The Curtain and Pen

Nebraska Copywriting Services for Small Business

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Mixing Business with Pleasure

I’ve been having a blast blogging these past few months. It’s really been exciting, taking what I’m thinking about and slapping it onto the internet for the world to read. Now, one of the main reasons I started this blog is to wake up the creative juices that have been laying dormant in my brain for so many months. I think I’ve woken them up enough to start working a little more diligently on the other reason I started this blog:

Biddy-biddy-bidness.

That’s right, on top of being a blogger, I am a business owner, and I think I’ve had enough start-up time to start being able to focus a little harder on getting this business really rolling. This means a few things. It means I need to start sticking to my To Do Lists a little better, as they’re going to be getting longer. It also means that I need to start including prospective clients in our fun little blogging adventure. I say “our adventure” simply because this blog would be worthless if there weren’t people out there who wanted to read it.

So, rather than springing a, ‘Blah blah blah, I’m talking about blogging and business and social media’ post on you, I’m going to find a fun way to include everyone. I’m, of course, always open to ideas, but I think I’ve got a fun one here that I’d like to try.

One of the big questions a business-person is sure to ask themselves is, “What does this crazy lady have to offer? What can she do to benefit me?”

The answer, of course, would be, “Lots of things.” Specifically, however, and what I’d like to focus on in this particular instance, is Ghost-blogging.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this term, it’s basically when I stealthily take over the writing responsibilities of a company’s blog, making them and their business look totally awesome by giving them all the credit for it. (Money to buy chocolate and cloth diapers is credit enough for me. Go ahead, call me a sell-out, because I’m totally cool with it.)

What I’m going to start doing is cranking out some imaginary business blogs. I’ll use these posts to display my writing abilities as well as entertain you guys, my smart and attractive, already faithful readers.

This is where you all come in: I need business suggestions. I don’t care what business it is—okay let me rephrase that—I don’t care what non-pornographic, for the most part socially-appropriate business it is. It can be a made-up profession, it can be your dad’s profession, whatever. You guys start giving me suggestions and I’ll get to work. I may be contacting you for research, however, as that is a huge part of the Ghost-blogging process. Thanks in advance, friends!

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My Soapy Valentine

WARNING Since I ranted and raved on Valentine’s Day, I’ve decided to write a more appropriate post today. Sorry if I make you puke.

As a scatterbrained, creative-type, I tend to have a lot ofmoments in which I have to make myself stop and just think about what’s going on around me. You may not be able to tell that my gears are grinding away, but if you catch me with a zoned-out look on my face and my mouth open just enough to stick a piece of chocolate in there…I’m probably having a moment.
I had one of those on Sunday as I watched Paul make soap. That’s right, soap. Uncolored, naturally scented lye soap. He weighed and measured oils, heated them on the stove, mixed lye with water, and mixed it all together. As I stood there (trying to wrangle a crazily squirmy baby) watching him methodically stir the soap, I was overcome with the feeling of being in total awe of my husband.
I’ll never forget sitting in the passenger seat of my friend’s car, (back when I’d just met Paul and had no idea that I’d ever actually be with him, let alone get married to him) wondering what it would be like to be with this guy who does what he wants and goes about everything ever-so-logically.
Isn’t it weird to think about our significant others before they met us? Even if you’re currently single, think back to previous partners. Isn’t that just weird? Back when Paul used to make soap regularly, he had no idea who I was. He had a life full of people and routines that I knew nothing about. This person is one of the absolute most important people in my life; how could we possibly have not known about each other?
As I watched Paul make this soap, I felt like I was stepping back into a time I never knew; like I was watching a documentary. This is a little thing from his past that makes him who he is; that makes him the man I am so completely in love with. I’m so excited to discover more of these little tidbits of Paul in the future. It’s kind of like starting winter and finding a twenty in the pocket of a coat you haven’t worn in years.

I’m looking forward to reaching into all of your coat pockets, Paul. And I’m not being dirty. I love you.

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In Defense of the Day

Crappentine’s Day. Valen-vomit. A Day in Celebration of the Corporate and Commercial Whores.

Believe me, I’ve heard them all and am still unphased by every one of them. I prefer, in fact, hearing “Happy Crappentine’s Day” to hearing someone blather on (and before I offend anyone too much, I’ve had beef with the Greeting Card Company complaint for years now, so this blog has been a long time comin’) about the commercial birth of the holiday, created by Greeting Card companies in order to make money.

Waah, waah, waah. No, seriously, somebody call the waaaaaaaambulance.

How many of you out there have a diamond ring on your finger, or hope to be presented with one in the future? Do you think that when the De Beers company discovered they could make diamonds more accessible to the public, they didn’t advertise the crap out of the “diamond engagement ring?” Of course they did! Why else would the greater public make the decision to start spending horrific amounts of money on something that was previously tremendously horrific? Because that’s what society decided was valuable, that’s why. How did society come to this decision, you might ask? Oh, yeah, marketing and advertising.
Why do we choose TGI Friday’s over Ruby Tuesday? They’re both mediocre, Americana-clad, family dining establishments.

Wait…Ruby Tuesday has the salad bar… Let’s replace Ruby Tuesday with Applebee’s, in this case.

