Do you blast? You should.

Nothing better to tune out your crazy gremlins living in your small house…. then to BLAST music. Like BLAST. Like blast so loud you can hear your mother or your own brain say, "TURN IT DOWN". Nope. I need to focus. I'm still from the generation where BLASTING music is in. I think. 

When i work, aka fill orders, think creatively (yes that does happen), address packages, add love-notes to clients (you gotta be a client to find out what that means), or bang out a blog post, i BLAST. Randomly one night in past week, i wrote down the song titles that get me going… It's actually comical. 

This is a glimpse at my line-up:

Call on me (by Eric Prydx): takes you back to the good-old-days of primary school… Or high-school. Definitely not middle-school. Well.. Think of whatever year of schooling that makes u feel cool. Embrace that special moment. Yes call on me. BUT especially when my hand IS raised. (By the way, if i'm looking away locking eyes with anyone but you, forgive me i didn't read the actual book for book club). ANYHOW In today's world, it's ALL about being called on in this virtual crazy world, known as ONLINE…  Since launching myself ONLINE, aka this small business called Fouta Colors, i've learned a few things… THE GOAL is not to be discrete and keep to yourself. It's to engage. It's a crazy concept involving being called-out with emojis winking at you, aka asking you to collaborate on Instragram entry… anyone? If u over the age of 48, google emoji. Or if u've been living under a rock (side-note a BFF had to show me how to access emojis on my phone… like a year ago. So don't feel bad, google it). 

Chase You Down (by Runaground): um… I'm not THAT desperate for sales. Am i? Or does this refer to chasing my kids so they don't get hit by a bicycle (true story. people in CA take bike lines VERY seriously) or car? 

Lights (by Ellie Goulding): may be there lights, action, and dancing. I haven't gotten the desire to stand up and twerk (yes i do know what that is), but maybe… Maybe if Madonna comes onto my apple radio… Again above the age of 48, google my friend. And don't do this googling at work. 

Cool girl (by Tove Lo): well yes i am. and i hope that this artist butchered the name given to him by parents… because that's not pretty. Who names their kid TOVO… But certainly original. This artist MUST live in California. 

I remember (by Deadman5 & Kaskade): well let's be honest, i don't remember. i forget the laundry and re-wash most laundry 3 times before it makes it to dryer… I forget to get basic things to cook, like the actual chicken for a chicken tortilla soup… I forget a lot... It could be worst… I have yet to forget my kids at various places. I think i'm doing mighty good. BUT i do always remember how many DIET COKES are in the house. That, i'll remember. Priorities. Survival. Addiction. If only i was addicted to carrots…

Broccoli (by D.R.A.M): I'm not joking. Broccoli is the title. its a pretty vile song too… i'll spare u details of lyrics, but google it when wearing headphones. This applies to all. Not just those over age 48. BTW Don't let your kids listen to this one. Don't let the delicious veggie-titled-song steer you wrong. 

This Girl (by Kungs and Cookin' on 3 burners): i couldn't even come up with these band's name if i tried… I gotta educate myself on these 3 burners as sounds like terrible way to cook. My only cooking involves only 2 burners going at one time...

False Alarm (by Matoma & Becky Hill): ANY person of childbearing age or in a relationship with a woman of childbearing age can only think of one thing when they see "false alarm": the baby is indeed asleep, false alarm. Agh if i had a penny for every phantom cry… I can't even finish this sentence. Next. 

Call on me (by Eric Prydx): yes just download this one already. Seriously. And when kids are crying, whining, or hungry, blast it. This is appropriate for all ages. 

Blast. Blast. Blast. It's appropriate for all, below and above 48. Just ask my mother. 

Next. CALIFORNIA…

So if you don't know me, you'll soon find out that I'm a NEW transplant to the one and only LOS ANGELES, CA. City of dreams. City of sun kissed bodies. City of tech (well in the "valley" so i'm told). City of ridiculously expensive real estate. City of perfection. City of perfect bodies. Perfect. Just perfect for me, i'll fit right in. Hubby and kids in tow, we set out to discover the West Coast. 

Discovering means looking for EXACTLY what you need. or want. or both. I dove RIGHT into chaos. Loving the traffic (not the screams or snoring in backseat aka no nap at home). Loving the beach (i've always dreamed of living at the beach. And this one is particularly spectacular). As NEW tourist in this crazy city, we set off every week to discover LA. I can confirm there's LOTS to see, do, eat, smell (good and bad), and all must be done before beating traffic home. 

I know everyone is DYING TO KNOW THE TRUTH. You won't be disappointed. Let's get to it:

Confirmed revelations in LA:

1. BEAUTY. People really are more beautiful than ANYWHERE else. The only exception might be Nice, in the south of France during the Cannes festival (event in which all the celebrities from here go there… duh). This town may not be full of natural beauty, but still full of beautiful people. 

