Recently I was asked to donate a very popular drink charm set for a Facebook giveaway. Not a blog giveaway. Not an Etsy Team giveaway. A Facebook giveaway. I never heard of such a thing and I was skeptical. As well I should have been.
I looked into this person's Facebook page and didn't see much. Lots of links that I didn't have time to click. Then I went to look at the person's Etsy shop. Yikes.
The shop was all about crochet. Crocheted things for babies. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, except for the fact that she used those true-to-life rubber babies as models. I'm so grossed out by those things I can't even tell you. I was so distracted by these wrinkly, squinty-eyed things that I couldn't even get a good look at the product for sale. Rubber...babies. That's just wrong and bad.
Here's the thing. This person wants to pay tribute to the anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. She wants people to donate their beautiful work, their hard work, their work that they don't model on rubber babies, so she can just give it away. I don't suppose she's got any of her own things to give away either. She's just going to list this stuff as "Free Giveaway Stuff" on her Facebook page, people are going to get it for free and that will be that. She's not showcasing particular artists or crafters. I speculate that her reasoning for doing this, on Facebook, is so people follow her, look at her, give her Facebook numbers she can brag about. She's not doing a service for the particular people whose things she's giving away. She's not paying tribute to the work that goes into these special giveaway items. She's not going to encourage anyone to shop at these people's Etsy shops. She's giving away good stuff so people pay attention to her. It just all kind of made me sick.
It all got me thinking about donations in general. Not just donating created items, but also donating clothes and household items to charities. Why do people donate? Why do they not?
I'm not above donating something to make myself look good. If someone wanted to write a blog post about me, interview me, and request that I donate something for one of their lucky readers to win, I'd probably do it. I'd do it because it would benefit me.
On the other hand, I donate a lot of things from my house that I don't use anymore. Clothes, bedding, small appliances, books...lots and lots of things. I don't donate them to make myself look good, I donate them because I want to get things that are useless to me (but still in fine condition) out of my house. OK, in that respect it benefits me - a less cluttered house is always a good thing. But I'm not looking for people to admire me because I'm donating something. In a way, when I make my donations I'm having a giveaway too. But I'm not doing it on Facebook and I'm giving away my own things. I'm not looking for the praise. I'm not even looking for a tax break.
I just thought this person's methods were in bad taste and had a disrespect for my work. She didn't even give an opinion of why she thought my item would be a good giveaway item, like "what a clever idea," or "these are so cute." It's all about her. Sorry honey, but when it comes to my business it's pretty much all about me. Unless she can guarantee this giveaway will bring more business to me, I'm not interested. Oh, there's one exception to that rule: some craft fairs will ask you to donate something worth at least $10 for a silent auction or raffle. The proceeds for something like that goes to the organization sponsoring the craft fair. I'm all for that and will gladly donate for their cause.
I sound so selfish about this, but seriously, I can't get those damn rubber babies out of my mind. Ick.
March 18, 2012
January 21, 2012
Not Exactly Jesus, But Just As Impressive
I've been away for a while and it seems I've lost touch with my dark side, my angry side, my snarky side, my downright hateful side. That side is a huge part of me and frankly, I've missed it. Enough of the Suzy Creamcheese I'm forced to show on my other blog ~ I'm tired of pretending to be always cheerful, creative, upbeat and perky. I'm so much more myself when I let my mean out.
This post isn't exactly about mean, but is pretty disgusting and the subject matter made me think of another post I wrote, which made me think of Faux Ma, which in turn poked at that part of me which has been repressed for the sake of tolerant harmony and support.
The other day Boyfriend and I were having our little dinner together. It had been a busy day for Boyfriend so instead of either of us cooking he brought home some Bruegger's bagle sandwiches. To go along with them we had some potato chips.
I'm not one to get all hyped up over seeing the face of Jesus in an overdone tortilla or the image of the Virgin Mary peering through the crust of a freshly baked loaf of bread. But people travel from far and wide to get a glimpse of these occurrences, claiming they're divine, a message from God. Nor do I get too excited over vegetables that grow to look the face of Richard Nixon or Abraham Lincoln. Like the holy images, these vegetables become famous enough to make the local news.
