Side Chick.

Let me just say for the record that "side chicks" in the new age kinda way, shouldn't even be a THING.

I hate the word side chick, but in this sense it is appropriate and I have a new one.

As a single mom with a mortgage I have always HAD to have a second (or third) job. Which is cool, I don't mind working.

Wait.

Let me clarify.

As a single mom with a mortgage, who DOESN'T want Uncle Sam to be my baby daddy, I have always HAD to have a second job.

Do I judge you if you bring in cash from the state? Well....kinda. But I didn't want that for myself. Whether I am poor or not so poor, I would rather work for it myself.

Which brings me to my NEW side chick. 

In the last 2 weeks since deciding that I want to do this, I have gotten a lot of questions about this "new" direction that I am going. And in the past I have gotten some great questions and I decided to answer them here.

FAQ to Beanie the Ween Queen. 

(I'm kidding don't ever call me that!)

How much is it for you to do my Take Out Party?

Free! It doesn't cost you a thing. And with my fantastic hostess rewards, you SHOULD be able to get free product as well. 

As a Hostess, what do I have to do?

Invite your friends and have a spot available for me to set up my table. That's all you HAVE to do. I have seen hostesses throw big giant parties with penis themed food and I have also seen them serve tasteful cocktails and finger foods. Do you boo.

How long does your Take Out party last?

2 hours. 1 to demo and 1 to sell product. It is quick and painless. If you are serving brunch or dinner I suggest scheduling your party 1 hour earlier for food. Then I will come in with my product and you can resume with cocktails once I leave!

Will you have games at your party?

No. But you may if you like.

Are you leaving your other job to do this?

No. Where I work is my dream job, it's perfect and I love it. That career is my husband whom I love and adore. This one is my side chick.

What made you decide to sell sex stuff?

"Sex stuff" is important. To both singles and married couples alike. I can offer you knowledgeable advice and tips that will spice up your sex life in any capacity. But I also sell products for sexual health as well. Which is even MORE important.

I'm married, I don't need sex toys.

Yes you do. Maybe he does too. Don't be selfish.

I have a very good sex life, so what can you offer me?

The things you need to have an amazing one.

What do you do at these parties?

Nothing crazy. Book one and find out.

Do you do private consultations?

Yes, I have done consultations with couples in the past who are very private and want to talk about some issues and hear solutions as a team.

Are men allowed at your parties?

Absolutely! But make sure all of your guests know. I love co-ed parties, mostly because men like to think that they know everything there is about sex and I like to educate them on it too. Men also need sexual aids or sex health advice, women are not the only ones!

Co-ed parties are great if your husband or S/O don't really want to take your advice about sex, but will listen to someone knowledgeable (who isn't their wife)

Also men are funny! 

What product will you be carrying?

My product is personally selected for each individual party. The hostess will answer some basic questions and I purchase and bring the product to demo for you that night. I believe that each person is unique, so why should I offer the same Take Out menu for every group?

How long will your items take to ship?

You will purchase your products in house and Take it Out that same night! The only time you would have to wait is if I ran out of a product and you HAD to have it. In that case, it would take about 1 week.

Why the name Take Out?

Because the main focus is your friends seeing the product, getting excited about it and Taking it Out that night. Take Out.

Do you offer products for LGBT?

Absolutely!

I am interested, but I am too shy to ask my friends if they want to have a sex party. What do you suggest?

We are not swinging from the ceiling and shoving dildos in all of our vaginas.A passion party can be intimidating in your brain. But in real life, it's a group of women who come together to see, hear and touch the newest products and innovations in sexual health. I am confident, knowledgeable and will act like a lady. (mostly)

If you are still uncomfortable I can get you an invite to someone else's party, host a Facebook LIVE party for you OR consult with you 1 on 1.

There are always options!

Why should I have a Take Out Party?

There are many reasons! Bridal shower, Birthday, Girls night, Divorce just remember I am entertaining, VERY entertaining....but I am not entertainMENT. Meaning, only book a party, if you and your friends are interested in purchasing product.

