White jorts and Ali is not a farmer

First time for everything... With the knowledge that many of my vendors were without greens for this, that, or the other reasoning (aka fucking rain) I decided that I would put out a call for greens for this past weekend's market. I went $50 deep on some goods from some local growers to assure that we did actually have produce while most farms are struggling just to get things to grow in our extra raining Spring... andddddd became a vendor at my own market. Not to mention I had to trek into the deep and dirty Gresham to get said veggies... This is the part of town you do not want to be in... Not so much for the violence, but because meth is real and trashy people come in packs. (Goog it. Dirtyville) As entrepreneurial as that may have been, one slow day at the market and Ali had enough spinach, cilantro, and potatoes to feed a few day cares (not that I recommend you giving your toddler a baking potato to chew on- unless of course they are teething) and was out $40 doll hairs. Lesson learned. While I may be the only market manager that will go to those lengths to push for a successful day, I will not however be doing that again. One thing I really need to learn is to not take things so personally... Slow days happen... I cannot control the rain, nor can I control that NE Portland does not wake up before 12pm because they hit the PBR tall boys too hard at their neighborhood dive bar the night before. Regardless, I have already obsessed about other avenues I can explore enough to take up my whole Sunday. Try, try again.

I then spent the next few hours decompressing (Ipad times, Melba toast, vodka), and then dressed up in a terrifying outfit of pin stripe sear sucker shoes, white jorts, white button up, red suspenders, and a red bow tie. Why would gingie wear such a thing that could be so stained so quickly with one spilled drink or slip into the mud?! To be cupid for a single's mixer of course! I went intoxicated to a sexy singles social put on at Q Center... The theme was ridic, but I did manage to introduce a lot of people to each other and they left with new friends and possibly a complimentary reach around. All in all the weekend was not a total bust. It is 9:40 pm and I am in bed in OU basketball shorts and an Arkansas Razorback t-shirt drinking Diet Coke. There is something so satisfying about being in bed before 10pm... It also signifies that gingie may have hit the communal wine a bit too hard last evening.

This week will be busy with PRIDE meetings, Team Bingo Dreams, pantsuit times, drink times, Sleigh Bells concert, and the possibility of going to Redding, CA after the market next weekend... Stay tuned.