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.

1. Sell a million Snarky Cards. -34,181 down, and 965,819 to go!

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.

Super fucking hot, right? Can't you just see him throwing you up against a wall?

Sigh. His cheekbones are dreamy, but the lines on his face really make me swoon.

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!

• Rock’n'Rose
  

  Radish Underground, a comfy place to buy from local designers, who create exquisite clothes, jewelry and Snarky Cards! Across from the pita pit, SW 10th & Alder

• Mottokitty
• Dirty Hands Make and Grow
• Radish Underground
• Buffalo Exchange, Hawthorne
• Space monkey Coffee
• Red Light

And if you’re in Seattle you can find them at the delicious and decadent Twilight Art Collective! If you’re in Salem, you can find them at the sexy and outrageous Cherry Redd!

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.

Love,

Alisa

See what I mean? You're already titmitized

For those of you who don’t know, my name is Alisa Starr. I make Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards. I sell them in bars, from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. Which are huge. They will crack you the fuck up. Not my boobs, they will tittmitize you. The Snarky Cards will crack you the fuck up.

Lately it seems like the highs and lows of my life happen all at once. In the last two months, I’ve started to feel like my life is much bigger roller-coaster than ever before. It’s hard to figure out how to feel about it all, because everything changes so quickly, and my emotions are slow and laborious. And it seems like I’m always stuck on the last thing that happened to me. Instead of enjoying the now. Especially if that last thing was negative, and the now is positive. It’s hard to find the chocolate, when it’s embedded in the shit sandwich in front of you. Or maybe it’s hard to eat chocolate after you just had a shit sandwich?

Like, three months ago, I came back from California to find that one of the coffee shops that carry my cards had closed. Without telling me. And without paying for the stock I’d left there on consignment. I was blinded by my rage, at them, and at me, for not seeing this coming. -And if you know any of the guys who used to own Chance of Rain Coffee Shop, tell them I’d like my cards or my money, please. (Yeah, I’m still a little pissed).

I spent the next few days worked myself into an angry frenzy. Nothing could convince me that this wasn’t a sign that I’m a shitty business person, who makes shitty business decisions. More than that, it was the fact that these guys who had sold my cards for years couldn’t so much as email or call me to tell me that they were closing the shop and did I want my Snarky Cards back? It was a violation. And it made me feel bad about myself and bad about them. And impotent. I couldn’t find them. I didn’t have their phone numbers, I tried finding them online, but it’s easy to ignore someone’s email. It’s hard to ignore a phone call. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop feeling mad. And that made me more mad.

The next day, I got a wholesale order from a store in Brooklyn, NY. But I was still so mad at Chance of Rain, this order didn’t assuage the impotence and rage I felt when I walked up to Chance of Rain and saw the closed sign. It took me a while to let go of being angry at those communist-cafe owners.

So it took me weeks to realize that Shag, The Brooklyn store who bought my cards for their grand opening is a much bigger, better deal than my continued business relationship with that coffee shop. And it’s OK if those hippie, anarchist dicks left town without telling me (although, those dude still owe me money, so if you see any of them, please ask for my money back. Or maybe discreetly shit on them).

In fact, Shag’s buying Snarky Cards makes them bi-coastal! That means that I can make something happen in other people’s vaginas on every coast of the country, ultimately bringing me a great deal closer to world domination. Which has been my plan all along. in case you can’t tell. So after a week or two of recovery time, I went around preening, telling people offhandedly “Oh, yeah and Snarky Cards are selling in New York now. Oh. Didn’t I tell you? Yeah, a sexy store in Brooklyn bought them.” I tried to be subtle but I’m really bad at subtle. It didn’t matter, my friends were thrilled that I’d gotten my cards that far into the world.

And Shag rocks. I couldn’t afford to go to New York for their opening, but they’ve gotten great reviews (note the pics of Snarky Cards right before the pics of the vibrators!) on and offline. They’re a swanky sex boutique.

Early next year, Swag’s owners are planning on launching their own line of organic homemade lubricant, made with all natural products and no added preservatives. A condom gumball machine is in the works too. And they do casting. Which means that you can go into their store with  your partner and have a cast made of his or her sexy parts, so that you can make a sex toy shaped exactly like the one you love. How cool is that? I’m so excited that I’m affiliated with such a swanky, innovative shop! They’re like Good Vibrations and a sexy art studio all in one. All in all, it kinda seems like the perfect place for Snarky Cards. And now I have a reason to visit New York!