How can I contact you for my party?

Friend my Take out profile on Facebook by clicking HERE and message me for available dates! This profile is where I will be doing LIVE feeds of new product and advertising as well!

The consequence of being a dumbass. #sitthefuckdown

Today, was one of the scheduled walk out days that children around America have planned out and spread on social media. Like Herpes or the clap.

My response to this is just like I put it to my own daughter this morning:

Dear Children who think you are grown,

I do not in any way see what you are trying to accomplish by walking OUT on your education.
What are you rallying against....exactly?
Is your principal handing out guns on the down low?
Do your teachers wear "We support crazy kids killing our other kids" T-Shirts?

Because I believe, and correct me if I am mistaken, that by you walking OUT of your classrooms...you are walking out on your teachers.

The people who are so poor because they are underpaid but they still buy you pencils and backpacks.
Your principal, who runs through safety protocols 5 times a day and who's nightmares are peppered with gunshots and the faces of her students.

But MOST importantly, You are walking out on your EDUCATION. That education is your job.
It is your job to show up and make good enough grades so colleges will accept and vet for you. So that you can get a higher EDUCATION and maybe join congress and change the world, yeah but for realsies this time.

You want to rally up the troops GREAT! I will buy the donuts. Saturday, Sunday or any day after 3:00.
You want to hold a candle light vigil for children who have lost their lives to children who were not raised correctly, GREAT! I will buy you candles! Saturday, Sunday or any day after 3:00.
NOT while I am working my FIRST job and you are supposed to do your ONLY one.

You see, because in the great big ADULT world, if I walk out on my JOB for 17 minutes in protest of....well ANYTHING. My ass gets fired. And rightly so.

And if you walk out on YOUR job for any amount of time, the consequences are high. Not only with that little note that gets shoved into your file (You know, the one the colleges will see) But at home, with me. Because no MA'AM.

It is sad that children have died. Tragic. Heart wrenching.
But let me tell you where that starts. It certainly isn't in the tool that was used for the slaughter. It is in the hand that DARED to pick it up.

I grew up in a house with a walk in closet FULL of guns. EVERY kind you can think of.

I respected my daddy, and just like I wouldn't EVER talk back, roll my eyes or not look in HIS when he spoke, I would NEVER touch a gun without him behind my back telling me where to point it and which way the wind was blowing.

Cuz know why? (It's the simplest thing really...) I was raised with respect and DISCIPLINE.


SO little girl. You want to rally against Gun violence? Great. You want to change the world? AWESOME! You want to just say NO to bullying? I will make the fucking buttons! Saturday, Sunday or ANY day after 3:00.

#nomaam #sitthefuckdown #dontbeadumbbitch #beasmartbitch

The Meat Bouquet.

Ah the meat bouquet.
It is a thing. I think it is a really AWESOME thing. But I also think that spiders are good luck, so my brain might be skewed..(or screwed).

BEFORE I can get into the meat bouquet, I have to go back awhile in time. To a year...no no lets go back even further. 10 years. Let's go 10 years back. It's all relevant to the meat bouquet so just get a glass of wine, shut the fuck up and listen.

Dodaleedadodaleedadoooooooo **BAM! Time travel music**

10 years ago, I was 30. I was also on the verge of ending my marriage. (Or maybe I already had by then. I don't remember. My poor then husband.*pat pat*)
I was working my first ever job at Kindercare learning centers and I believe I had laryngitis for EVER from all of the funk and the goop that 2 year old's omit.

9 years ago... I was getting every other weekend OFF from motherhood and I went out to my very first club, watched my very first comedy show and drank at my very first bar. I also learned that gay bars are the best to dance at because people leave you alone. (Apparently, I'm not the lesbians type)

I also started selling passion products with My Ex-Husbands girlfriend...(That sounds way weirder then it actually was.) And discovered that I LOVED it and made a life long friend. Although sadly she became my ex-husbands ex-girlfriend soon enough.
I would go on to dabble in the slinging dings venture later in life as well.

