Deb Mackie, IGMA Artisan
This law states that when one cares for twelve cats, at least one of them will suffer hairballs. This law further states that although eleven of these cats will fight for the chance to lick up some tasy fish-flavored hairball remedy, the one that runs away at the sight of the stuff will be he who has the hairballs.
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Since I got this job working as web geek for the local Girl Scout Council, I've had a fun time digging up my old GS stuff. I still have my canteen, mess kit, jack knife, handbook and my Junior Sash, all of which are now on display in my office. I never went further than Junior, by then I'd gotten involved in the 4H horse club and GS kind of went by the wayside. That, and we got a new leader who was a real bitch. She sent my sister home in tears one night after ridiculing her in front of the group, and that was pretty much the end of it.
That was 1973, the last year of that uniform type. They've got a sash out in the lobby in the "antiques" display just like mine. GAH.
I knew my uniform was gone–I think Dory inherited it, or it might have even gone to the Salvation Army, who knows. I'm pretty sure she got my pins, because I had to look on ebay for replacements. But there it hangs like a trophy, on my wall, badges down one side and up the other. Genesee Valley Troop 749, Lily of the Valley…could have told you that even before I dug it out of my drawer.
So imagine my disgust to find out that niece Nattie's Daisy troop "doesn't bother with uniforms." WTF??? All she got was the membership pin. What's she supposed to do with that without a uniform??? And where's she going to put the badges she earns? Are they "not bothering" with earning badges now too? JEEZ, why do it then?
I went to the GS shop here and bought her a uniform vest and insignia, and a bunch of cute optional stuff to go with it. Being the little diva that she is, she'll probably parade around in it and make all her little daisy friends so jealous, their moms will HAVE to go get them uniforms too. That's my evil plan, anyway.
I don't get it. The uniforms we had were nerdy brown or green dresses, but we wore them anyway, even to school when our troop meetings were in the cafeteria afterwards. The uniforms now are nice, come in different styles, and have all kinds of optional cool stuff to go with them. Girls aren't "required" to wear them, but are encouraged.
Sounds to me like Nattie's troop leader just doesn't want to be bothered. And you can't tell me that parents from her area can't afford 15 bucks for a lousy vest and another dollar or two for a couple of pins and patches. I went whole hog (to the tune of $60!) and got her the matching leggings, shirt, hat and a silly fun patch too. That way I'm hoping she'll get into it. I might even go back and spring for the cute little necklace too.
She's supposed to start selling cookies this year, and there's nothing I HATE more than seeing a troop of girls dressed like a bunch of unruly Britney Spears wannabes selling cookies. The boy scouts always appear like a bunch of polite, smart little soldiers in their uniforms when they sell their popcorn.
What happened to the girls? Are we so damned PC that "gee, we don't want to MAKE someone wear a uniform if they don't want to…" Gods forbid we do that. I'm sorry, but to me it was part of the experience, the belonging to the group "thing." I remember one poor girl in my troop who was overweight and tall for her age, and she was really upset that she couldn't get a uniform in her size. When we went to camp and saw other troops who had more badges on their sashes than we did, we were jealous as hell, and our leaders knew it.
I just don't get it. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I just think it sucks to be a girl scout and NOT have a uniform.
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I think I've settled on my DE Art Museum miniature for next year:
Howard Pyle's Winged Black Horse, From his book "The Garden Behind the Moon."
It's actually a black and white illustration which the museum owns, but someone obviously colored it for the cover of the book. And the miniatures are supposed to be interpretations, after all.
This time I'm going to start working on it way ahead of time. I'm thinking cool lighting effects, a nice solid display case, none of this temporary foamcore crap.
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Just got out of the staff meeting at the GS. Only two agenda items:
1. No staff increases this year, be glad you still have a job.
2. We're gonna have a great year–rah rah. Sell those cookies.
Not a big surprise. In the kingdom of Nonprofitland, this is the way it is, economy or not. Funny thing is, another comment was made about everything will get better now that Obama is here to save the day. That remains to be seen, in my book.
What gets me is that every frigging job I've ever had, from start to finish seems to be jinxed just by me joining the staff.
1986: Rex laid me off since he was making no profits. (That, and he really wanted to buy a new boat.)
1987: Pam…well she did herself in by complaining to DuPont about their practice of not paying invoices for 90 days. That was just the beginning of the end. Can't say that was my fault.
1988: The Mint–got one raise, then they had a wage freeze for two years. The place just went downhill after that. We did get a box of moldy oranges and some nuts for xmas every year instead of bonuses. And don't forget that cleverly retouched card with Stuart and Lynda's smiling faces on it.
1992: Janet–not only did we get no raises, we came to work one day and were informed we were all now hourly freelancers and would only be called in if there was work, which there was not.
1993: RTE-wasn't there long enough to get a raise, but found out that only the Art director "boys club" employees got bonuses. We girls in the trenches got zip. Oh wait, everyone did get that nice unframed print of of a green pepper from Norm.
1994: MBNA-started out as a well-paid contractor, then we all got told that we'd only get paid for 40 hours, but were expected to work more if we wanted to be hired full time. I quit.
