reasons. We talked about it, I agreed with most of her complaints, but I told her that she made two fatal mistakes. First of all, she quit on someone in the middle of a shift leaving them completely stranded. You never burn bridges that way and it's incredibly unprofessional. Secondly, she quit before she got paid for the previous day of work. She was intimidated by DQ and afraid to ask her for her pay of $50 for the previous day, so she asked if I would accompany her to talk to the DQ.... and my bleeding heart agreed.
At the end of the day, I approached DQ with the chick in tow and said, "DQ, I'm here because this morning you shared something with me and then later on the chick shared something with me, and I was hoping you both could come to an amicable resolution to this problem. The chick was nervous about talking to you, but I told her that you're perfectly reasonable and there's no reason why this issue can't be resolved." Why did I do that? WHY?? DQ went off in a dramatic rant insulting the chick, the chick attempted to defend herself, and all that was accomplished was that DQ ripped off the chick, who is only 16 years old, and didn't pay her (DQ called it a $50 lesson), the chick never attempted to stand up for herself after that by having her parents assist her with this problem, and DQ decided to retaliate against me personally.
So what's my punishment for being Miss Goody Two Shoes? DQ decided to sabotage my business by copying my signature menu item: Meatball Subs. Her disgusting mediocre frozen meatballs with her ragu sauce were being sold on the same premises as my glorious tender delicious meatballs with my finger licking sauce. How daaare she? So now the bar, aka DQ's Tropical Escape, has meatball subs and chicken parmesan on the menu. My sales immediately took a nose dive and my anger nearly ate me alive.
I was overwhelmingly advised not to tear her head off or even demonstrate that I cared, otherwise she'd continue doing it. I spoke to the manager who has done nothing but give me some lame cop out to justify her lack of ethics and professionalism considering that DQ has done nothing but complain since the market opened a year ago that everyone copies whatever she does. Suddenly, it became ok for her to copy my signature item, not that she hasn't copied at least three of my other menu items in the past.
Although I've heard customers complain that her meatballs suck (of course they would), she's still selling the damn things. The only thing that gives me a little satisfaction is the knowledge that she's losing her ass and she was forced to close her lemonade stand because nobody can work with her. HA! But it's still annoying.
Now I'm making it a point to let people know that my meatballs are authentic delicious balls of heaven and my newest employee and friend has made it his mission to sell them to everyone and anyone who passes by - not even vegetarians are safe from his efforts. So if you walk by my booth and a good looking young man says, "Get your balls while they're hot!", please don't slap him.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Reflection
Some things are so predictable that they don't even arouse my anger anymore, just the dull throb of disappointment. In an effort to mend at least one broken fragment of the relationship between my mother and two of my uncles, I had an opportunity to reflect on how influential our upbringing is in who we become as adults. My mother is a drama queen, impossible to please or satisfy. Her mother is a drama queen, impossible to please or satisfy. I typically run in the opposite direction of drama queens, although I have had my own dramatic fits on a few occasions.
I envy people who gleefully recall their childhood memories because I don't remember much of it at all. Most of the memories I have are bitter at best. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, I was not abused. I was just unhappy because of the way I was treated. Sadly, my family is oblivious to it since even when I have told them my about my childhood and adolescent experience, they give me a blank stare and ask me what I'm talking about. Perhaps that's the reason I've chosen a service career; maybe it's my way of making other people happy since it's not something I experienced often.
Sometimes I wish I was different. I'd like to be relaxed, light hearted, and sweet. Instead I'm usually an uptight opinionated smart-ass. My ego has taken a pretty hard beating throughout my childhood constatnly being put down, insulted, and criticized. It's unfortunate that I carried some of those awful things with me into adulthood, but at least I'm conscious of it and attempt to stop myself whenever I catch myself being a jerk.
I guess the point of writing this is to ask anyone reading this to be kind to the people you love, treat them with respect. Let them know how you feel and be sincere. Don't love them only when they're good to you or when they're doing favors for you. Don't expect the same feelings to be reciprocated, but if they are, be grateful. You can't control other people's emotions or experiences, but at least you can contribute to some happy memories in their lives.
I envy people who gleefully recall their childhood memories because I don't remember much of it at all. Most of the memories I have are bitter at best. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, I was not abused. I was just unhappy because of the way I was treated. Sadly, my family is oblivious to it since even when I have told them my about my childhood and adolescent experience, they give me a blank stare and ask me what I'm talking about. Perhaps that's the reason I've chosen a service career; maybe it's my way of making other people happy since it's not something I experienced often.
Sometimes I wish I was different. I'd like to be relaxed, light hearted, and sweet. Instead I'm usually an uptight opinionated smart-ass. My ego has taken a pretty hard beating throughout my childhood constatnly being put down, insulted, and criticized. It's unfortunate that I carried some of those awful things with me into adulthood, but at least I'm conscious of it and attempt to stop myself whenever I catch myself being a jerk.
I guess the point of writing this is to ask anyone reading this to be kind to the people you love, treat them with respect. Let them know how you feel and be sincere. Don't love them only when they're good to you or when they're doing favors for you. Don't expect the same feelings to be reciprocated, but if they are, be grateful. You can't control other people's emotions or experiences, but at least you can contribute to some happy memories in their lives.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Drawing the Line
Today I was pushed beyond my limits. I lost my cool and was infuriated by the blatant disrespect of one of my employees. It's something that's been irking me for several weeks, with one offense after another. I've spoken to him about it only to have it all go in one ear and right out the other. The tardiness, laziness, cockiness, arrogance, combativeness, and lack of accountability, reliability, and responsibility, finally took its toll.
I resisted the urge to impulsively fire him on the spot on several occasions, but today's topper was when I was told that I wasn't in fact being disrespected, but I was interpreting that what was happening was disrespect when in fact it wasn't. Well, now you're fired. Interpret that.
It's liberating in a way, since I have always been concerned about what would happen if my "star" employee were to leave. He knows the operation inside out, but you know what? Who cares? I decided not to have my business held hostage by an 18-year old high school drop out.
I resisted the urge to impulsively fire him on the spot on several occasions, but today's topper was when I was told that I wasn't in fact being disrespected, but I was interpreting that what was happening was disrespect when in fact it wasn't. Well, now you're fired. Interpret that.
It's liberating in a way, since I have always been concerned about what would happen if my "star" employee were to leave. He knows the operation inside out, but you know what? Who cares? I decided not to have my business held hostage by an 18-year old high school drop out.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Who Said This Would Be Easy?
The last couple of weeks have been like my own little black hole. There has been lots of production, a move, financial catastrophe, personnel and personal drama, and lots and lots of physical exhaustion, migraines, and back pain. So needless to say, guess who has been a cranky bitch?
Just to catch up, here's the semi-short version of a bunch of long stories. I moved my booths at the market from a 3 booth spot in "suburbia" to a 2 booth corner in the middle of the market's version of Manhattan. So now I have less space, but I do have location location location! Yay!... I think. Truth be told, it's impossible to predict how things will go in our bipolar market. Saturday was great, Sunday was bad enough to bring forth tears of utter frustration. I made the decision to eliminate the paninis, which had initially been the primary cornerstone of my business, because I simply got tired of spending so much money to replenish inventory that would either perish or had to be given away every weekend. Besides, with at least two other vendors now selling paninis and generally copying my concept, I decided to focus on some other aspects of my menu instead.
The anxiety that has come as a result of making such a drastic change has been kicking my butt all week. The truth is that this is hard. I'm sure there are infinitely more difficult things to do, but all of my eggs are not in those baskets, so all of my energy is focused into my little market(s). There are so many factors affecting my business, including many that are simply out of my control like the crummy economy, some of the market's restrictions, the tourist-less summer season, the heat (and occasionally the rain), and the apparent inability for the market to successfully advertise its existence. Based on customer feedback, I'm confident that my food and sauces are good, but there's always room for improvement.
My husband and I frequently bicker about our finances and everything I should or shouldn't be doing to improve the situation. I don't want my business to sink into mediocrity, but if it were up to him, I wouldn't sell anything but meatballs (I'm exaggerating a bit, but he is incredibly minimalistic). He has a valid point, but the fact is that the food industry is very different from IT and electronics. The motivating factors for our customers are completely different and the simple fact is that my patrons demand variety. I just wish my patrons were consistent. Few things are as annoying as people who stop at my booth, see my jars of pasta sauce, try my samples, and then say, "I think what you're doing in this place is wonderful. I just love this market. Good luck!", and then walk away without buying anything! The odds are that my luck would drastically improve if people would just buy something. Anything. Instead we've become a prime hangout for market mall rats who love to wander up and down the aisles for the sake of exercise.
Now I'm doing what I always do... figuring out what else I can do / make / sell / promote in order to bring something different into the market. It must be something that no one else will copy, but is easy and inexpensive to prepare. I have something in mind, but I'm giving it a lot of consideration. My husband said "no" (big surprise there), but my mom gushed about what a great idea it is. Sometimes I wish someone would just give me all the answers. Is that really too much to ask?
Just to catch up, here's the semi-short version of a bunch of long stories. I moved my booths at the market from a 3 booth spot in "suburbia" to a 2 booth corner in the middle of the market's version of Manhattan. So now I have less space, but I do have location location location! Yay!... I think. Truth be told, it's impossible to predict how things will go in our bipolar market. Saturday was great, Sunday was bad enough to bring forth tears of utter frustration. I made the decision to eliminate the paninis, which had initially been the primary cornerstone of my business, because I simply got tired of spending so much money to replenish inventory that would either perish or had to be given away every weekend. Besides, with at least two other vendors now selling paninis and generally copying my concept, I decided to focus on some other aspects of my menu instead.