During this year, for the first time ever, I got to "date" beautiful men who I didn't care about. Please notice the quotation marks around the word "date". Was I a whore? Maybe a little.

8 years ago I got STUCK in a refunckshinship *shudder*
How did I get stuck? That is a longer story. Needless to say I was inexperienced with clingers and couldn't shake this one. He clung. HARD.
After I while, I clung back. It was not the best situation, but from that I learned something very VERY important. Men might be delicious, but they are stupid.

6 years ago My weekends off were few and far between and besides, I decided to focus on the most important things in life. Not Men. 
My kids have always come first, but now when I DID get weekends off, I would spend that time doing something for them. Or me. Us. It was during this year that I also found out who my real #rideordie was. God. That's who. And once I realized how amazing He is. My life just imploded with happiness.

The next 5 years of my life have been spent working hard on my dream job, I've had a few side chicks (That is what I call my side jobs, RELAX) of Photography and slinging dings.

Watch me whip, watch me sling ding-dings....Did you sing that in your head?

Needless to say, I have been completely and total uninterested in men. Not one caught my eye. I didn't think any of them were cute and if someone mentioned the word "Boyfriend" or "Relationship" to me, I would dry heave into the nearest receptacle.

I was very VERY invested in my life as forever single raiser of pitbulls who would garden and make my own salsa and soap.

And this leads us back toooo....

1 year ago or The birth of the meat bouquet.

I had a crush. On a man. It was horrible. Awful. And everyone knows it. I mean EVERYONE knows it. If you know me and you are my friend. You know who it was.
If I work with you. You know who it was.
If you are my BOSS, you know who it was.
I am pretty sure that everyone in the whole world knows who it was.

I can't tell YOU who it was. DUH.

But I will say that I REALIZED that I had a crush on him when I did something so laughable and over the top You would piss yourself laughing....AT ME.

I have NEVER had a "crush" on someone. Do you want some advice? Stick to the salsa garden Because now we get to the point, the horror and the MEAT of this whole story.

The Meat bouquet.

WHY did I decide to SURPRISE! send this beautiful man meat? Did he flirt with me and give me a hint that he had a giant year long crush on me too? The answer to that is a HARD NO.
No. Hell no.

You can't be irritated on my behalf at the guy. My idea was COMPLETELY irrational. And embarrassing. But let me explain:

About a week prior to Valentines Day we had something happen at my place of business that was so sad, it was so tragic that it shook all of us to the core.
One of our parents died.
Out of the blue and at the age of 33. It broke our hearts and that is when I had the genius Idea of "FUCK IT, I could die tomorrow. I'm going to do something."

And like all supportive friends they rallied around me shouting "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"

Not really, that was just my brain.

So I started to hunt. I finally narrowed it down and had to make a hard and fast decision. Between the meat bouquet and this:

Now, now. I know what you are thinking. "Beanie gives the best presents." And I agree with you, but focus.

The decision to choose the meat bouquet was a simple one. Men like meat. If he hates my bouquet he can always eat it.

So that night I sat down and ordered it.
I WISH I could say that I was cool and calm about it like "Fuck it. I'm awesome."

But in reality, once I hit purchase, I started to dry heave and scream at the same time. What I was screaming was "I take it back I TAKE IT BAAAAACK! WHAT DID I JUST DOOOOOOOO!"

Yeah, the sound coming out of my mouth was a strange one, which brought my children running to check on me with wide eyes and worried faces.

"WHAT IS WRONG!" They both yelled over my retching screams.

"I did it. I bought the meat bouquet and I changed my mind, I changed it!"

"Oh my." Shane sincerely murmured
"Well....now you have to deal with your meat bouquet consequences" Emma stated with a pat on the back. My daughter is hard core, and a lot like me. So I tried to suck it up.

"But the note....But the note I put.." I whined.

"Nothing can beat this meat (bouquet)...."

Ooooh there was MORE, that was just the LESS embarrassing part.

