Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being poor...but there ain't nothin' particularly great about it, either.
Growing up, my dad would always pester me about my life choices. Still does, as a matter of fact. The man loves to give unsolicited advice. Back when I was in college, he kept trying to get me to change my major from English to anything but English. Speech therapy. Business. Chinese. Chinese business. He wanted me to pursue a career that would one day pay the bills. At one time he even suggested I look into a career in the military. (Can any of you really see ME in the military? I do one sit-up a day--the one that allows me to get out of bed in the morning. I see no reason to do more.)
Anyway, my dad was right. My freaking nephew bought a house last year. MY NEPHEW. A HOUSE. I changed his diapers, and now he's hosting Christmas dinner at HIS HOUSE. That HE OWNS.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my English studies. The knowledge and skills I gained in college have come in handy many times. I never say "less" when I really mean "fewer." I never abuse apostrophes. I also know under what circumstances a semicolon is appropriate. I probably could have put a few to good use in this very paragraph, as a matter of fact. Oh well. Missed opportunities is one of the themes of this post.
Bottom line, I need to get rich. Why? Because, umm...I want to help the poor. Yeah! I want to help them by buying nice handbags for them to admire. Don't you think that would brighten up a poor person's day? Gazing upon this little beauty as it passes them by...
OK, I sense that I've gone too far.
I'm just sick of constantly worrying about my finances. I know that I'm not as frugal as I could be. I go out to eat a lot. I have about a $30/month lipstick habit. I know I could cut back in many areas, and I intend to. It's one of my goals this year to be more budget-conscious. But don't you ever wonder how the other half live? Imagine being able to relate to Jay-Z when he raps "What you call money, I pay more in taxes."
A couple hundred years ago, you had to be involved in steel, oil, banking, or railroads to become a millionaire. These days, any damn fool can become a millionaire. Right now, on a private beach somewhere in The Hamptons, the inventor of the Snuggie is lounging around, counting his money and laughing maniacally to himself. I ain't gonna get there by making cupcakes for a living. My sister tells me, "Randi, you don't need a different job. You need an idea."
So I'm putting it out there, dear readers. I need an idea. Help me come up with a plan. Whoever comes up with the million dollar--or better yet, billion dollar--idea gets a free trip to my Hampton estate. The one I'm gonna build right next to Snuggie dude. Only mine's gonna make his look like a shrimp shack.
I'll also buy you that little Marc Jacobs beauty pictured above.
Ready...set...go!
6 comments:
(I'm always so excited when I see you've posted)
We're vacationing on St. John in the Virgin Islands right now and found this little house in the hills with an amazing view for a really reasonable weekly rate. However, around us are a couple of fancy resorts and loads of people coming to shore from their fancy yachts and sailboats. The other day, as a particularly lovely sailboat floated by, I asked Jason, "How DO people get money?" Because while we're fine, I still have a huge pile of student loans and I know that money will always be something we need to be careful of (of which we need to be careful).
If I come up with a good idea, I'll let you know and we can go halvsies.
So I had this dream last night that I came up with an incredible idea, but when I woke up I couldn't remember what it was. Oh well. Although I have this vague recollection that it had something to do with books (the old-fashioned paper, not electronic kind), so perhaps it wasn't such a great idea in the real world anyway.
And once you find that billion dollar idea, yes, I would love a nice handbag for my birthday. I am particularly fond of green or orange these days.
Why don't you teach english by using cupcakes. Decorate a cup cake with a brief english lesson and then sell to the masses. I can see every school cafiteria ordering them...especially if they are red velvet and made with fake gross dye...just saying! If you need my address for the bag...just get ahold of my people.
Bekah, two words, 'breast.pump'.....
'sides that Randalina, you can get a ChickFilA franchise for CHEAP!!!!!!!!
I will gladly help you with that adventure.
I have several million dollar ideas for movies and TV shows. I will sell them to you for nothing more than an Executive Producer credit. And a pie.
English and spelling I'm not so good at....so I'll give you my idea. You create a series of books about an antique dealer that helps to solve murder mysteries. You would find clues while cleaning out items from estates or find items in a box at an auction that lead you to the murder....and you can vintage hunt through the whole story....of course there will also need to be a romance in every book too!
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