The anxiety that has come as a result of making such a drastic change has been kicking my butt all week. The truth is that this is hard. I'm sure there are infinitely more difficult things to do, but all of my eggs are not in those baskets, so all of my energy is focused into my little market(s). There are so many factors affecting my business, including many that are simply out of my control like the crummy economy, some of the market's restrictions, the tourist-less summer season, the heat (and occasionally the rain), and the apparent inability for the market to successfully advertise its existence. Based on customer feedback, I'm confident that my food and sauces are good, but there's always room for improvement.
My husband and I frequently bicker about our finances and everything I should or shouldn't be doing to improve the situation. I don't want my business to sink into mediocrity, but if it were up to him, I wouldn't sell anything but meatballs (I'm exaggerating a bit, but he is incredibly minimalistic). He has a valid point, but the fact is that the food industry is very different from IT and electronics. The motivating factors for our customers are completely different and the simple fact is that my patrons demand variety. I just wish my patrons were consistent. Few things are as annoying as people who stop at my booth, see my jars of pasta sauce, try my samples, and then say, "I think what you're doing in this place is wonderful. I just love this market. Good luck!", and then walk away without buying anything! The odds are that my luck would drastically improve if people would just buy something. Anything. Instead we've become a prime hangout for market mall rats who love to wander up and down the aisles for the sake of exercise.
Now I'm doing what I always do... figuring out what else I can do / make / sell / promote in order to bring something different into the market. It must be something that no one else will copy, but is easy and inexpensive to prepare. I have something in mind, but I'm giving it a lot of consideration. My husband said "no" (big surprise there), but my mom gushed about what a great idea it is. Sometimes I wish someone would just give me all the answers. Is that really too much to ask?
Monday, June 27, 2011
God Is Good
It's difficult being a Christian in such a cynical world. I'm surrounded by people who thrive off of pretending not to care about anything and assuming that anyone who has faith or believes in God, or better yet, in Jesus Christ, is an idiot.
I find people who claim to have read the bible and still point out that God is a genocidal asshole (yes, someone did write this to me today, while implying that I'm a hypocrite) are ignorant and blind.
Here's the exact comment some people made to me on facebook after stating that people committing or threatening violent acts in the name of Christianity are the problem, not Christianity itself. This was in response to an article posted by a facebook / college acquaintance, DW.
TR: I'm assuming you've read at least some of the Old Testament, God was kind of a violence loving, genocidal asshole if you recall.
The problem with Christianity, and almost all religions in fact, is that there is always something within its readings that allow people to cherry pick what to follow and to justify ostracizing non-believers at best, committing acts of hate and violence at worst.
DW: Would you say the same thing if it was a Muslim or a Hindu making the threats or would you scrape it onto their religion?
Also, the incident at Passover, not to mention the flood and extermination of the Canaanites beg to agree that the Abrahamic God was a malevolent being guilty of innumerable crimes against humanity.
TR: And what of The Canaanites? The Fall of Jericho? The Amorites? These are just a few of the groups where God not only authorized the Hebrews to commit genocide, he demanded nothing less.
Are we still talking about the same God?
Ah yes, the rants and ramblings of ignorance in its full glory for the world to see. I used to dive right into these arguements to the extent that I'd get a headache and my blood pressure would practically go off the charts, but I've learned not to waste too much time on people like this. However, I do think it's important to speak up and say something whenever I see people attempting to insult God because even if the offender doesn't get it, there may be someone reading it who is teetering on the fine line between doubt and disbelief who may need to see someone take a stand for Christ to help reinforce their faith. By nature, people just want to fit in and they rarely like to go against the grain, especially when it comes to touchy feely subjects such as their spiritual beliefs. I don't care whether someone disapproves of my faith. If I lose a "friend", which has happened, then so be it. If I've lost customers, then God has provided new ones (not that I discuss my religion with customers, but I don't attempt to hide it, either).
Those of us who know Christ and have a relationship with God understand that the bible is not like any other novel that you can just open, read, and understand it. It's incredibly complex and could be impossible to fully digest and comprehend without the help of the holy spirit.
When I was younger, I attempted several times to read the bible. It was so confusing that I'd just get frustrated and give up. I never got past the first few chapters of Genesis and left it at that. Never once did it occur to me to pray for understanding and clarity before diving into the Word of God. Going to church used to be such a drag... more confusion, nothing made sense. Once again, it never occurred to me to go to God first.
Finally, after wandering for years in the "dessert", God got a firm grip on my heart and led me straight to him. It was as if He said enough is enough. No more gentle whispers and nudges, no more subtle signs, He just turned the volume UP, making it impossible for me to ignore Him. I was inexplicably compelled to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior, and since that day forward, it's like a blindfold was removed from my eyes. It was immediate and instantaneous - I "GOT" IT!! Today I understand what was never understood, it was like developing a new sense or discovering a new instinct. I just knew stuff. I also knew there was a lot of stuff that I didn't know, couldn't know, and wouldn't know until I needed to know. Confusing? Yeah, I know.
This experience has been an amazing blessing and an uncomfortable burden at once. There is nothing better than having a relationship with Christ and there is nothing in my human experience that could ever compare. However, this relationship comes with a price in this fallen world. There are inevitable conflicts that arise with friends and strangers that can be heart breaking at times. I hate seeing people offend God. I hate seeing people being so flippant towards Him. Each time I read, watch, or listen to something that is so contrary to the truth I know about my heavenly father, it fills me with indignation and anger and it breaks my heart. I see these actions and realize that they really don't know what they're doing. They have no idea how grave their actions are. They don't realize that they are being manipulated by an enemy who does nothing but devise a million schemes to destroy us every moment of every day. They don't realize that the decisions they make here on earth will affect them for eternity.
I'm not trying to be preachy nor do I want to force anyone into committing to something that they're not prepared for, but I do feel compelled to tell the truth. The truth is that God is good and He loves us so much that He sent his only begotten son to this cruel world to save us (John 3:16). Everything He does is done for our good, even when we don't understand it. Furthermore, don't be misled, there is only one way to the father, and that is through the son. You can be the nicest person on the planet, participating in hundreds of charitable events, and helping thousands of people, but if you don't know Jesus, you're not going to heaven. There is nothing any of us will ever do that will earn us a first class ticket to heaven because it is a gift that is given to us through God's grace. If you receive the invitation, but fail to RSVP, you don't get to show up to the party and crash it later on.
Jesus didn't come to this planet for the righteous, He came to save all the misfits. If He offers you the gift of salvation, accept it for crying out loud! You're not expected to be perfect, you're just expected to be faithful. That's really all there is to it, in a nutshell.
If your pig-headed human logic wants to tell you that it's pointless and that there's no such thing as eternity, consider the fact that you could be wrong. What if you're wrong?? What if it's true? What harm would it do to open your heart and ask to be filled with the Holy Spirit and forgiven of all your sins? Seriously. What harm could come of it? Oh, sure, your ego may have a little bruising and your pride may be shot, but you'll be just fine and the reward will be sooooo worth it.
I find people who claim to have read the bible and still point out that God is a genocidal asshole (yes, someone did write this to me today, while implying that I'm a hypocrite) are ignorant and blind.
Here's the exact comment some people made to me on facebook after stating that people committing or threatening violent acts in the name of Christianity are the problem, not Christianity itself. This was in response to an article posted by a facebook / college acquaintance, DW.
TR: I'm assuming you've read at least some of the Old Testament, God was kind of a violence loving, genocidal asshole if you recall.
The problem with Christianity, and almost all religions in fact, is that there is always something within its readings that allow people to cherry pick what to follow and to justify ostracizing non-believers at best, committing acts of hate and violence at worst.
DW: Would you say the same thing if it was a Muslim or a Hindu making the threats or would you scrape it onto their religion?
Also, the incident at Passover, not to mention the flood and extermination of the Canaanites beg to agree that the Abrahamic God was a malevolent being guilty of innumerable crimes against humanity.
TR: And what of The Canaanites? The Fall of Jericho? The Amorites? These are just a few of the groups where God not only authorized the Hebrews to commit genocide, he demanded nothing less.
Are we still talking about the same God?
Ah yes, the rants and ramblings of ignorance in its full glory for the world to see. I used to dive right into these arguements to the extent that I'd get a headache and my blood pressure would practically go off the charts, but I've learned not to waste too much time on people like this. However, I do think it's important to speak up and say something whenever I see people attempting to insult God because even if the offender doesn't get it, there may be someone reading it who is teetering on the fine line between doubt and disbelief who may need to see someone take a stand for Christ to help reinforce their faith. By nature, people just want to fit in and they rarely like to go against the grain, especially when it comes to touchy feely subjects such as their spiritual beliefs. I don't care whether someone disapproves of my faith. If I lose a "friend", which has happened, then so be it. If I've lost customers, then God has provided new ones (not that I discuss my religion with customers, but I don't attempt to hide it, either).
Those of us who know Christ and have a relationship with God understand that the bible is not like any other novel that you can just open, read, and understand it. It's incredibly complex and could be impossible to fully digest and comprehend without the help of the holy spirit.
When I was younger, I attempted several times to read the bible. It was so confusing that I'd just get frustrated and give up. I never got past the first few chapters of Genesis and left it at that. Never once did it occur to me to pray for understanding and clarity before diving into the Word of God. Going to church used to be such a drag... more confusion, nothing made sense. Once again, it never occurred to me to go to God first.
Finally, after wandering for years in the "dessert", God got a firm grip on my heart and led me straight to him. It was as if He said enough is enough. No more gentle whispers and nudges, no more subtle signs, He just turned the volume UP, making it impossible for me to ignore Him. I was inexplicably compelled to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior, and since that day forward, it's like a blindfold was removed from my eyes. It was immediate and instantaneous - I "GOT" IT!! Today I understand what was never understood, it was like developing a new sense or discovering a new instinct. I just knew stuff. I also knew there was a lot of stuff that I didn't know, couldn't know, and wouldn't know until I needed to know. Confusing? Yeah, I know.
