A stroke of brilliance. If I do say so myself.
Note: If the reader is the type who likes horse drawn carriages, dove releases or floor length veils - evaluate:
1. If you are over the age of thirteen and not a royal descendant, get a hold of yourself woman.
2. If you are under the age of thirteen - log off. This blog has not yet been rated.
I never thought of myself as a "wedding" sort of person. I've always poo-pooed the merchandising bridal madness that seems to overcome the young and the female. Even as a kid at girl scout camp - at night, when my cabin mates would all sit together on one bunk bed and describe their wedding fantasies, I couldn't relate. I ditched those popular girls for the nerds who were telling dirty jokes and daring each other to do various exhibitionist acts out in the woods. Never looked back.
Yesterday, however, I received a marketing piece for a wedding cake baker and I'm a little smitten. She looked like she had a pretty good thing going and her cakes look lovely. The envelope had a logo, inside was a personal note, a business card and a brochure. Now, I had already decided that I wasn't going to have a cake at my wedding, mostly because of budgetary reasons. But because of my stroke of brilliance - I just might get to have the sugar monstrosity that I never thought I wanted.
The baker has no web site. I have no wedding cake. Humm.
I spent three hours or so mocking up a website that went with her current marketing theme and wrote her a letter offering free web hosting and design in exchange for one "lemon buttermilk layer cake with mixed berry compote filling and cream cheese icing" (sounds divine, doesn’t it?) It would be an exchange of $400 in talent approximately. Keep your fingers crossed, and if this pans out - I may start doing the rounds.
I'm a little ashamed of what has become of me. What ever happend to that little girl telling dirty jokes?
1. If you are over the age of thirteen and not a royal descendant, get a hold of yourself woman.
2. If you are under the age of thirteen - log off. This blog has not yet been rated.
I never thought of myself as a "wedding" sort of person. I've always poo-pooed the merchandising bridal madness that seems to overcome the young and the female. Even as a kid at girl scout camp - at night, when my cabin mates would all sit together on one bunk bed and describe their wedding fantasies, I couldn't relate. I ditched those popular girls for the nerds who were telling dirty jokes and daring each other to do various exhibitionist acts out in the woods. Never looked back.
Yesterday, however, I received a marketing piece for a wedding cake baker and I'm a little smitten. She looked like she had a pretty good thing going and her cakes look lovely. The envelope had a logo, inside was a personal note, a business card and a brochure. Now, I had already decided that I wasn't going to have a cake at my wedding, mostly because of budgetary reasons. But because of my stroke of brilliance - I just might get to have the sugar monstrosity that I never thought I wanted.
The baker has no web site. I have no wedding cake. Humm.
I spent three hours or so mocking up a website that went with her current marketing theme and wrote her a letter offering free web hosting and design in exchange for one "lemon buttermilk layer cake with mixed berry compote filling and cream cheese icing" (sounds divine, doesn’t it?) It would be an exchange of $400 in talent approximately. Keep your fingers crossed, and if this pans out - I may start doing the rounds.
I'm a little ashamed of what has become of me. What ever happend to that little girl telling dirty jokes?
posted by Noir Muse at 5:04 PM
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