1996: Went back to the Mint to take part in the company's final downhill slide. It started with the PACE program, where employees were to get yearly payouts instead of raises, based on the company's profits. Nobody got shit, considering theyd been operating in the hole for years. Then they brought in a new CEO, who decided the best way to cut costs was to cut staff. Eventually, he ran out of people to lay off. I got axed in the third round. What was left of the place got bought by a former competitor for peanuts.
2001: DE art Museum–not only did I take a 5k pay cut by accepting this job, but my first year was their first year to not balance the budget, and they've been operating in the hole ever since. Got a couple of 3 percent raises on my already tiny salary, then we had a wage freeze. When the wage freeze got lifted, we were told we'd get our 3% raise, but that we'd now have to pay 3% more for the health plan. I managed to dodge that raw deal–I got laid off.
2007: Bank of America–spent a year or so being paid handsomely for a job I hated, then suddenly everything got really slow, and again, got laid off. People still there are fearing for their jobs as I write this.
2008: Girl Scouts–barely been here two months, making less money than I did 15 years ago, and already there's a wage freeze.
22 years of this same old crap kinda makes me wonder–am I just jinxed, or is the world just seriously fucked up? I mean, I hear friends bitching about not getting their bonuses, or getting smaller ones this year, and it dawns on me that I have NEVER had a job where I got anything resembling a bonus, and considered myself lucky if I even got a frigging 3 percent raise. Or a box of moldy oranges.
Which leads me to my new mantra: "It Is What It Is."
This as good as it gets. All's fair in love and war/business. Accept it, make the best of it, and try to stay positive and glad to be alive. A job is just a job, love doesn't last, and if my artwork sells, it's a pleasant surprise.
Things can ALWAYS be worse.
Carry on.
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As I figured, staying up late to finish those angels was a waste of time. Did not sell a single thing of mine at the house tour show, but then I kinda figured that would be the case. I'm starting to get used to it.
I did manage to sell Stewart's display of the Spring Witch for him. He only wanted $250 for it, but I marked it at $500. His work is stunning. The guy who bought it was just thrilled, and knew he got a real steal even at $500. Stewart was thrilled too. Hey, at least I managed a sale for someone else.
I'm doing my best not to get discouraged. Most people loved the dolls, marveled at them, asked lots of questions, took my card, then walked away. I only got two comments on my prices:
"These are just beautiful, but there's no way I'm paying that much for a doll." From a woman who spent a pantload on some ugly jewelry.
"Your prices are VERY reasonable for the quality of your work." From a man who has friends who collect art dolls.
So, no more shows til IGMA in February. Just as well I didn't sell a bunch, now I don't have to scramble to fill my table. My plan is to spend a week or so fixing and touching up some of my earlier dolls, then go back to making some new ones. No more rushing.
If I don't sell any at IGMA and Chicago, I will take the hint and go back to selling them cheap on ebay. Or just give them away. I'm not going to worry about it anymore. It takes the fun out of the creative part of it. Since I'm obviously not going to make a living making dolls, I've accepted the idea that I have to work a day job, and then make the best of my creative time by exploring techniques, and making the best pieces I can instead of trying to crank them out for shows.
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Well, the trailer is STILL a disaster, but I managed to clear enough space to make a couple of Christmas dolls for the Holiday House Tour show tomorrow. The first is my "Pirate/Stripper/Gay Santa." I'm still working on a couple of angels–probably be up late tonight getting them finished.
I got out the tray of "blank" dolls I made at mom's last Easter and decided to do something with them rather than the original kits I was going to put them in. What the hell, they're already half done, not the greatest poses, but quicker to finish. So one of the guys got to be Santa. The costume is made out of a pair of bright red spandex leggings I bought years ago and never had the nerve to wear. I listed him on the website as "pirate" santa, because that was Jim's comment when he saw him. Dory said he looked too "pretty," and I was going to try and make him look a bit more manly until Kraus said he looked gay and forwarded his picture to Dan and Ron. Ron wanted to buy him, but said he's a bit over his budget.
So, Gay Santa may find his way to ebay after tomorrow if he doesn't sell. Apparently there's quite a market for Gay Santas!
I'm not expecting to sell anything tomorrow, but it was a rock that needed to be turned over to see what crawls out. The miniatures show is still going on, and my Peacock Robe doll is in it, so I'm hoping to tie in to that whole thing, and I'm going to offer her for sale too. Kraus says that there's a lot of big spenders who come to this thing, so who knows. So far, unless the big spenders also happen to be miniaturists, they don't seem to understand why my dolls cost what they do.
I'm going to put my Pre-Raph ladies out for half-price–they're not my best work, and maybe that way they'll find homes. Except Lilith–she's a full tableau, so she'll get a markdown, but not half. Too bad I didn't get the Pyle Mermaid done–that would have been nice to have out for this show.
The table fee was only $25, so it won't be a major loss. Besides, the Museum Council gets 40% of the sale, so that kinda sucks too. I figure it's a way to get my work seen, maybe pick up a sale or commission, and what the hell, have a fun day hanging out at the museum. I figure I'll take along a demo doll to work on and I'm taking the outhouse scene too just for show. I might take Skeetlin's room too now that I have the light fixed. It's an 8 foot table, so I've got plenty of room.
After this, no more shows til IGMA in February. That one should be fun–no pressure, no ads, no workshop to run, just show up and sell. At least THAT particular audience is willing to pay even more than I charge for handmade dolls–they know the art form.
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