This experience has been an amazing blessing and an uncomfortable burden at once. There is nothing better than having a relationship with Christ and there is nothing in my human experience that could ever compare. However, this relationship comes with a price in this fallen world. There are inevitable conflicts that arise with friends and strangers that can be heart breaking at times. I hate seeing people offend God. I hate seeing people being so flippant towards Him. Each time I read, watch, or listen to something that is so contrary to the truth I know about my heavenly father, it fills me with indignation and anger and it breaks my heart. I see these actions and realize that they really don't know what they're doing. They have no idea how grave their actions are. They don't realize that they are being manipulated by an enemy who does nothing but devise a million schemes to destroy us every moment of every day. They don't realize that the decisions they make here on earth will affect them for eternity.
I'm not trying to be preachy nor do I want to force anyone into committing to something that they're not prepared for, but I do feel compelled to tell the truth. The truth is that God is good and He loves us so much that He sent his only begotten son to this cruel world to save us (John 3:16). Everything He does is done for our good, even when we don't understand it. Furthermore, don't be misled, there is only one way to the father, and that is through the son. You can be the nicest person on the planet, participating in hundreds of charitable events, and helping thousands of people, but if you don't know Jesus, you're not going to heaven. There is nothing any of us will ever do that will earn us a first class ticket to heaven because it is a gift that is given to us through God's grace. If you receive the invitation, but fail to RSVP, you don't get to show up to the party and crash it later on.
Jesus didn't come to this planet for the righteous, He came to save all the misfits. If He offers you the gift of salvation, accept it for crying out loud! You're not expected to be perfect, you're just expected to be faithful. That's really all there is to it, in a nutshell.
If your pig-headed human logic wants to tell you that it's pointless and that there's no such thing as eternity, consider the fact that you could be wrong. What if you're wrong?? What if it's true? What harm would it do to open your heart and ask to be filled with the Holy Spirit and forgiven of all your sins? Seriously. What harm could come of it? Oh, sure, your ego may have a little bruising and your pride may be shot, but you'll be just fine and the reward will be sooooo worth it.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
It's Not Me, They Really Are Getting Dumber
Let's face it, if today's youth is the future of America, we're screwed. Sure, we were all kind of goofy when we were teens, but there was always a complete loser who served as an excellent example of what we didn't want to become, which sort of scared us back to our senses. Well, it worked on most of us, anyway. Now the goof to loser ratio is all off. Finding a goofy teen in a pile of losers is like finding a needle in a haystack.
Talking to most teens today will make you dumber by the minute. Seriously. Notice how your mind just numbs out after 3 minutes of their rambling about video games, reality shows about vapid stupid people, some viral YouTube video, the Hunger Force crew, who's hooking up with whom (why are they attempting to procreate for Pete's sake?!), how effed up drunk they got a couple days ago, or whatever other idiotic thing is rotting their minds nowadays. It's a disgrace to sound like such an old fart, but as someone who employs teens, I'm on the front lines of this battle. I'm the one who ultimately suffers the consequences of other people's shitty parenting and teaching abilities. The complete lack of responsibility, accountability, common sense, and self-pride in the quality of their work is astounding. I could add that the complete lack of respect is also astonishing, although I'll admit that for the most part, I've been pretty lucky in that department.
Worst of all, they're becoming stupid. No. There's no better word to describe it. For the most part, they're academically and socially stupid. I don't have children, so I typically avoid critiquing other people's parenting skills, but the fact is that the quality of modern parenting has become increasingly questionable at best. This being said, kids spend most of their day at school supposedly learning, so I must bring up the role of teachers in all of this. A teacher's job is not to raise your kids (although they do say that it takes a village to raise a child - or something like that), but it is their job to educate them and based on my interaction with these kids, I'm not impressed with the quality of their work at all.
School just let out earlier this week, so one of my assistants is looking for an additional job during the week days at the bequest of his mom. So he called me a couple days ago to request permission to list me as a reference and of course I accepted. Today at work I called his attention to numerous mistakes he had made and had him correct them, containing the urge to throw a shoe at him on several occasions. The laaaazzziiiinessss is unbearable, but that's another blog. When he sat down he told me everything was done, meanwhile I saw plenty that still needed to be completed and pointed it out. He responded, "Well, that's Andy's job". Oh hell no.
I called "Andy" over and told him what "Mandy" had said and asked him to please respond to Mandy (Andy and I had had this conversation several months before). So Andy happily told him, "Everything's your job and nobody's done until everything's done". I love that kid sometimes. Mandy replied, "Well, why do I always have to wash the dishes? Why can't Andy do it?" I had to explain that I didn't trust him to do what Andy does since I can't even trust him to do his main task correctly at closing time, which is to wash the dishes. Increased responsibility is typically accompanied by increased pay, but that has to be earned. Of course I proceeded to point out at least half a dozen problems in his station alone that should have been addressed during his shift. I love how he tried sneaking out of a specific project I had assigned to him by giving me the "Aw shucks, my mom just arrived so I have to go" face. Hold it right there super fly. Yo' mama can wait.
Then I asked Mandy, "When the people from that job you're applying for call me, is there something you want me to tell them or do you want me to tell them the truth?". He gave me a puzzled look so I repeated the question. Blank stare. "Because if you want me to tell the truth, I could say that you're punctual. Although, I should probably credit your step-dad for that, but still, you're typically punctual." That's when he interrupted me and asked what 'punctuality' means. My jaw dropped, but I told him that it means 'on time'. Keep in mind that this is a 16 year old high school sophomore we're talking about. Then I asked, "How can you not know the definition of 'punctuality'? What the hell are they teaching you kids nowadays?". He replied, "I don't know. I get like all A's without even trying". WHAAAAATTT????!!! What teacher would give this kid an "A"? He can't even figure out how to get the ice machine back on.... and he wants to be a computer programmer when he grows up. Just add water and push the button, genius! A chimp could figure this one out.
This is not my first encounter with teenage stupidity and laziness, but boy did this take me by surprise. How is it possible for an "A" student to make it to their junior year in high school without knowing the definition of a 4th grade vocabulary word? Let's not even get into the spelling. Oh, if you only saw the grocery list he made for me last week. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry due to his deplorable spelling. Here's a small sampling for your amusement:
I know there are many top notch teachers out there, but for every excellent teacher, there's 9 mediocre ones. If you're a teacher, don't let these kids slide by, you're not doing them, society, or yourselves any favors. If you're passing students with high scores when only a miracle should have helped them pass, then you're the biggest part of the problem. Yeah, they are lazy and obnoxious, but keep pushing them. Don't settle for mediocrity. Push them, discipline them, and be firm. Fail them if you must, but for crying out loud, no more free passes! Just remember, these are the people that are supposed to take care of you when you're an old fart in a retirement home. Scary thought, I know.
Talking to most teens today will make you dumber by the minute. Seriously. Notice how your mind just numbs out after 3 minutes of their rambling about video games, reality shows about vapid stupid people, some viral YouTube video, the Hunger Force crew, who's hooking up with whom (why are they attempting to procreate for Pete's sake?!), how effed up drunk they got a couple days ago, or whatever other idiotic thing is rotting their minds nowadays. It's a disgrace to sound like such an old fart, but as someone who employs teens, I'm on the front lines of this battle. I'm the one who ultimately suffers the consequences of other people's shitty parenting and teaching abilities. The complete lack of responsibility, accountability, common sense, and self-pride in the quality of their work is astounding. I could add that the complete lack of respect is also astonishing, although I'll admit that for the most part, I've been pretty lucky in that department.
Worst of all, they're becoming stupid. No. There's no better word to describe it. For the most part, they're academically and socially stupid. I don't have children, so I typically avoid critiquing other people's parenting skills, but the fact is that the quality of modern parenting has become increasingly questionable at best. This being said, kids spend most of their day at school supposedly learning, so I must bring up the role of teachers in all of this. A teacher's job is not to raise your kids (although they do say that it takes a village to raise a child - or something like that), but it is their job to educate them and based on my interaction with these kids, I'm not impressed with the quality of their work at all.
School just let out earlier this week, so one of my assistants is looking for an additional job during the week days at the bequest of his mom. So he called me a couple days ago to request permission to list me as a reference and of course I accepted. Today at work I called his attention to numerous mistakes he had made and had him correct them, containing the urge to throw a shoe at him on several occasions. The laaaazzziiiinessss is unbearable, but that's another blog. When he sat down he told me everything was done, meanwhile I saw plenty that still needed to be completed and pointed it out. He responded, "Well, that's Andy's job". Oh hell no.
I called "Andy" over and told him what "Mandy" had said and asked him to please respond to Mandy (Andy and I had had this conversation several months before). So Andy happily told him, "Everything's your job and nobody's done until everything's done". I love that kid sometimes. Mandy replied, "Well, why do I always have to wash the dishes? Why can't Andy do it?" I had to explain that I didn't trust him to do what Andy does since I can't even trust him to do his main task correctly at closing time, which is to wash the dishes. Increased responsibility is typically accompanied by increased pay, but that has to be earned. Of course I proceeded to point out at least half a dozen problems in his station alone that should have been addressed during his shift. I love how he tried sneaking out of a specific project I had assigned to him by giving me the "Aw shucks, my mom just arrived so I have to go" face. Hold it right there super fly. Yo' mama can wait.
Then I asked Mandy, "When the people from that job you're applying for call me, is there something you want me to tell them or do you want me to tell them the truth?". He gave me a puzzled look so I repeated the question. Blank stare. "Because if you want me to tell the truth, I could say that you're punctual. Although, I should probably credit your step-dad for that, but still, you're typically punctual." That's when he interrupted me and asked what 'punctuality' means. My jaw dropped, but I told him that it means 'on time'. Keep in mind that this is a 16 year old high school sophomore we're talking about. Then I asked, "How can you not know the definition of 'punctuality'? What the hell are they teaching you kids nowadays?". He replied, "I don't know. I get like all A's without even trying". WHAAAAATTT????!!! What teacher would give this kid an "A"? He can't even figure out how to get the ice machine back on.... and he wants to be a computer programmer when he grows up. Just add water and push the button, genius! A chimp could figure this one out.