2. IN SHAPE. Everyone is working out everywhere. By everyone i mean, 9 months pregnant 43-year-old-mama doing stroller class, 79 years-old grandma with bad hip doing taychi, and of course 1 year old doing yoga. ALL at the same time. It turns out people do workout SEVEN DAYS A WEEk. So there's no excuse really. Perfect for me. 

3. TRAFFIC. Traffic really is the worst… Sorry ATL, Paris, NYC, you lose. LA is the REAL winner. 

4. CHEESE DIP. There's no cheese dip in Mexican restaurant. There are millions of Cantinas, no cheese dip. When i say million, i mean literally a million mexican restaurants. So me and my people should fit right in, given our LOVE for mexican. So back to the cheese...Yes this was DEVASTATING to my oldest who basically lives on cheese dip, beans, rice, and avocado slices. It took a day trip to Huntington beach to find out this town was keeping it all. It was glorious. She may have cried she was so happy (or tired. not quite sure). 

5. BLONDES Blondes do rule… agh. As a brunette, i never lose an opportunity to promote my kind, but I'm losing by ten of thousands here. I'll accept it in 2 years. And no worries, there will be NO transformation of any kind in regards to color. A brazilian blowout maybe, but I'm sticking to what works for me. And my husband will divorce me if i go blonde. Another reason to stay with the brunette look. 

6. SPEED. California has the reputation of calm, go with the flow, keep it cool attitude. Well i guess it either doesn't apply to LA. Or doesn't apply to the road. MASSIVE ROAD RAGE GALORE. I'm talking getting-out-of-car-at-stoplight, or knocking/beating on cars with your fists or simply spitting series of cuss words in any directions. Of course all this when my windows are down, and sunroof open. This becomes a teachable moment: yes child you don't do that. and yes child i have no idea where this comes from. yes child, don't tell your dad. 

7. CARS. Land of beautiful people in their beautiful cars. Specifically only certain brands FLOOD the streets : Lexus, BMW, AUDI, Infinity, Mercedes, and of course and most importantly ferrari, Maserati, and many cars that look like they cost more than our rental house. Of course, i'm told many of these are LEASES. My Honda sits quietly and patiently in traffic, and i won't have coronary when someone takes out the garbage can with my car. Not naming anyone i'm married to… Tough owned cookie shall survive the next 2 years. 

8. Antiseptic pumps: they LOVE antiseptic everything. It's freely available everywhere. Grocery store, gas station, moms' group tables, park… If you can physically get there, antiseptic dispenser is there… And if not, there's a stroller close-by with a pump attached. Or it's the ginormous homeless population creating the frenzy of antiseptic availability. 

I'm sure this list will grow but that's all i got folks. Month in, 8 news-shattering discoveries! What did i miss...

Yep i need that. NOW.

Friends, family, new acquaintances, and new partners, anyone really, often kindly ask, um… foutas? really...? why…? If they are REALLY being nice, it's something along the lines, "HOW IN THE WORLD, did you get into selling FOUTAS"!!!! It's not a common word… It's actually an ugly word. It's awkward to pronounce. From my coworkers, it was more "and as an active NP in a major ER, what gives…" Well i went crazy… Not 1013 crazy, but close (ER code for call security, as this is your moment to flip out, because your papers are now signing-you-in for 48hrs. your short stay comes with complimentary glasses of water and hospital sandwiches. Yum). In my incredibly sleep-deprived brain, I thought: the American market NEEDS THIS. I NEED THIS. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE MOST AMAZING THING. Ever. 

And anyways how hard can launching a small-business be??? I'll toss a few hours a week at it, and all will be ok. Oye. I never said i was a smart-cookie. Let's be honest, this would be the perfect avenue to express my creativity... I sure did. That ran out after 3 Instragram posts. Back to oye. So i went to school to master the chaos in the ER. Well turns out, so did the masters of small-businesses startups. So did the MASTERS of social media… Again mentioning social media. I'll stop i promise. Turns out, a MBA could be useful right-about-NOW. As I'm learning ALL about the chaos, the tricks, the shenanigans, the twists, the rage, the disappointment, the fun of launching, the i-cant-do-this moments, the partners, the FIRST sale feeling,, i realize this might have been covered in MBA class 101… Oops. 

Back to the story at hand. Well this one day…About a year ago, a light-bulb went off… Kind of. It was more of a striking like getting hit-in-the-face-moment, than magical light-bulb moment if I'm being honest. Picture this: a sky full of stars, little breeze blowing, glass of bubbles nearby, kids happily playing quietly, husband smiling , and i say to myself: I can do this. I got this… Well my moment was nothing like this. As I pride myself on being truthful, the real scene involved rain, smell of curdled milk, and tears. Yes my BIG moment was full of rain… it was a sign. Being in a magical place (south of France in July, pre-any French people around. They only take their month of vacation in August), it rained. 

