My name is Alisa Starr, and I make Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards. I sell them from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. I also have them for sale in 35 different stores. And recently I made some undies too. Which say “fuck you and your fucking feelings” in typewriter, on the ass.
In my last post, I whined about being tired. And busy. But mostly just tired. I’m still tired. My cards are selling like hotcakes all over town. A few of my stores have already sold out of Christmas Cards. As I said before, I’m having a hard time keeping up with demand. A few of my stores haven’t gotten Christmas Cards. Some of them may not get Christmas Cards.
I’m still behind, but I’ve decided not to stress out about it anymore. I’m trying to deal with what’s real. And what’s real is that I can only work 14 hours a day. And there’s some shit I may not be able to do. Even though I want to. And so, with this new stress-free attitude, I’m trying to float my way through the next few weeks.
It helps that I’m selling more in bars, and I feel like I’ll have a good handle on my finances by January. A good start for the new year! My snazzy new phone has helped me sell lots of cards, thanks to the Square: a handy little device that allows me to slide and process credit cards where ever I am. Square deposits the money into my account the next business day. But all things are not instant, and so the money I make tonight at the bar, will probably land in my account on Thursday. Which is actually kind of awesome, because it allows me to plan for the future.
Since I started Snarky Cards, I’ve dealt almost entirely in cash. For the first year and a half, I didn’t have a bank account. I had a jar I had to fill up with money, in order to pay my bills. In the last year, I’ve had a bank account, but it’s perpetually overdrawn. Squares small deposits have pulled me out of the red, and I have to say I feel a great deal of pride when I see money flowing into my account every day. Even if it’s just twenty or thirty dollars a day.
Eventually, I think I’ll be able to use this little time delay in deposits to create something called savings. Which, I’ve never had before, in my entire adult life. Before I started Snarky Cards I didn’t make that much money. And I was almost completely positive that if I had money I should spend it on something to fill whatever holes I found in my heart. I binged on food and shopping for most of my twenties. And now, in my thirties, I find myself with a weird sense of calm.
Sometimes it’s hard to be me, despite the fact that I’m loved by strangers for my brutal wit, those who have to withstand it every day don’t always want to. In short, I can be too much. And sometimes I think that it must be very hard to love me. But despite that, I’m loved. And while the last few months have been emotionally painful for me, I’ve carved a new sense of purpose out of my pain. I realized, at some point, that I know what I am going to do with my life. I’ve always known what I was going to do with my life. Since I was six, I wanted to be a famous writer, revered for my beauty and admired for my brazen sexual charisma.
I mean, I didn’t know all those big words back then, but I had a general sketch of who I wanted to be. or who I already was. My parents, and teachers, and friends all scoffed at my plans. But nobody’s scoffing now. And Snarky Cards is working. And I feel this deep hum, underneath everything I do, like I’ve got a generator in my gut, and it’s running on the firm belief that I am doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. And the more I listen to it, the more I act on instinct. And the more I use my intuition, the better my life gets. It’s been really scary and painful me, stripping away other people’s doubts, and my own common sense, and following who I am, into this new life.
But in the end, I realized that other people don’t have this sense of purpose. Or most of them don’t. That’s why philosophers (and assholes) sit around wondering about the existential dilemma. It’s the sureness that’s been calming me. And realizing that it is unique, and precious, rather than a burden has calmed me even more. Maybe this is what it’s like to get married. Maybe that’s why people get married, because they want to believe they know how their lives will look for the next 50 years. They are committing to a plan. I have a sketch of what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. If it all fell apart, if it looked like I wasn’t going to be able to accomplish everything, I’d be devastated. Maybe that’s why divorce is hard.
I am shit at commitment. Which is why my relationship goals are simply: boyfriend by 40. Which gives me 9 more years to get over my desperate fear of intimacy.
But I am commited to my life-plan. It’s kinda simple.
2. Become famous. -Which I’ve kinda done!
2. Create a company that makes other Snarky Shit (like underwear!) where people like to work.
3. Use the money that I make at Snarky Shit to help people.
44. Create a publishing company so I can publish some books I want to write, as well as my brothers books, and my other friends books.
5. Make a television show.
6. Sleep with some of the famous guys on my wish-list. I’m talking about you, Michael Shanks, and Ian Tracey. You sexy fucking Canadians, you.
That’s it. That’s the whole plan. I’ve got 30 or 40 years to do all that stuff. There will be other cool stuff that will probably happen because I do all that stuff, but mostly, that’s it. Once I realized how short my list was, I was so relieved! I know that a lot of that shit looks hard, and it probably will be. But I’m pretty sure I can figure it all out. I’ve gotten this far. I can finish up the list before I bite it. And if I only get most of the way done, I’m OK with that. Someone else will proly finish it up for me. And if they don’t, it won’t matter. I’ll have done my best. And I’ll be a house-cat by then, so I won’t give a shit if there’s a Snarky TV show or whatever.
I think that this renewed sense of purpose is part of the reason why I’m not freaking the fuck out as much as I was. I know that those goals sound lofty. And I probably sound like an asshole, who is full of herself. “Oh, I’m already famous, so it won’t be hard for me to make a tv show.” But that’s OK. I don’t mind being an asshole. And it takes an inflated sense of ego in order to sell your shit to strangers every night. It’s, like, a requirement. So, I need that fucking ego. I might as well use it to fuel my world domination plans.
Anyway, all of that shit has been rattling around in my head lately. I thought I’d let you know that things are looking up. And my undies are going to be in Willamette Weekly’s Gift Guide this year! Which should be out any day now. If you would like to purchase some mooners for yerself, you can find them online, or at these fine retailers!
- Dirty Hands Make and Grow
- Radish Underground
- Buffalo Exchange, Hawthorne
- Space monkey Coffee
- Red Light
And if you decide to stay in and order your Snarky Cards and Undies, I am offering a discount to reward your laziness! Just go to http://snarkycards.etsy.com and type in coupon code: sexysanta and you’ll receive 20% off your Snarky Purchase!
Merry Christmas to you, and Merry Christmas to me, and thanks, Internets, for listening to my meanderings.