This is not my first encounter with teenage stupidity and laziness, but boy did this take me by surprise. How is it possible for an "A" student to make it to their junior year in high school without knowing the definition of a 4th grade vocabulary word? Let's not even get into the spelling. Oh, if you only saw the grocery list he made for me last week. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry due to his deplorable spelling. Here's a small sampling for your amusement:
- paper towals
- nautella
- gava jelly
- swiss chese
- chedder
- mozzeralla
- marinated pepers
I know there are many top notch teachers out there, but for every excellent teacher, there's 9 mediocre ones. If you're a teacher, don't let these kids slide by, you're not doing them, society, or yourselves any favors. If you're passing students with high scores when only a miracle should have helped them pass, then you're the biggest part of the problem. Yeah, they are lazy and obnoxious, but keep pushing them. Don't settle for mediocrity. Push them, discipline them, and be firm. Fail them if you must, but for crying out loud, no more free passes! Just remember, these are the people that are supposed to take care of you when you're an old fart in a retirement home. Scary thought, I know.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Managing Expectations
Occasionally I hear catch phrases that make me wonder who, just who the heck dreams this stuff up? One that gets to me is "managing expectations". If there's one thing I know it's that you can't manage anybody's expectations. It's impossible.
You may wonder how I've become such an authority on the subject and all I can say is that it's impossible to manage something you know little or nothing about. For instance, the fact that my husband has been pissed at me for the past couple days despite me being completely oblivious to the reason is a perfect example. At first he insisted it had nothing to do with me, he just had a lot on his mind. By this afternoon, at least he finally admitted, amongst many other things, several things I had said and / or done bothered himn. If I recall, he said that his cup was filling up drop by drop and it had finally spilled over. Needless to say, he's refusing to tell me what I actually did to piss him off. The only thing he cared to mention was that it was nothing that I specifically said or did, it was just me being me. If this is the case, how on earth am I supposed to manage that expectation? I still don't know what the hell happened! Perhaps I live in fantasy island, but up until yesterday I thought things were hunky dory considering all the challenges we typically deal with.
There's also a woman at the market who is incredibly pissed at me for reasons unknown to me until Sunday afternoon. It wasn't until this weekend that I noticed her odd behavior. According to my assistant, evidently it's my fault that she didn't get interviewed because I "stole her thunder". I had stopped by her booth to deliver her lunch when some girl with a camera man stopped by to greet her. I patiently waited to get paid (it turned out she had already paid when she placed the order, but I was unaware) and once they had stopped talking, I mentioned I had a food booth and the girl said she wanted to stop by to check it out. Now it's my fault that she wasn't interviewed, but I was. Can somebody say drama??
The bottom line is that it's impossible to manage people's expectations when you don't know what they are. It boils down to the fact that people frequently neglect to speak up and express their needs, hence expecting others to keep at it until they guess correctly. I know some of the things that irritate my husband, but I can never keep up with all his pet peeves and annoyances. I try my best to be personable and offer good food and service, but some people are difficult to please.
Therefore, I have concluded that "managing expectations" is a bunch of hooey. If you want your expectations to be met, then let them be known. Don't pussy foot around things of importance and bring problems and concerns up as they occur. Don't wait until your glass spills over before bringing problems to people's attention. Most importantly, don't have a passive aggressive "I plan to pretend to ignore you to get your attention until you realize I'm mad at you for some reason" attitude. That kind of behavior should be left behind in high school.
You may wonder how I've become such an authority on the subject and all I can say is that it's impossible to manage something you know little or nothing about. For instance, the fact that my husband has been pissed at me for the past couple days despite me being completely oblivious to the reason is a perfect example. At first he insisted it had nothing to do with me, he just had a lot on his mind. By this afternoon, at least he finally admitted, amongst many other things, several things I had said and / or done bothered himn. If I recall, he said that his cup was filling up drop by drop and it had finally spilled over. Needless to say, he's refusing to tell me what I actually did to piss him off. The only thing he cared to mention was that it was nothing that I specifically said or did, it was just me being me. If this is the case, how on earth am I supposed to manage that expectation? I still don't know what the hell happened! Perhaps I live in fantasy island, but up until yesterday I thought things were hunky dory considering all the challenges we typically deal with.
There's also a woman at the market who is incredibly pissed at me for reasons unknown to me until Sunday afternoon. It wasn't until this weekend that I noticed her odd behavior. According to my assistant, evidently it's my fault that she didn't get interviewed because I "stole her thunder". I had stopped by her booth to deliver her lunch when some girl with a camera man stopped by to greet her. I patiently waited to get paid (it turned out she had already paid when she placed the order, but I was unaware) and once they had stopped talking, I mentioned I had a food booth and the girl said she wanted to stop by to check it out. Now it's my fault that she wasn't interviewed, but I was. Can somebody say drama??
The bottom line is that it's impossible to manage people's expectations when you don't know what they are. It boils down to the fact that people frequently neglect to speak up and express their needs, hence expecting others to keep at it until they guess correctly. I know some of the things that irritate my husband, but I can never keep up with all his pet peeves and annoyances. I try my best to be personable and offer good food and service, but some people are difficult to please.
Therefore, I have concluded that "managing expectations" is a bunch of hooey. If you want your expectations to be met, then let them be known. Don't pussy foot around things of importance and bring problems and concerns up as they occur. Don't wait until your glass spills over before bringing problems to people's attention. Most importantly, don't have a passive aggressive "I plan to pretend to ignore you to get your attention until you realize I'm mad at you for some reason" attitude. That kind of behavior should be left behind in high school.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I Am What I Am
I've struggled with this and hate to admit it, but I think I'm an asshole. Have you ever met one of those super cheerful bubbly Christians? Well, I know plenty of 'em and comparing apples to apples... let's just say I'm a tart granny smith to their sweet red delicious variety. Sure I can come off as being very friendly and it's typically at least 95% authentic. Don't judge me, I work in hospitality and sometimes I have to be nice even when I'm not in the mood.
May God forgive me, but I can be so mean at times. Let's start with the road rage. Is there any one in South Florida I haven't flicked off or yelled at from the safety of my car with the windows rolled up? Mind you, I do this while listening to my favorite Christian music channel on my satellite radio. How often have I cut people off or refused to let someone cut in front of me? In my defense, though, you can't tell me you haven't let someone cut in front of you only for them to slam their brakes at the yellow light. Since when does yellow mean stop? It means go, go, GO FASTER you moron! But I digress...
Oh, and my poor customers. Some of you just make it so easy to mess with. Of all people, my customers should at least be untouchable by my jerkiness (I don't care if it's not a word, just go with it). But what am I supposed to do when I offer someone a sample and they respond, "I cook.". Oh c'mon!! Am I not supposed to respond with something snarky even if only the little voices inside my head hear it?
Should I even mention my profanity? I can't help myself, it's a curse. I try so hard to watch my language, but all it takes is listening to 2 minutes of any given Obama speech and it's only a matter of seconds before a boisterous, "WTF is he talking about??!", comes flying out of my mouth. And let me clarify, I don't abbreviate when I'm talking out loud.
So. What do I plan to do about this? Well, last night I began by allowing someone to pass in front of me. Also, I didn't flip out even when some chick decided to leave her cart full of her extreme couponing gerber jars in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store. She even copped an attitude with me after I asked her oblivious husband to excuse me and patiently waited before beginning to move the cart to the side myself so I could pass before she snatched it and moved it herself (boy was she pissed, I heard her tearing her hubby a new one at the cash register).
Overall, the plan consists of just making an effort to be nice and courteous even towards fellow assholes. This is going to be tough, especially since some of the meanest things are the thoughts that go through my head that few are ever privy to, but I know. I knooow.
May God forgive me, but I can be so mean at times. Let's start with the road rage. Is there any one in South Florida I haven't flicked off or yelled at from the safety of my car with the windows rolled up? Mind you, I do this while listening to my favorite Christian music channel on my satellite radio. How often have I cut people off or refused to let someone cut in front of me? In my defense, though, you can't tell me you haven't let someone cut in front of you only for them to slam their brakes at the yellow light. Since when does yellow mean stop? It means go, go, GO FASTER you moron! But I digress...
Oh, and my poor customers. Some of you just make it so easy to mess with. Of all people, my customers should at least be untouchable by my jerkiness (I don't care if it's not a word, just go with it). But what am I supposed to do when I offer someone a sample and they respond, "I cook.". Oh c'mon!! Am I not supposed to respond with something snarky even if only the little voices inside my head hear it?
Should I even mention my profanity? I can't help myself, it's a curse. I try so hard to watch my language, but all it takes is listening to 2 minutes of any given Obama speech and it's only a matter of seconds before a boisterous, "WTF is he talking about??!", comes flying out of my mouth. And let me clarify, I don't abbreviate when I'm talking out loud.
So. What do I plan to do about this? Well, last night I began by allowing someone to pass in front of me. Also, I didn't flip out even when some chick decided to leave her cart full of her extreme couponing gerber jars in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store. She even copped an attitude with me after I asked her oblivious husband to excuse me and patiently waited before beginning to move the cart to the side myself so I could pass before she snatched it and moved it herself (boy was she pissed, I heard her tearing her hubby a new one at the cash register).
Overall, the plan consists of just making an effort to be nice and courteous even towards fellow assholes. This is going to be tough, especially since some of the meanest things are the thoughts that go through my head that few are ever privy to, but I know. I knooow.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Food Snobs
Are you a food snob? Then let me be the first to tell you that you SUCK. There are few things more irritating than a know-it-all food snob, especially when their attention is focused on MY food.