I can tell you why I (pretending I had previously eaten at neither) would choose one over the other; it’s because I liked the commercial better. Or their gift cards looked more vibrant, or they put off a more family-friendly feel. All advertising, friends, sorry.

Then there’s the very similar argument that celebrating Valentine’s day somehow makes the actual Love less heartfelt and more shallow and materialistic. Okay, that’s fine. So…when a person goes and spends HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS of dollars on fireworks to celebrate the Fourth of July, are you going to go up to them and say, “Hey, Happy Commercialization of your Patriotism Day?” I don’t think so; in fact, I think you might get punched in the face with a beer can or a bowl of potato salad. That’s because the exact same argument can be used here. “Why do you have to have a special day set aside to celebrate Patriotism? Why can’t you express your patriotism every day without have to buy things for it?”

Or, better yet, “Why do you have to set aside one special day to celebrate the baby Jesus?” Or, “Why do you have to have one special day to celebrate someone’s birth? Why can’t you express how much you appreciate their existence every day in a more heartfelt way?”

Did the Greeting Card companies invent my birthday? I don’t think so.

Granted, I think we could all work harder on expressing our appreciation for things in our daily lives. That’s for sure. You should probably tell your loved ones that you love them more. You should probably be show your patriotism by being more active in you daily civic duties. But does that mean that people should be judged for picking one day to celebrate these things? Hmm…no, I think not.

Now, there is another group of people who hate Valentine’s Day, and I’ve got less of a problem with them; but not much less.

I know that sometimes it sucks to be single. I also know that I’ve probably been pigeon-holed into the category of “smug married,” but, trust me, I remember what it’s like to be single. Especially on Valentine’s Day. And, yeah, I was sad to not have a ‘significant other’ to spend it with.

And then I wised up and realized I did have a significant other. More than one, in fact. I had best friends and family who loved the crap out of me. So, what did my significant others and I do? Slapped on some makeup, got appropriately tipsy, and sang Karaoke till our lungs felt like giving out.

And we had a blast. Why? Because we all knew that even though we didn’t have romantic partners at the time, we DEFINITELY were not alone.

Are you unimpressed with my example? Howsabouts a real-life Facebook status from a good friend of mine:

Valentines Day. Not a fan. But I did have fun making cards with the kids and Adria (her daughter) made one just for me. 🙂

Hey, it’s okay not to like Valentine’s Day. I personally can’t stand the Fourth of July. Some people love it, though, and I’m going to do my best not to be a crabby pants about it. But really, though, I hate firecrackers. They make me want to punch people. I don’t, though, and that’s what’s important.

So why don’t, instead of bashing the holiday today, let’s stop and think about how lucky we are to have Love of any kind in our lives. I promise it will make you feel at the very least an eency-bit better, and even an eency-bit is better than nothing.

Also, you’ll probably avoid getting punched in the face with a bag of red and pink M&M’s.

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A Tube of Lipstick and Some Hot Dog Jell-O

It’s time I take a step back into the 1950’s.

Now, don’t worry, I’m not going to start putting on lipstick before Paul walks in the door or making Jell-O with hot dogs in it; I just need to light a fire under my housework-lazy butt.

Back in the 50’s, houses were clean (obviously, I’m playing towards a big generalized stereotype here, but just roll with me, okay?) and dinner was on the home-stretch by the time the Bacon-winner got home. Why? Because most of the time, there was a wife home all day making sure things got taken care of. I think I’m pretty lucky to be one of those home-all-day wives, and I think I need to start showing a little more gratitude for that fact.

I’m not knocking anybody’s choice of profession here; I think stay-at-home parents and working parents are on an equal plane. Both types are concerned about their children’s welfare and are addressing the issue in the best ways they can. What I’m saying is that lately I haven’t been working very diligently at the housework part of my particular career choice.

Isn’t it so much easier to sit and judge Go Diego Go (“Everybody scream! LOUDER!”) than to pick up the living room while Charlie dances to the music? Well, sure it is, but it isn’t a very grateful way to go about it. If I’m truly grateful for the walls around me, then shouldn’t I be taking better care of them? Okay, so I’ve got no plans to start actually scrubbing the walls, but I can definitely start being more active in caring for my home.

What’s with all this gratitude mumbo-jumbo, you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you. I’m launching a vendetta against discontent.

I’ve always been a pretty positive person, but I think I could be much more optimistically effective if I focus my efforts. This is part of it. If we can all keep in mind how much awesomeness we already have in our lives, we can start being happier with where we are.

In this particular instance, I had to take a good, hard look at what I was unsatisfied with, and think, “How can I make this so it makes me happy?”

Well, duh. Clean it, maybe?

So it’s time to throw on a mu mu and a string of pearls. The yellow rubber gloves are on and I’m going to do my best to keep this up, because guess what happens when the house is clean and supper is cooking by the time Paul gets home? The time that would have been spent washing dishes or picking up the living room is now used as time to relax with my family.

That’s a pretty big deal.

Friends, I’m asking you to join me! Instead of worrying about what we don’t have, let’s learn to find happiness in what we’ve got, and if we don’t like what we’ve got, let’s find ways to change them into what we want. If that means going all 50’s-style on your own bootay, then so be it.

I hope I haven’t annoyed the crap out of everyone with my goody-two-shoes hippie-juju. Remember, I warned you; I’m irritatingly optimistic.