So in the end, after my stomach turns a little bit, when the roller coaster of my life slows down, I find that everything is a little bit better than it was before all the ups and downs. So I’m trying to take a deep breath, and enjoy the ride.I’m trying to have faith that it will all turn out right in the end. And what’s better for faith than a room full of vibrators? So, thanks Shag for giving me an upside, and saving the day!

Last week, I realized that I had sold 17,993 Snarky Cards, since I’ve started. Most of those I’ve sold in Portland, Oregon, where I live. And you can tell. There aren’t very many bars, coffee shops or refrigerators left in Portland that aren’t marred by a Snarky Card or two. I think I might have saturated the market. And I’m getting that itchy feeling. I wanna go somewhere where my cards and my boobs are new.

Shannon is on the left, and her room-mate Lizzie is on the right. Lizzie let me sleep in her room. Her bed is really comfy. I didn't have sex in it. I had sex in a car in the parking lot next door.

So, I went to Eugene. This isn’t totally out of the blue, my little sister Shannon lives in Eugene, she’s going to be an architect. She’s the only one out of the four of us to get a degree, and I’ve never visited her. I know that sounds harsh, but she comes to Portland to hang out every other month, and I never really felt like I could leave. But now, all I’m doing is thinking about leaving. So, I splurged the $22 for the bus ticket down to our state capital.

This is the Eugene Buffalo Store, isn't it sexy?

When I got to Eugene the bus stopped in front of Buffulo Exchange, where I promptly tromped in with my Snarky Cards and asked if they would like to carry them. The cute girls at Buffalo Exchange were delighted, and they bought 60 Snarky Cards for their store.

A night at the bar can get you knocked up!John Henry's had this up at the bar. I thought it was precious.

Later, that night, Shannon and her girlfriend, Jen took me out to the bars to sell. It was awesome! I sold a lot of cards, and I met a lot of people, and I flirted with cute boys. The boys of Eugene are pretty rad, funny, smart, and not at all weird, like they are in Portland. My mind was blown with the make-out possibilities!

On Saturday, I went around to some stores in The Whittaker. Which is the independent, cool, hipster area of Eugene. In other words: It’s the part of Eugene that looks like Portland.

We started with Olive Juice. Which is this KICK-ASS party store! They have wigs, mustaches, cocktails sets, and boost-i-ae’s! It’s like, they stock everything you could ever want, in order to be the life of the party! Obviously, being a booze-focused party store, they went ape-shit over my cards, and you can now find Snarky Cards nestled amongst the coolness that is Olive Juice.

The Fruits of My Sweatshop!

I only brought two display boxes, and I got nervous that maybe I’d need more. So, Shannon got out her paints, and handed me some cardboard, and I went to town making some more. Eventually I roped her and her room-mate Dana into helping me get the cardboard all prepped for painting. It was like my own little sweatshop! I’ve always dreamed of my own sweatshop.My heart melted at the site of them.

Afterwards I went selling at the bars Saturday night. The kids in Eugene seemed to dig me, and I sold a lot of Snarky Cards, and I talked to a lot of cute bartenders. I smoked some weed and I flirted with some cute boys. On Sunday, Shannon wrangled Jen and some cute girls they’re friends with, and we all went to The River to swim. It was really fun. Well, except that these girls are all about ten years younger than me, and thought nothing of bounding down steep ravines into said river. And my poor leg, still feels a little stuck and broken. And so I got stuck, and I felt a little old.

Thanks, Eugene! For making this whore feel at home!

But that’s the price for not dying; feeling your age. And they were so young and beautiful and enthusiastic, it was hard not to get caught up in their excitement. I think it stirred something up in me, though. Maybe it was their easy laughter, or maybe it was just that I’d already noticed The Boys Of Eugene; they flirt easier than The Boys Of Portland. They show unabashed interest. They don’t seem as fucking depressed as Portland Boys either. That night, I went out selling in the bars of Eugene one last time with a mission. I was going to get fucking laid. And I did. I met a really cute boy, who didn’t have a hard time cleaning the spiders out of my Vagina, in his sexy station wagon.

All in all, it was the best trip I’ve ever taken to such a small town. I heart Eugene. And I think Eugene hearts me!