Be advised that there is a distinction between foodies and food snobs. Foodies are food enthusiasts. They enjoy trying new things and have a tendency to be the "fashionistas" of the culinary world, drifting with the ever flowing current of food trends. At times, foodies can be a bit annoying, too, but at least they have good intentions. If goat cheese is "in", they'll probably expect it to be incorporated into every menu item. Food snobs, on the other hand, are married to brand names and believe that the only way to get something of quality is by paying a lot of money for it. Food snobs enjoy pointing out every flaw they think your food has and have no qualms about explaining to you - the chef / professional - how it should be done.
I typically ignore food snobs because let's face it, I have a short fuse and could see myself telling one to take his opinion and shove it. However, a couple weeks ago, a food snob snuck up on me and I didn't even see him coming. He was disguised as a return customer happily coming back along with his partner to buy some more of my pasta sauces. The man loooooves my pasta sauces (or so he said), so clearly he has good taste, right? Anybody??
Everything was going well. He purchased two sauces and then decided to order a couple paninis. The partner ordered one of my most popular ones that I call The Gaucho, which has roast beef, my homemade chimichurri sauce, provolone cheese, and peperonata (marinated Italian peppers), which is one the antipastos I prepare, all grilled on ciabatta bread. The food snob ordered The Milanese, which has turkey breast, peperonata, provolone, and pesto aioli (fancy word for pesto mixed with mayonnaise) on ciabatta bread. I got the Gaucho onto the grill and starting working on the Milanese, all the while the food snob was watching me like a hawk despite me having invited him to have a seat several times.
I popped the Milanese on the grill and move on to some crepes for another customer when my assistant tells me he overheard the food snob complaining about his panini. Mind you, he still hasn't gotten it yet. Apparently, he had an issue with the brand of turkey I was using. According to his comments, it's a terrible brand, but he's just going to deal with it because he had already ordered it. Of course, at this point I already knew that there's going to be trouble. It began with a complaint about the panini being too dry, nevermind the pesto aioli and all the juices from the marinated peppers.
They finished up and I thought that I was going to get away without having to hear any more complaints when he approaches me to have the turkey discussion. Dammit! He goes on and on about how my brand is awful and that I really should consider using Boar's Head instead. He continues by criticizing my "roasted peppers" and tells me that the white vinegar I use in them is too overpowering and blah blah blah (I tuned out after he called my beloved antipasto of marinated peppers 'roasted peppers'). He wraps up the endless critique with, "Your sauces are delicious, but I'm sorry to tell you, I'm not impressed with your paninis. You should really work on that." Why couldn't that duck that loves to fly into the market and crap in vendor's booths appear at that moment and use this man's head for target practice? Where's that damn duck when you need it?!
It took every ounce of self-control to look at him with a smile and thank him for his feedback... and then I proceeded to calmly explain to him how wrong he was. What? Did you really think I was going take that laying down? I defended the brand I usedand explained how the packaging is beneficial for the open market environment. The fact that we only open on the weekends makes it challenging to hold food for extended periods, so the small portion packaging is essential for keeping the ingredients fresh. Furthermore, Boar's Head turkey breast, although I agree is a superior brand, costs about $10 per pound. How would he suggest that I maintain my paninis at $6.25 if I'm using a $10/lb turkey breast that would have to be discarded each weekend? Hmmmm? (He actually agreed with me on this part - points for me!). Finally, as for the peppers, it's not white vinegar, it's red wine vinegar and the reason it tastes like that is because it's a traditional antipasto - it's supposed to taste like that. Did you know that food snob? Well, did you?! Oh, it doesn't come in a jar with a familiar label? Of course it doesn't, fool, any foodie would know that.
Being the customer service oriented chef that I am, I apologized for the inconvenience and invited him back in the hopes that he'd give me an opportunity to make it up to him. *Sigh* What can I say? Despite having imagined the duck plus a dozen pigeons shitting on him the way he was shitting on me, I'm still in the hospitality business. When all is said and done, sucking up a little bit goes a long way in this industry. But don't mess with me again... beware food snobs, we chefs have ways to mess with you (all hygenic, I promise) and you'll be none the wiser. And that's all I have to say about that.
Be advised that there is a distinction between foodies and food snobs. Foodies are food enthusiasts. They enjoy trying new things and have a tendency to be the "fashionistas" of the culinary world, drifting with the ever flowing current of food trends. At times, foodies can be a bit annoying, too, but at least they have good intentions. If goat cheese is "in", they'll probably expect it to be incorporated into every menu item. Food snobs, on the other hand, are married to brand names and believe that the only way to get something of quality is by paying a lot of money for it. Food snobs enjoy pointing out every flaw they think your food has and have no qualms about explaining to you - the chef / professional - how it should be done.
I typically ignore food snobs because let's face it, I have a short fuse and could see myself telling one to take his opinion and shove it. However, a couple weeks ago, a food snob snuck up on me and I didn't even see him coming. He was disguised as a return customer happily coming back along with his partner to buy some more of my pasta sauces. The man loooooves my pasta sauces (or so he said), so clearly he has good taste, right? Anybody??
Everything was going well. He purchased two sauces and then decided to order a couple paninis. The partner ordered one of my most popular ones that I call The Gaucho, which has roast beef, my homemade chimichurri sauce, provolone cheese, and peperonata (marinated Italian peppers), which is one the antipastos I prepare, all grilled on ciabatta bread. The food snob ordered The Milanese, which has turkey breast, peperonata, provolone, and pesto aioli (fancy word for pesto mixed with mayonnaise) on ciabatta bread. I got the Gaucho onto the grill and starting working on the Milanese, all the while the food snob was watching me like a hawk despite me having invited him to have a seat several times.
I popped the Milanese on the grill and move on to some crepes for another customer when my assistant tells me he overheard the food snob complaining about his panini. Mind you, he still hasn't gotten it yet. Apparently, he had an issue with the brand of turkey I was using. According to his comments, it's a terrible brand, but he's just going to deal with it because he had already ordered it. Of course, at this point I already knew that there's going to be trouble. It began with a complaint about the panini being too dry, nevermind the pesto aioli and all the juices from the marinated peppers.
They finished up and I thought that I was going to get away without having to hear any more complaints when he approaches me to have the turkey discussion. Dammit! He goes on and on about how my brand is awful and that I really should consider using Boar's Head instead. He continues by criticizing my "roasted peppers" and tells me that the white vinegar I use in them is too overpowering and blah blah blah (I tuned out after he called my beloved antipasto of marinated peppers 'roasted peppers'). He wraps up the endless critique with, "Your sauces are delicious, but I'm sorry to tell you, I'm not impressed with your paninis. You should really work on that." Why couldn't that duck that loves to fly into the market and crap in vendor's booths appear at that moment and use this man's head for target practice? Where's that damn duck when you need it?!
It took every ounce of self-control to look at him with a smile and thank him for his feedback... and then I proceeded to calmly explain to him how wrong he was. What? Did you really think I was going take that laying down? I defended the brand I usedand explained how the packaging is beneficial for the open market environment. The fact that we only open on the weekends makes it challenging to hold food for extended periods, so the small portion packaging is essential for keeping the ingredients fresh. Furthermore, Boar's Head turkey breast, although I agree is a superior brand, costs about $10 per pound. How would he suggest that I maintain my paninis at $6.25 if I'm using a $10/lb turkey breast that would have to be discarded each weekend? Hmmmm? (He actually agreed with me on this part - points for me!). Finally, as for the peppers, it's not white vinegar, it's red wine vinegar and the reason it tastes like that is because it's a traditional antipasto - it's supposed to taste like that. Did you know that food snob? Well, did you?! Oh, it doesn't come in a jar with a familiar label? Of course it doesn't, fool, any foodie would know that.
Being the customer service oriented chef that I am, I apologized for the inconvenience and invited him back in the hopes that he'd give me an opportunity to make it up to him. *Sigh* What can I say? Despite having imagined the duck plus a dozen pigeons shitting on him the way he was shitting on me, I'm still in the hospitality business. When all is said and done, sucking up a little bit goes a long way in this industry. But don't mess with me again... beware food snobs, we chefs have ways to mess with you (all hygenic, I promise) and you'll be none the wiser. And that's all I have to say about that.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Conflicted - Part II
I figured it would only be fair to offer a follow up, so here's the cheese. The dirty deed was done as kindly as I could possibly muster. The call was made before the weekend so that a trip wasn't made all the way to the market simply to receive some bad news and be sent home. I was trying to be considerate since I HATE it when a boss makes you go to work on a Monday morning just to give you that news. I've always wondered why they don't just do it on a Friday afternoon if they already know what they're going to do?
Anyway, I thanked her for her services and explained that the numbers simply weren't adding up. In addition, I decided to close that booth for the weekend and consolidate everything into one booth for the meantime. The last thing I expected was to see her at the market on Sunday strolling up our aisle pretending to be engrossed reading her Nook attempting to ignore me. Of course I greeted her as she walked past me, since I'm a grown-up. She pretended to be somewhat surprised that she had found herself in front of our booth, gave me a half-assed greeting while fidgeting with her gadget, and couldn't even finish her sentence before moving on. Clearly she just wanted me to know that she was in the market since there are plenty of alternate routes she could have taken and there's nobody else in my aisle to greet (with the exception of the two extreme corners, we're alone on our section of the aisle).
Afterwards, CP told me that she went by the other booth and bought a slushy from him, all the while sneering at the fact that we had increased the price by $0.50 (as she already knew we planned to do) and ignoring his greeting. Then she informed him that four other vendors had offered her a job in the market at which point he just said, "Good for you!". What else did she expect him to say?