So my ah-ah moment came to be after a few days of torrential rain, and finding out the hard way that my outdoor plastic-piece-of-crap-drying rack (France doesn't like to give their rental houses actual dryers… I'm not even getting into that right now) was losing to rain. Shocking a piece of crap failing me… This smart mama had left all the laundry including towels out. For days. Come on, i totally thought the sun would help… I still think my Target towels are STILL trying to dry over there. Let's be truthful: I NEEDED a fouta desperately to make MY life easier. I needed a DRY fouta like yesterday. 

Back to the rain, crap drying-rack, and FOUTAS. When i discovered foutas, it fit a simple need. A need to get rid of my soaked Target smelly and HEAVY towels. I was in paradise, and i was slightly overtaken by 3 giant repulsive-smelly-towels (my kids clearly couldn't share a towel, even though i could share with my husband). Anyhow I would wash them nightly and the stench of curdled formula would NOT leave my nostrils. As any great tourist heading to the beach, I took my gremlins for walks in the village marche, where you find beautiful tourists strutting their stuff. This tourist was only strutting her smelly, wet, disgusting towels alongside her 30lbs- 9-months-old (before the comments start, i don't remember how much he weighed BUT everyone wanted to hold him BUT just for few minutes, which really meant seconds. he was a giant. still is). So FOUTAS were like the universe saying, stop carrying heavy non-dry-repulsive towels.  TRADE THEM IN PLEASE FOR A FOUTA. PLEASE. And i did. I jumped. With both feet. And i did all this on the before-last-day of my month vacation… I never said i was smart cookie, but just a practical imperfect one. So i took a few extra foutas home...

Turns out, foutas are actually a family business. My cousin Valerie in Singapore was already master-sales-lady of foutas, with moms selling all over the world for her. She kindly took me under her wing, and sent me into the world of creating a website and shooting inventory pictures… And into the world of dealing with Atlanta customs, declarations, and the "kind" and "awesome" officers policing ALL the cargo at the busiest airport in the world (i saw the most BEAUTIFUL ferrari when attempting to locate ANYONE to help me with my fouta boxes. i didn't dream this one. i saw it for real). The rest is history… 

That's our story. That's Fouta Colors's story. 

Perfectly Imperfect.

Chaos? Moi? ABSOLUTELY. It knocks me in the head (or behind the knees) daily. Like several times everyday.  I wait for it. I welcome it now. When it doesn't show up by 9am (we start early at our house), i wonder what the world is sending me now. 

My morning used to be easy-peasy (sarcasm emoji inserted, why doesn't it exist yet. one day), and now it involves a much bigger beast: social media. Putting aside my oldest who FREAKS out the moment her feet hit the ground, and my happy youngest who LOVES to wake at 5am happily screaming MAMA (now that's just too early for anyone), I have to log onto the various social media outlets without giving myself a stroke at 7am… 

As a new business owner, I have a love-hate relationship with social media. The Snapchat (i'm too old. i still truly believe it was founded to have affairs as pictures of your junk is "hidden"), the Instagram (clever way to make all your friends jealous with your vacation pictures in the middle of January), Twitter (i can't even go there), Pinterest (the place to find all the things you wish you had energy to do), and Facebook (i'm forever loyal Mark. No worries, i got your back) are intense. I'm not even mentioning the rest of them that would require a google search for me to recall… Social media is "simple" as in it's simply a platform of perfection. Yes i said it. The dreaded truth. And this one doesn't have time for perfection. And I don't have the gift of perfection. 

For example, my oldest is getting ready to head off to preschool again(yes there's like 4 levels in preschool. don't ask. i hope we actually graduate from preschool...), and needs a million things. My perfection brain was thinking, oh this is for me, i got this: a matching pink-gingham backpack with its matching water bottle, beautiful sheet set, stunning soft pink blanket, and beautiful super-hero doll to send her off with positives vibes. What she went to school with: day 1, no backpack. I forgot it in the car… Day 2: a Finding Dory blanket, pink cup (with the price tag on it), green backpack (with a stain), and ballerina doll (NOT the cool superhero doll i had picked out). Nothing matching. All hot mess… Perfectly imperfect. Did she survive her first days? Absolutely. Her younger brother, not so much. He's lonely… He has co-dependency issues, already. 

Dying to read another example? I get "inspired" by this crazy friend i should un-friend on Facebook. I just can't keep up… How does a mom produce Pinterest-worthy-meals at 6pm after her oldest's soccer game (pictures posted LIVE of course). If i do the math, and i can count, you are technically still at the game, when your Pinterest healthy meal was produced (because i know your schedule). And your house… when posting cute picture of your infant eating carrots (well "eating" is a strong word), the house is IMMACULATE. how did that happen… and you must be actively be house-hunting during dinner, because NO ONE LIVES there. We all know that your house is ONLY immaculate for your realtor (very familiar with this as our house currently sits on the market. Best way to waste our money). 