As Boyfriend and I were munching away on our sandwiches and chatting away about our day I picked up a potato chip. My eyes widened a snicker came out of my nose as it would a nasty-minded 4th grader. I showed the chip to Boyfriend and all he could say was, "Good God." Neither of us could eat the potato chip and still, to this day, sits in a pretty green bowl on our kitchen countertop. It seems wrong to throw away such a freakish creation, and yet neither of us could bring ourselves to eat it.
I'm not kidding you. It's a cooter chip. Feast your eyes on this crispy vision of loveliness. I ask you, could you eat it? Do you think I should contact the local news team to cover this story? Would people come from other lands to get a glimpse of, or even worship, the cooter chip? Could I make millions off of this? Have I completely lost my mind in spending time photographing and writing about the cooter chip? Am I a lesbian? The questions just keep coming and I can't decide what to make of it all.
What would you do if you came across a cooter chip on your plate? Would you blush? Would you gobble it up before anyone could identify the fact that you were eating a cooter in plain view? Would you pass it around to show all of your friends?
Such is the life of someone who doesn't get out much, looking for fame and fortune in the discovery of a cooter chip. I doubt anything will become of my find, but here it will stay for all of eternity, on Meredith's blog filled with all things childish and disgusting.
This post isn't exactly about mean, but is pretty disgusting and the subject matter made me think of another post I wrote, which made me think of Faux Ma, which in turn poked at that part of me which has been repressed for the sake of tolerant harmony and support.
The other day Boyfriend and I were having our little dinner together. It had been a busy day for Boyfriend so instead of either of us cooking he brought home some Bruegger's bagle sandwiches. To go along with them we had some potato chips.
I'm not one to get all hyped up over seeing the face of Jesus in an overdone tortilla or the image of the Virgin Mary peering through the crust of a freshly baked loaf of bread. But people travel from far and wide to get a glimpse of these occurrences, claiming they're divine, a message from God. Nor do I get too excited over vegetables that grow to look the face of Richard Nixon or Abraham Lincoln. Like the holy images, these vegetables become famous enough to make the local news.
As Boyfriend and I were munching away on our sandwiches and chatting away about our day I picked up a potato chip. My eyes widened a snicker came out of my nose as it would a nasty-minded 4th grader. I showed the chip to Boyfriend and all he could say was, "Good God." Neither of us could eat the potato chip and still, to this day, sits in a pretty green bowl on our kitchen countertop. It seems wrong to throw away such a freakish creation, and yet neither of us could bring ourselves to eat it.
I'm not kidding you. It's a cooter chip. Feast your eyes on this crispy vision of loveliness. I ask you, could you eat it? Do you think I should contact the local news team to cover this story? Would people come from other lands to get a glimpse of, or even worship, the cooter chip? Could I make millions off of this? Have I completely lost my mind in spending time photographing and writing about the cooter chip? Am I a lesbian? The questions just keep coming and I can't decide what to make of it all.
What would you do if you came across a cooter chip on your plate? Would you blush? Would you gobble it up before anyone could identify the fact that you were eating a cooter in plain view? Would you pass it around to show all of your friends?
Such is the life of someone who doesn't get out much, looking for fame and fortune in the discovery of a cooter chip. I doubt anything will become of my find, but here it will stay for all of eternity, on Meredith's blog filled with all things childish and disgusting.
January 11, 2012
Fie Fo
Dear Charlotte,
Thank you.
Love,
Blackie
Do you mean it ?
Do you mean it ?
Do you mean it ?
Why don't you mean it ?