One thing I've learned the hard way throughout my professional career is not to burn bridges. It's a small world out there and you never know who knows who, and this is a lesson she will soon learn, as well. Overall, a lot of good has come through this experience. First of all, it reinforced the understanding that friendship and business can not co-exist. There's time for friendship and time for business, but they must be maintained separately. Secondly, trust my instinct. If something feels "off", it's probably because it is. Finally, don't be afraid or ashamed to protect my own interests. I've worked hard to build this business, and although it may not be a Fortune 500 company (yet), I've poured my heart and soul into it. If someone or something is not working in the best interest of my company, they have got to go. No regrets.
Anyway, I thanked her for her services and explained that the numbers simply weren't adding up. In addition, I decided to close that booth for the weekend and consolidate everything into one booth for the meantime. The last thing I expected was to see her at the market on Sunday strolling up our aisle pretending to be engrossed reading her Nook attempting to ignore me. Of course I greeted her as she walked past me, since I'm a grown-up. She pretended to be somewhat surprised that she had found herself in front of our booth, gave me a half-assed greeting while fidgeting with her gadget, and couldn't even finish her sentence before moving on. Clearly she just wanted me to know that she was in the market since there are plenty of alternate routes she could have taken and there's nobody else in my aisle to greet (with the exception of the two extreme corners, we're alone on our section of the aisle).
Afterwards, CP told me that she went by the other booth and bought a slushy from him, all the while sneering at the fact that we had increased the price by $0.50 (as she already knew we planned to do) and ignoring his greeting. Then she informed him that four other vendors had offered her a job in the market at which point he just said, "Good for you!". What else did she expect him to say?
One thing I've learned the hard way throughout my professional career is not to burn bridges. It's a small world out there and you never know who knows who, and this is a lesson she will soon learn, as well. Overall, a lot of good has come through this experience. First of all, it reinforced the understanding that friendship and business can not co-exist. There's time for friendship and time for business, but they must be maintained separately. Secondly, trust my instinct. If something feels "off", it's probably because it is. Finally, don't be afraid or ashamed to protect my own interests. I've worked hard to build this business, and although it may not be a Fortune 500 company (yet), I've poured my heart and soul into it. If someone or something is not working in the best interest of my company, they have got to go. No regrets.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Conflicted
I've always wanted to be my own boss, or in charge of whatever I'm doing at the very least. Now the phrase "be careful what you wish for because you might just get it", is coming back to haunt me. Running a business certainly has its pros and cons, but I have found that the biggest pro is also the biggest con, and that's dealing with human resources.
The need to hire people is a good thing, it means the business is growing. However, managing a group of teenagers is the equivalent of trying to herd cats at times. They're fearless, cocky, arrogant, and they already know it all, so what's there to learn? Although they've gone through most of high school, they still haven't gone through the school of hard knocks taught by Prof. Life Experience.
I'm conflicted because when I acquired the most recent annex to my business, I also acquired a new employee. I was excited about it at first because I figured what could be a better deal than to acquire someone who has been with the business since its inception that already knew the operation inside and out, was already familiar with the market and the vendors, and was someone who had been my customer and "work" friend for the past 6 months. Little did I know the drama that was about to ensue.
I'll admit, I've always struggled to keep my temper in check. It doesn't take much to set me off and get me to run my mouth, which my new employee soon found out. Unlike her previous boss, I have not been shy about pointing out the things about her behavior, attitude, and administrative tasks that need to be corrected. Of course, it began nicely at first by explaining what my expectations were, what our current policies are, and what needed to be done. It's a very simple job and for the most part, nothing changed much from what she had been doing before, so I didn't think it would be an issue.
Well, evidently, not texting or playing with your cell phone, greeting and engaging with customers, smiling, offering samples, keeping the 8 x 8 ft space tidy, staying inside the booth, using the radio to call for breaks or extra supplies, and taking inventory is a bit much. Since leaving her in charge of the main booth, sales have dropped to less than 30% of what the previous owners were generating. In three short weekends I have already busted her:
So the time has come to do something I'd hoped I would never have to do, and that's to fire someone. I know enough about her personal situation to feel sorry for her, but I can't continue to employ someone who isn't producing anything for my business. As a business owner, it's my responsibility to make sure everyone gets paid, but who guarantees that I'll get paid? Nobody... and I've come to the realization that nobody really cares, either. I've already found a replacement, but I really don't want to deal with this awkward confrontation. I suppose that each time I'm feeling a little conflicted, I should remember how screwed I am. Yep, that oughta put things in perspective.
The need to hire people is a good thing, it means the business is growing. However, managing a group of teenagers is the equivalent of trying to herd cats at times. They're fearless, cocky, arrogant, and they already know it all, so what's there to learn? Although they've gone through most of high school, they still haven't gone through the school of hard knocks taught by Prof. Life Experience.
I'm conflicted because when I acquired the most recent annex to my business, I also acquired a new employee. I was excited about it at first because I figured what could be a better deal than to acquire someone who has been with the business since its inception that already knew the operation inside and out, was already familiar with the market and the vendors, and was someone who had been my customer and "work" friend for the past 6 months. Little did I know the drama that was about to ensue.
I'll admit, I've always struggled to keep my temper in check. It doesn't take much to set me off and get me to run my mouth, which my new employee soon found out. Unlike her previous boss, I have not been shy about pointing out the things about her behavior, attitude, and administrative tasks that need to be corrected. Of course, it began nicely at first by explaining what my expectations were, what our current policies are, and what needed to be done. It's a very simple job and for the most part, nothing changed much from what she had been doing before, so I didn't think it would be an issue.
Well, evidently, not texting or playing with your cell phone, greeting and engaging with customers, smiling, offering samples, keeping the 8 x 8 ft space tidy, staying inside the booth, using the radio to call for breaks or extra supplies, and taking inventory is a bit much. Since leaving her in charge of the main booth, sales have dropped to less than 30% of what the previous owners were generating. In three short weekends I have already busted her:
- Engrossed with her cell phone texting and ignoring customers on several occasions even after having prohibited texting while on the job.
- Leaving her booth to supposedly get more change or supplies despite having a radio. Which part of STAY IN YOUR BOOTH didn't you get the first 15 times? Even when she didn't work for us, she would wander from her booth to ours at which time CP and I would always tell her to go back to her booth.
- Insisting that it didn't matter if she left the booth because nobody was there anyway. How would she know if she's not there?
- Stereotyping customers by telling me after I had instructed her to greet someone and offer a sample, "I know the type. They're not going to buy anything". She's a mind reader now? Well, she was right. They weren't going to buy anything - from HER.
- Telling my mother, who is a sales expert and was teaching her some customer service and sales techniques, that she didn't like sales and was only there because she needed the job. That kind of sucks when your job is to sell stuff.
- Pretending to have done inventory when it hasn't been done. We did random audits and caught it. I guess it's kind of hard to miss when she's reporting there are 68 ice pops in the freezer when I know I only purchased 40 of them and it's been passed over from one day to the next to the next.
- Ignoring my direct instructions to do something. How many times do I need to tell you to clean the same thing? I had asked for the same thing to be done for 3 consecutive work days and it still hadn't been done. Of course, the final straw was when the owners of a local business that I want to affiliate myself with dropped by unannounced to check out the location. I had to do the best I could to strategically stand in front of the things I didn't want them to see in fear that they'd think I'm a slob. It was humiliating.
- Feeling entitled to come to me exasperated and upset questioning the reason CP and I made some decisions we chose to make that had nothing to do with her and arguing with me about it with dramatic fanfare in front of my other employee, customers, and whoever else may be passing by to hear it. That really pissed me off.
- Deliberately showing up late to a meeting I had scheduled a week before with coffee in hand when she's never been late before.
So the time has come to do something I'd hoped I would never have to do, and that's to fire someone. I know enough about her personal situation to feel sorry for her, but I can't continue to employ someone who isn't producing anything for my business. As a business owner, it's my responsibility to make sure everyone gets paid, but who guarantees that I'll get paid? Nobody... and I've come to the realization that nobody really cares, either. I've already found a replacement, but I really don't want to deal with this awkward confrontation. I suppose that each time I'm feeling a little conflicted, I should remember how screwed I am. Yep, that oughta put things in perspective.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Marital Bliss
I am a happily married woman and I love love LOVE my husband to bits and pieces, but even so, CP does things that instantly makes my blood pressure rise, occasionally embarrasses me, and at times makes me wonder if my mother was right. Scratch the last part, my mother is never right (except for when she is, but this must never ever be admitted in public).
So what are some of these things my husband does to torture me? Oh, where to begin? Where to begin?
1. He uses me as a human spell checker. I get interrupted from doing something of questionable importance on a daily basis with a, "Baba... how do you spell [insert word you mastered by the fourth grade]?". Never mind that his face is glued to a screen using a program that most likely has spell check. Of course saying it once is never sufficient, it must be repeated at least twice only to hear him say, "Oh! I thought so! It just looked funny when I wrote it". Really??!
2. He's a crappy tipper, yet he loves to repeatedly visit the same restaurants. I've explained that servers have elephant memories and we remember good and bad tippers (I know this from personal experience), but he refuses to understand that. One of these days he's going to get a hocker on his cheeseburger.
3. He interrupts me and tells me "NO" before I finish my thought. Ooooohhh.... that really makes my blood boil.
4. He farts in the elevator despite our agreement that there will be no farting in the elevator. He'll rip one and then warn me to walk quickly if I'm down wind. He'll tear one up and then blame it on the cats or claim there's an imaginary duck or a monkey that just ran through the room. But he gets furious if I burp. I don't get it either.
5. He grabs my boob while making honking sounds.
6. There is a 3 U-turn minimum anytime he's driving, even when he's using the GPS.
7. He holds long term grudges. He's still mad at my mom for something she did four years ago.
8. He'd rather take off his shoe and pick up something he dropped with his toes instead of bending over and grabbing it.
9. He's typically lost in thought, but the moment I'm focused reading or writing something, suddenly he becomes Mr. Chatterbox.