Listen. in the Game of life love and happiness. I have none. Okay. Absolutely zero game. I am not smooth or suave and I have absolutely NO idea what I am doing most everyday.

Needless to say, the bouquet was sent and off it went. I wish I could tell all of you that he responded by saying that I was the woman of his dreams. But that is not the case.

He did respond by thanking me politely. And I, in response, have tried to ignore the fact that it happened.

Listen, I don't care what the professionals say, ignoring something works. (most times)

In the end, I don't regret doing it. It was bad ass and gutsy.....something all women should be. But maybe save the bouquet of meat for someone who throws off the sparks. Or maybe, when given the choice, choose the bear.

Clamp & Turn.

My adult life is all about making things work. Isn't that the way it goes?

Life is good. It is not perfect, but perfecity is a filter on #instagram anyway.

About 2 years ago my dryer died. "That's fine we have the sun!" I proclaimed to my children, and we air dried our clothes on our front porch.

In the rain or on cloudy days I have set up a high tech system of fans in my laundry room that will do the job just fine. Whatever. It works.

About a month ago. My washer died.

It had been acting a bit "funny" but I tried to do the adult thing and ignore the situation because. That works. (mostly never)

So my washer died. 

I mourned her properly, melting to my knees and moaning "Whyyyyyyyyyyy have you forsaken me!" 

I never got an answer. Dead machines tell no tales and when I kicked it (because that sometimes helps) It just dented.

On Monday I had appointments so I was off of work when Emma texted me "Javier and his dad are bringing a set after school. When you have time, maybe move the old ones?"

Woohoo. A free washer! Now to move it.

"So....Your sister got us a washer and dryer.We have to like...move those ones." I walked into my kitchen and told Shane. Gesturing into the laundry room nonchalantly.

"Ummm....OOOoookay." Shane looked into the laundry room and then back at me.

He looked nervous.

He should look nervous.

I am not a handy person. That's what my ex-husband did. All the handy "man" stuff like changing the oil and replacing things and fixing things and moving things and mowing things. That stuff.

I did the cute things like cook dinner and plan vacations and make things pretty and BE pretty and raise kids and make THEM pretty. That stuff.

Needless to say that since our divorce when things break I usually kick it, move around it or try to ignore it.(or make it pretty)

"Let's do it Shane! We can do anything!" I say leading us into the laundry room with a jaunt in my step.

"Yes. Okay." Shane towered over me rubbing his chin.

"What do we do first?" I ask him.

"How am I supposed to know?" He answered

"Ummmm because you have a PENIS. Duh." I rolled my eyes up at him.

"That is not the way this works. I may have a penis but YOU'RE my mom and YOU raised me." he reasoned.

"Fuck." I muttered

"Indeed." He muttered back.

"Needless to say we are very smart and intelligent women who can do this."

"Gee. Thanks." 

"My pleasure. First....lets move this thingie." I said, hitting the top of the drier. 

And so we did.

I was quite proud of us, me in my pink walmart jammies and my son. 

"Look at us, we are practically men!" I huffed at Shane as we moved the dryer out to the front yard.

"DO you think the tweakers will take this? They've been picky lately..." (SIDE NOTE: They took it.)

Back inside I peered at the washer. "Hmmmm It has two hose thingies. So we need to unscrew those."

I tried to unscrew it with my hands. That was a no go. "Son. Try to unscrew it with your big meaty man hands!" I exclaim and move to the side, actually thinking that he WOULD, and then we would be done.

"Mom. We need tools for this." Shane said from behind me.

"Okay....well go get one."

"Sure. Where?"

"In the tools drawer. Duh." 

"Okay....we have one of those?" 

"Well...we probably should." I climbed on top of the washer to peer closer at the offending hose thingies.

"How about go get those tools I bought you for Christmas that one year when I thought I could buy you tools and you would turn handy. Those." I said nodding. 

Inside would be the tool we needed, I just knew it!

"Mom. Those tools are not the kind of tools that we need...but sure." He walked out.

