Quest for fundage

If a gal wants to take forty or so or more of her spicy lady friends on some kind of grand adventure, as I do, then said lady needs to sleuth the fund-age to make it happen. Everyone’s pleased when someone else covers the gas money, so I’ve been looking between the cushions and shaking the sheets to find ways to resource the life(dot)next retreat.

No promises here, but I am a master of the bargain- and I’m on the verge of securing at least one possible (incredible) venue for free. I don’t want to jinx it so let’s leave it at that. But since sweat equity is massively appealing to me, I wanted to throw out the possibility of raising sponsorship dollars by offering to auction off goods or services that you gals already have or do on a regular basis. For example, since I live on campus I often find discarded furniture that just needs a little love. So I refinish it and sell it off. (If you had any doubts before as to whether or not I am completely nuts, you shouldn’t now.)

So far, those of you who have expressed interest and availability for November are:

Masseuses
Doulas
Artists
Editors
Ceramicists
Teachers
Scientists
Librarians
Web & print designers
Fashion designers
Sociologists
Photographers
Planners of the highest order

Who among you might be willing to help me plan an auction or other development pre-event so that we can offset the cost of the retreat for all us working stiffs?

Welcome to what’s next

Seems like I always consider my accomplishments and talents as if they are a million years behind me.  I can’t count on them because they may be expired.  Through a variety of former lives, I cobbled together the whole person you now see blogging before you.  But that ‘whole’ might as well be suspended in jars of preservative in a specimen collection in some museum basement as far as my daily life is concerned-  it’s too much of a hassle to go down all those stairs and dust off those lids.  Is that ringing true for any of you?

As in we have all this glory behind us and all this hazy possibility in front of us, but the present is stuck, obstructed from view, or just suspiciously undecided.

I’m tired of daydreaming by myself. I’m tired of cataloging my past with no particular thought toward how it might be applied to a brand new enterprise. I’ve written literature curriculum, resumes, business plans, policy, textbooks, master’s theses, newspaper columns, poetry, and other text products that ran a broad spectrum from profitable to audience-less. But most of those things I did in a silo…  What I want now is a forum for all of us to get together in one place and start manufacturing the bricks of an empire.

So, all you damn fine ladies: consider this a call to action. Let me know what you think in the comments.