10. His toe nails look like claws and he tortures me by chasing me with his foot.
11. He rarely calls anyone by their real name because he can't remember them. Instead, he makes up a really embarrassing nickname based on some unfortunate physical feature the person may have, their race, ethnic background, religion, or something they're wearing. The worst part is that he won't know who you're talking about unless you, too, refer to those people by that nickname he has assigned them. As a result, I have a regular customer called "mustache" (she's a woman), a Hindu colleague he calls "huumanahuumana", a friend of mine he calls "black boots", and a Muslim friend he calls "alibaba", the president of our condo board "the crook", a friend who used to be a waitress at his favorite Pizza Hut is the "crazy waitress", his father's girlfriend Sorangel is called "salami" (he can't pronounce her name, so he changed it), and a cousin of mine who always has a better story than yours is called "the topper", just to name a few.
12. He inhales his food, refuses to speak or hold a conversation when there's food on the table, and insists that no one at the table can order the same thing off the menu that he's ordering or he'll change his order.
13. He makes up his own words, uses them regularly in conversations, and when corrected, he responds, "Well, you knew what I meant, right?". His favorite made up word is "embarcate". Let's use it in a sentence: We were supposed to meet at Flannigan's, but you embarcated me.
14. He'll wear the same shirt and pants for days if I don't intervene. If he drops something on his shirt, he'll say, "Aw damn. This shirt still had 2 more days!".
15. He'll let the answering machine BEEP with a new message until it annoys me enough to listen to it.
16. He won't let me throw the socks with holes away. I have to make said socks mysteriously disappear.
17. He practically has a seizure anytime you touch him anywhere in his mid-section.
18. He'll ask me to go to the bedroom to watch TV with him. When I oblige, he promptly falls asleep, begins snoring incredibly loud forcing me to raise the volume. Then he wakes up to tell me the TV volume is loud. When I finally turn off the TV so we can all sleep peacefully (amidst deafening snoring and bed hogging cats), he wakes up, wanders to the couch and falls asleep in the living room. Go figure.
19. He throws all his trash onto the back seat of the car.
20. He leaves his dirty dishes piled up around the house.
21. He wanders unless closely supervised and doesn't answer his cell phone when you're desperately looking for him.
22. He takes his laptop, cell phone, and gadgets of choice with him each time he goes to the rest room to take care of business. He'll be in there over an hour chatting on the phone, texting, and doing computer repairs. When he's finally done, he leaves all his toys plugged into the bathroom outlet cluttering the bathroom sink.
Aaaahhhh CP, CP, how I love thee. I could write a book about my quirky husband, so I won't add anything else to this list... for now. Surely he has a list as long, if not longer than mine, but let's make sure we're clear - he's wrong and none of it's true. After reading this list of my husband's loveliest qualities, you may ask if there's such a thing as marital bliss. But OF COURSE! I love this hairy, waddling, gassy, googly eyed, unibrowed, disoriented, food inhaling, holey sock wearing reluctant Cuban more than anyone on the planet and I wouldn't trade him for the world. :D
P.S. - Love you baba.
So what are some of these things my husband does to torture me? Oh, where to begin? Where to begin?
1. He uses me as a human spell checker. I get interrupted from doing something of questionable importance on a daily basis with a, "Baba... how do you spell [insert word you mastered by the fourth grade]
2. He's a crappy tipper, yet he loves to repeatedly visit the same restaurants. I've explained that servers have elephant memories and we remember good and bad tippers (I know this from personal experience), but he refuses to understand that. One of these days he's going to get a hocker on his cheeseburger.
3. He interrupts me and tells me "NO" before I finish my thought. Ooooohhh.... that really makes my blood boil.
4. He farts in the elevator despite our agreement that there will be no farting in the elevator. He'll rip one and then warn me to walk quickly if I'm down wind. He'll tear one up and then blame it on the cats or claim there's an imaginary duck or a monkey that just ran through the room. But he gets furious if I burp. I don't get it either.
5. He grabs my boob while making honking sounds.
6. There is a 3 U-turn minimum anytime he's driving, even when he's using the GPS.
7. He holds long term grudges. He's still mad at my mom for something she did four years ago.
8. He'd rather take off his shoe and pick up something he dropped with his toes instead of bending over and grabbing it.
9. He's typically lost in thought, but the moment I'm focused reading or writing something, suddenly he becomes Mr. Chatterbox.
10. His toe nails look like claws and he tortures me by chasing me with his foot.
11. He rarely calls anyone by their real name because he can't remember them. Instead, he makes up a really embarrassing nickname based on some unfortunate physical feature the person may have, their race, ethnic background, religion, or something they're wearing. The worst part is that he won't know who you're talking about unless you, too, refer to those people by that nickname he has assigned them. As a result, I have a regular customer called "mustache" (she's a woman), a Hindu colleague he calls "huumanahuumana", a friend of mine he calls "black boots", and a Muslim friend he calls "alibaba", the president of our condo board "the crook", a friend who used to be a waitress at his favorite Pizza Hut is the "crazy waitress", his father's girlfriend Sorangel is called "salami" (he can't pronounce her name, so he changed it), and a cousin of mine who always has a better story than yours is called "the topper", just to name a few.
12. He inhales his food, refuses to speak or hold a conversation when there's food on the table, and insists that no one at the table can order the same thing off the menu that he's ordering or he'll change his order.
13. He makes up his own words, uses them regularly in conversations, and when corrected, he responds, "Well, you knew what I meant, right?". His favorite made up word is "embarcate". Let's use it in a sentence: We were supposed to meet at Flannigan's, but you embarcated me.
14. He'll wear the same shirt and pants for days if I don't intervene. If he drops something on his shirt, he'll say, "Aw damn. This shirt still had 2 more days!".
15. He'll let the answering machine BEEP with a new message until it annoys me enough to listen to it.
16. He won't let me throw the socks with holes away. I have to make said socks mysteriously disappear.
17. He practically has a seizure anytime you touch him anywhere in his mid-section.
18. He'll ask me to go to the bedroom to watch TV with him. When I oblige, he promptly falls asleep, begins snoring incredibly loud forcing me to raise the volume. Then he wakes up to tell me the TV volume is loud. When I finally turn off the TV so we can all sleep peacefully (amidst deafening snoring and bed hogging cats), he wakes up, wanders to the couch and falls asleep in the living room. Go figure.
19. He throws all his trash onto the back seat of the car.
20. He leaves his dirty dishes piled up around the house.
21. He wanders unless closely supervised and doesn't answer his cell phone when you're desperately looking for him.
22. He takes his laptop, cell phone, and gadgets of choice with him each time he goes to the rest room to take care of business. He'll be in there over an hour chatting on the phone, texting, and doing computer repairs. When he's finally done, he leaves all his toys plugged into the bathroom outlet cluttering the bathroom sink.
Aaaahhhh CP, CP, how I love thee. I could write a book about my quirky husband, so I won't add anything else to this list... for now. Surely he has a list as long, if not longer than mine, but let's make sure we're clear - he's wrong and none of it's true. After reading this list of my husband's loveliest qualities, you may ask if there's such a thing as marital bliss. But OF COURSE! I love this hairy, waddling, gassy, googly eyed, unibrowed, disoriented, food inhaling, holey sock wearing reluctant Cuban more than anyone on the planet and I wouldn't trade him for the world. :D
P.S. - Love you baba.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Gratitude in the Hard Times
"Working to get out of debt? Prayer really works. You've got a Father who loves you like crazy, and he's rich." — Dave Ramsey
This quote stirred my soul this morning causing hot tears of anger and frustration to run down my cheeks. These past few weeks have been incredibly challenging for my business. A combination of snow birds heading back home for the season, spring break, and the Passover and Easter holidays created a void of foot traffic that we desperately need at the market. Adding to my stress is the fact that we just recently bought another vendor's ice cream business a couple weeks ago, which has done everything but lived up to our expectations thus far. So now we're rich in assets and cash poor, yet gas and food cost continues to rise, supplies need to be restocked, employees need to be paid, and of course, household bills are falling behind.
Apparently, this wasn't enough to keep me occupied, so the market's manager approved two new vendors who each focus on selling items that I already provide in the two ice cream booths we just purchased that aren't making any money yet. I'm not sure what's worse: knowing that at least one of them was doomed to failure before she even opened her doors for business or knowing that I fully intend to ask the manager to grant me her booth as soon as she does close her business, since I know it's inevitable. Don't judge me, it's not personal, it's business.
While all of this is happening, I can't help but wonder what is God's plan in all of this. I have faith that He has a plan, that it's good, that He's faithful and won't abandon me, and that He wouldn't burden me with something I couldn't handle, but I'm still scared. I want to be fearless, trusting, faithful, and optimistic, but sometimes it's so hard. I find myself dwelling in the should of, could of, would of's, and kicking myself for all the things I didn't do to prepare myself for the hard times when I had the opportunity. Now that I'm making a sincere effort to do everything the "right" way, there's not much to work with.
All this having been said, there's no better time to praise the Lord for all my blessings and be grateful for everything we have and even for some of the things we don't. I'm hopeful that things will improve and we'll eventually get to enjoy the fruits of our labor, but in the meantime I just needed to be reminded that I have a Father who loves me like crazy, He's rich, and He would love nothing more than to share His wealth with the children He loves. I love my Dad. :)
This quote stirred my soul this morning causing hot tears of anger and frustration to run down my cheeks. These past few weeks have been incredibly challenging for my business. A combination of snow birds heading back home for the season, spring break, and the Passover and Easter holidays created a void of foot traffic that we desperately need at the market. Adding to my stress is the fact that we just recently bought another vendor's ice cream business a couple weeks ago, which has done everything but lived up to our expectations thus far. So now we're rich in assets and cash poor, yet gas and food cost continues to rise, supplies need to be restocked, employees need to be paid, and of course, household bills are falling behind.