I looked at the twisty thing and I knew JUST what tool that we needed. "Oh!! We need a clamp and turn!" I yelled excitedly across the house.

"A what?!" Shane laughed. Holding out his little red tool box to me.

"A CLAMP and turn."

"There is no such tool."

"Uh...YES there is. I have seen it! Chris used one."

"That is not what it is called."

"Well that is what it should be called because you CLAMP things. and then you fucking TURN it."

"Okay...I'm picking up what you are laying down here mom, but regardless we don't HAVE a  wrench."

"A wrench?"

"Yes that is what it is called."

"Well that is just stupid." I rolled my eyes and looked with dismay at Shane's tool box. "What even are those things?"

"This is a socket set."

"Will it clamp and turn this?"

"No."

"What are those even for?"

"Tightening and loosening bolts." He shrugged.

"What if we use a can opener?" I suggest.

"Whaaaaat? No...just no."

"WAIT! Hear me out! Listen!! Old people use can openers to open things sometimes." I say...waiting for him to see what a genius I was.

"Yeah...yeah...jars mom. Not washing machines."

I hold up my hand gesturing to him and then me.... "What are WE even doing?!"

"Neither of us knows."

And then it happens. I realize that I am sitting on top of my broken washing machine, trying to reason using a can opener as a tool with my son.

Laughter ensues.

I laugh so hard that I am hunching over the back of the washing machine on my knees.

"Oh no." I hear Shane behind me. "Mom get off the machine. You're going to fall."

"Nooooooo I CAN'T!" I wheeze out between gafaws. "I have to do this!....this is so stupid.....clamp and turrrrrrrn!"

I laugh for 15 minutes, until my laughs turn into hiccups and between hiccups I wipe my eyes.

"You okay now?" Shane asks.

"Sorta..." I sigh

"Why sorta?" Shane's face pinches in worry.

"I pee'd a little." I shrug.

Shane sighs.

It became clear that the can opener wouldn't work (I tried) so I "Fixed myself" and texted Emma. 

Soon enough Emma's friend Javier and his dad come, baring a washing machine and a dryer.

"Did you bring the clamp and turn?" I ask Javiers dad.

His eyebrows raise.

I have never met this man and I am still in my pink walmart Jammies. 

"This, she means this." Emma holds up the clamp and turn. 

"YOU are a good girl." I say and turn back to enter the laundry room. Soon enough it becomes apparent that It doesn't fit.

"This clamp and turn isn't the right size." I turn back and hold it up to show Javiers dad. He smirks at me and says "It's adjustable."

He smirked. SMIRKED at me.

Whatever, beggars can't be choosers and I am sick of hand washing my underwear.

"Oh. Look, I appreciate you so much. I can't do this. I'm not good at this boy stuff. I tried. The can opener didn't even work." I shrugged like he should understand and handed him back his tool.

He looked at me like I was crazy and Emma whispered "Hey ma, why don't you go sit down and relax. Read your book maybe."

She smiled. She is such a good girl. "You want me to go sit down? Isn't that rude? I feel like that is rude."

"Nope." She answered and Javier shook his head.

Look. I know my kid was embarrassed by my lack of tool knowledge but here's the thing. I couldn't give a shit about tools. I am not one of those women who has to do everything that boys can do.

Nope. Not me. 

I don't want to do it. 

SO I went to sit down and yes, I read my book.

Later everyone joined me in the living room where Javiers dad proclaimed the washer ready. "It doesn't look to be leaking, but I don't know how to turn it on so can you?"

"Sure! Thank you so much!" I gushed, leading them into the laundry room. I looked at the water knobs. "Turn these on?" I questioned. 

"No...no...I did that. I just you know...I don't know how to turn THAT on." He said, pointing to the washing machine.

"Oh. Ohhhhhhh! You don't know how to work a washing machine?"

"Yeah...no. I don't." He whispered.

I laughed out loud and turned the knob. "No problem. That I can handle." He smiled at me and I thanked him profusely and smirked back.