Why do I follow you and where do you go
Aah aah aah aah aah aah
You've never seen nothing like it no never in your life
Like going up to heaven and then coming back alive
Let me tell you all about it
And the world will so allow it
Ooh give me a little time to choose
Water babies singing in a lily-pool delight
Blue powder monkeys praying in the dead of night
Here comes the Black Queen, poking in the pile
Fie-fo the black Queen, marching single file
Take this, take that, bring them down to size
March to the Black Queen
Put them in the cellar with the naughty boys
A little nigger sugar then a rub-a-dub-a baby oil
(aah aah) black on (aah aah), black on every finger nail and toe
We've only begun - begun
Make this, make that, keep making all that noise
March to the Black Queen
Now I've got a belly-full
You can be my sugar-baby, you can be my honey-chile, yes
La laa la laa la laa la laa la la la la la laa
La laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa
A voice from behind me reminds me
(tra la laa tra la laa aaah)
Spread out your wings you are an angel
Remember to deliver with the speed of light
A little bit of love and joy
Everything you do (will bear a will) bears a will and a why and a wherefore
A little bit of love and joy
In each and every soul lies a man, very soon he'll deceive and discover
But even till the end of his life, he'll bring a little love
Aah ah aah
La la la la laa
Ah ah ah ah aah
Ah la la la laa
I reign with my left hand, I rule with my right
I'm lord of all darkness, I'm Queen of the night
I've got the power - now do the march of the Black Queen
My life is in your hands, I'll fo and I'll fie
I'll be what you make me, I'll do what you like
I'll be a bad boy - I'll be your bad boy - I'll do the march of the Black Queen
Ah aah ah aah
Ah aah ah aah
Walking true to style
She's vulgar 'buse and vile
Fie-fo the Black Queen, tattoos all her pies
She boils and she bakes, and she never dots her "I's"
She's our leader
La la la la laa la la laa
La la la la la laa
Forget your singalongs and your lullabies
Surrender to the city of the fireflies
Dance with the devil in beat with the band
To hell with all of you hand-in-hand
But now it's time to be gone - (la la la laaa) forever - forever
La la la laaa aaah aah aah aaah
Written by Freddie Mercury.
Sung by Freddie Mercury.
Thank you.
Love,
Blackie
Do you mean it ?
Do you mean it ?
Do you mean it ?
Why don't you mean it ?
Why do I follow you and where do you go
Aah aah aah aah aah aah
You've never seen nothing like it no never in your life
Like going up to heaven and then coming back alive
Let me tell you all about it
And the world will so allow it
Ooh give me a little time to choose
Water babies singing in a lily-pool delight
Blue powder monkeys praying in the dead of night
Here comes the Black Queen, poking in the pile
Fie-fo the black Queen, marching single file
Take this, take that, bring them down to size
March to the Black Queen
Put them in the cellar with the naughty boys
A little nigger sugar then a rub-a-dub-a baby oil
(aah aah) black on (aah aah), black on every finger nail and toe
We've only begun - begun
Make this, make that, keep making all that noise
March to the Black Queen
Now I've got a belly-full
You can be my sugar-baby, you can be my honey-chile, yes
La laa la laa la laa la laa la la la la la laa
La laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa la laa
A voice from behind me reminds me
(tra la laa tra la laa aaah)
Spread out your wings you are an angel
Remember to deliver with the speed of light
A little bit of love and joy
Everything you do (will bear a will) bears a will and a why and a wherefore
A little bit of love and joy
In each and every soul lies a man, very soon he'll deceive and discover
But even till the end of his life, he'll bring a little love
Aah ah aah
La la la la laa
Ah ah ah ah aah
Ah la la la laa
I reign with my left hand, I rule with my right
I'm lord of all darkness, I'm Queen of the night
I've got the power - now do the march of the Black Queen
My life is in your hands, I'll fo and I'll fie
I'll be what you make me, I'll do what you like
I'll be a bad boy - I'll be your bad boy - I'll do the march of the Black Queen
Ah aah ah aah
Ah aah ah aah
Walking true to style
She's vulgar 'buse and vile
Fie-fo the Black Queen, tattoos all her pies
She boils and she bakes, and she never dots her "I's"
She's our leader
La la la la laa la la laa
La la la la la laa
Forget your singalongs and your lullabies
Surrender to the city of the fireflies
Dance with the devil in beat with the band
To hell with all of you hand-in-hand
But now it's time to be gone - (la la la laaa) forever - forever
La la la laaa aaah aah aah aaah
Written by Freddie Mercury.
Sung by Freddie Mercury.
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