Apparently, this wasn't enough to keep me occupied, so the market's manager approved two new vendors who each focus on selling items that I already provide in the two ice cream booths we just purchased that aren't making any money yet. I'm not sure what's worse: knowing that at least one of them was doomed to failure before she even opened her doors for business or knowing that I fully intend to ask the manager to grant me her booth as soon as she does close her business, since I know it's inevitable. Don't judge me, it's not personal, it's business.
While all of this is happening, I can't help but wonder what is God's plan in all of this. I have faith that He has a plan, that it's good, that He's faithful and won't abandon me, and that He wouldn't burden me with something I couldn't handle, but I'm still scared. I want to be fearless, trusting, faithful, and optimistic, but sometimes it's so hard. I find myself dwelling in the should of, could of, would of's, and kicking myself for all the things I didn't do to prepare myself for the hard times when I had the opportunity. Now that I'm making a sincere effort to do everything the "right" way, there's not much to work with.
All this having been said, there's no better time to praise the Lord for all my blessings and be grateful for everything we have and even for some of the things we don't. I'm hopeful that things will improve and we'll eventually get to enjoy the fruits of our labor, but in the meantime I just needed to be reminded that I have a Father who loves me like crazy, He's rich, and He would love nothing more than to share His wealth with the children He loves. I love my Dad. :)
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Pet Peeves? I has them.
I could write a blog dedicated to all my pet peeves, but today I'm only going to discuss one, primarily because it's the one that pissed me off today. So, who's the evil offender you ask? SEMANTICS. I haaAAaAaaAAAte when people play semantics.
One of the many things that I've learned to tolerate at my farmers market is that the administration has requested that we refrain from selling the same items that other vendors sell with the exception of produce. After all, it's a farmers market. We're supposed to have lots of produce, although I'll be the first to admit that we don't. Hence, the irony of being called a farmers market, but let's not get into semantics.
Anyhoo... at the risk of sounding like one of my colleagues who is constantly whining that everyone is doing what she's already doing despite the "rule", it appears that everyone is doing what I'm doing despite the "rule". Ok, so not everyone is doing what I'm doing, but still. There's enough people who are to irk me. I make paninis, so the guy who's supposed to sell bread and pastries is now selling paninis (Do I sell bread and pastries? Noooooo). I sell crepes, so two weeks after I started my crepe station, a new vendor entered the market with a crepe station (mine are waaaaay better). I sell popsicles and purposely have two spots selling ice cream and popsicles to avoid having another competitor, yet today, a new vendor was setting up to sell popsicles.
Oh wait. Allow me to correct myself. According to my husband they weren't popsicles, they are frozen fruit on a stick. We sell ice cream. I reminded him that popsicles are not limited to dairy. He insisted that ice cream is not the same as frozen fruit on a stick, but that they're selling something just like the coconut and strawberry popsicles we have in the freezer. So wouldn't that be a flippin' popsicle??!
You can call it fruit on a stick all day, but it's a frozen fruit, sugar, and water mixture that was poured into a popsicle mold with a stick shoved into it... and that's the definition of a freakin' popsicle!! So as CP and I had this heated debate as we stood in line at McDonald's (if he rolled his big googly eyeballs at me one more time, I was going to poke them out with my finger), I actually had to pull the Chef card on him and tell him that I'm a chef and I know an effin popsicle when I see one and that I'm sure the market's manager is smart enough to know the difference, too, so cut the semantics!
Just so you know, I gave up profanity and playing my stupid games on Facebook for lent. I have RUINED my profanity promise throughout this entire week due to annoying people and my pet peeves, so I guess I may as well go play some stupid games on Facebook now.
One of the many things that I've learned to tolerate at my farmers market is that the administration has requested that we refrain from selling the same items that other vendors sell with the exception of produce. After all, it's a farmers market. We're supposed to have lots of produce, although I'll be the first to admit that we don't. Hence, the irony of being called a farmers market, but let's not get into semantics.
Anyhoo... at the risk of sounding like one of my colleagues who is constantly whining that everyone is doing what she's already doing despite the "rule", it appears that everyone is doing what I'm doing despite the "rule". Ok, so not everyone is doing what I'm doing, but still. There's enough people who are to irk me. I make paninis, so the guy who's supposed to sell bread and pastries is now selling paninis (Do I sell bread and pastries? Noooooo). I sell crepes, so two weeks after I started my crepe station, a new vendor entered the market with a crepe station (mine are waaaaay better). I sell popsicles and purposely have two spots selling ice cream and popsicles to avoid having another competitor, yet today, a new vendor was setting up to sell popsicles.
Oh wait. Allow me to correct myself. According to my husband they weren't popsicles, they are frozen fruit on a stick. We sell ice cream. I reminded him that popsicles are not limited to dairy. He insisted that ice cream is not the same as frozen fruit on a stick, but that they're selling something just like the coconut and strawberry popsicles we have in the freezer. So wouldn't that be a flippin' popsicle??!
You can call it fruit on a stick all day, but it's a frozen fruit, sugar, and water mixture that was poured into a popsicle mold with a stick shoved into it... and that's the definition of a freakin' popsicle!! So as CP and I had this heated debate as we stood in line at McDonald's (if he rolled his big googly eyeballs at me one more time, I was going to poke them out with my finger), I actually had to pull the Chef card on him and tell him that I'm a chef and I know an effin popsicle when I see one and that I'm sure the market's manager is smart enough to know the difference, too, so cut the semantics!
Just so you know, I gave up profanity and playing my stupid games on Facebook for lent. I have RUINED my profanity promise throughout this entire week due to annoying people and my pet peeves, so I guess I may as well go play some stupid games on Facebook now.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Hi. My name is...
I'd like to think that everyone is entitled to have a little space to write about whatever meanders through our minds. Well, there's a lot of meandering thoughts in my mind that are begging to be released. I'm not really sure whether I'm writing this to entertain my readers (if I ever get any) or myself, but either way, hopefully we'll all enjoy the ride.
I guess it's time to go around the circle and introduce ourselves to the group. I'm a chef and I do some independent catering, but lately my main gig has been running a few booths at a local farmers market. As a result, regular exposure to interesting characters comes with the territory. My arch enemies are the French Canadians, but we'll get into that some other time. It's only a matter of time before another one pisses me off and I'm ranting about it. I'm married to a big hairy Cuban-American (I had to add the "-American" because he gets pissy when I tell him he's Cuban) that we'll refer to as CP, and we have two fat gray cats, Sasha and Chloe.
I love my kitties. CP likes to pretend they annoy him, but he loves them, too. I picked up Sasha off the streets long before I met my hubby, so he's learned to tolerate him, but now they're best buds. However, he particularly resents Chloe because I adopted her from a shelter while he was in Cuba during a 17-day trip from hell he took with his father and grandfather. Some of his last words before he left on the trip were, "No new animals.", so of course I allowed a friend to convince me that Chloe would make the perfect addition to the family. It's been over a year and half and CP's still a little miffed, but surely he'll get over it by the time I sneak a dog into the house.
You ought to know that I am a struggling Christian. Allow me to clarify that... I'm not struggling with my faith, I'm crystal clear in that department. Instead, I struggle with my thoughts and my mouth. Boy does my mouth get me in trouble. One of my guilty pleasures includes politics. It's disgusting, I know, but I can't help myself. I try not to watch or pay attention, but I can't help it so I inevitably get engrossed in stupid debates. It's like trying to ignore the car accident on the shoulder of the highway - not possible. Naturally, since the Lord has a brilliant way of teaching me patience and has a unique sense of humor to boot, I'm a conservative surrounded by liberals. I'm convinced that one day they'll all see the light and acknowledge that I'm right about everything, but until then, I'll love them despite their flawed political understanding. Just kiiiiddddiiinng. Ok. Fine. I'm not.
I thank you in advance for reading and bearing with me as I wing it.
I guess it's time to go around the circle and introduce ourselves to the group. I'm a chef and I do some independent catering, but lately my main gig has been running a few booths at a local farmers market. As a result, regular exposure to interesting characters comes with the territory. My arch enemies are the French Canadians, but we'll get into that some other time. It's only a matter of time before another one pisses me off and I'm ranting about it. I'm married to a big hairy Cuban-American (I had to add the "-American" because he gets pissy when I tell him he's Cuban) that we'll refer to as CP, and we have two fat gray cats, Sasha and Chloe.
I love my kitties. CP likes to pretend they annoy him, but he loves them, too. I picked up Sasha off the streets long before I met my hubby, so he's learned to tolerate him, but now they're best buds. However, he particularly resents Chloe because I adopted her from a shelter while he was in Cuba during a 17-day trip from hell he took with his father and grandfather. Some of his last words before he left on the trip were, "No new animals.", so of course I allowed a friend to convince me that Chloe would make the perfect addition to the family. It's been over a year and half and CP's still a little miffed, but surely he'll get over it by the time I sneak a dog into the house.
You ought to know that I am a struggling Christian. Allow me to clarify that... I'm not struggling with my faith, I'm crystal clear in that department. Instead, I struggle with my thoughts and my mouth. Boy does my mouth get me in trouble. One of my guilty pleasures includes politics. It's disgusting, I know, but I can't help myself. I try not to watch or pay attention, but I can't help it so I inevitably get engrossed in stupid debates. It's like trying to ignore the car accident on the shoulder of the highway - not possible. Naturally, since the Lord has a brilliant way of teaching me patience and has a unique sense of humor to boot, I'm a conservative surrounded by liberals. I'm convinced that one day they'll all see the light and acknowledge that I'm right about everything, but until then, I'll love them despite their flawed political understanding. Just kiiiiddddiiinng. Ok. Fine. I'm not.
I thank you in advance for reading and bearing with me as I wing it.
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