Enough criticism. This is about being perfectly imperfect. If this was a test, i would score HIGH. I'm taking a shot in the dark by ackowledging that clearly the mom described above is an alien, and that's how she gets it done. So below is how things actually look... It's a beautiful chaotic mess. I should be ashamed, but proudly I'm not (Maman, don't roll your eyes. Sis don't applaud too loudly). This is what a house looks like when 4 people and a dog occupy it. It's perfectly imperfect. 

Enjoy criticizing my house. I do. Until i remain myself that I'm perfectly imperfect. 

20 facts about me...

Let's be honest. We are all creatures seeking the nitty-gritty-details about others. Otherwise WHY would we ever log onto Facebook, Snapchat, Instragram, Tumbler, Twitter, Pinterest, or Google. However, news-flaish: the BEST way to discover details about anyone is to read their blog… No joke. The internet is FULL of blogs. Yes I've been living under a rock. And yes, NOW i know what a blog is.

I set myself on this tiny mission to read EVERY blog written by ANYONE who launched a business… (btw there's only 5 millions of these blogs. I read a lot). My mission remained to find the deep ugly truth: what makes ANYBODY start a business. Besides pure sheer craziness… That's a given. Duh. I needed more elaborate answers. I needed honesty. And by the way i started reading these blogs AFTER I launched. Genius i know. So I find honesty in blogs refreshing and helpful. So i'm passing on the torch to the next reader looking for answers by divulging details about ME.

 By listing TWENTY shocking items, I'm giving an honest glimpse of myself. Enjoy. 

1. I'm an addict… yes the first step is admitting you have a problem. I'm well aware. I'm addicted to all the good stuff. The food (chips and salsa to be specific), the iPhone, the Instragram, the pictures of my kids in non-traditional places (sigh from all those who aren't parents yet. yes seeing my kid lay down and nap in the middle of restaurant is worthy of FB), using the word "the" before all my addiction… Maybe i should take up, the-addicted-to-husband for some brownie points? Just being honest. 

2. i love shopping… it shall come as no surprise that i launched a site that combines shopping with color. Let's be honest, this was bound to happen. 

3. I love books… they make the world go around. The spicier the cover, the better. I'm not talking about trash books (love those too), but more "let the adventure begin". "life is a canvas". yes I'm random. Don't get me started on a certain invention where your finger "turn" the page with a swipe. Travesty. 

4. I'm a proud daughter... Shocked u, didn't i… I'm giving my parents credit? Sure am! They put up with me all the years during the good, bad and downright ugly. We always ponder our answers to the question: who are you? Well I'm a mother, I'm a wife, i'm a woman. But I'm a daughter? Not so much. Are we seriously skipping over the pure fact that without them i wouldn't be A. in existence B. the entrepreneur that i've become (ps. i've only worked in Emergency rooms, NEVER in marketing, NEVER social media, NEVER in business. All good, i got this) C. this special wife, mother and friend. So back to the topic: I'm a proud daughter. 

5. I'm a homebody… This may make a few cringe. I enjoy sitting on the patio with a light breeze, and beverage taking in my day. Let's be honest: i enjoy my bed early with a diet coke by my side. I'm well aware that caffeine is supposed to make you awake and not sleepy. Just keep reading. Or skimming.

6. I LOVE red… Shocker. I know. Yes all of it. the Big Apple Red nail polish, the hair color ( I'm a brunette so I'm not promoting my own hair color. Who does that), the nameless-red-sole-$700-shoes, the color of the sky at sunset, and even a red baby-wipe case. 

7. My shoe size is 9… I dreamed of being a lifer stuck at 8.5 but these kids made my nose fat and my feet forever 9s. Really. Let's be honest, there are worst places on my body to "remember" my kids by. And no one wants to read about that. 

8. I LOVE flats... This sounds very contradicting after reading about the shall-remain-nameless-red-sole-shoes… But it's the truth. NOTHING will beat flats. Ever. Not tennis shoes (athletic people recognize these), not Danskos (medical peeps know these), not stilettos (wowza how do my fellow friends were these ALL day and not just 2hrs at a restaurant), not platforms (let's be honest they hurt just like stilettos). Flats. And no I'm not 55… But plantar fasciitis is no joke. And by the way, flats are totally becoming a "thing". I think. 

9. My kids drive me crazy… Let's be honest, you don't want to read about this. It's just a fact, simply stating facts. 

10. I dream of a big family… Keyword: dream. If only I was 10 years younger and a billionaire, i would have 5 kids. My two are killing me slowly just fine. Again let's be honest, you don't want to read about this. Just providing facts. 

 11. I love morning time… who doesn't? Apperently many cities don't wake until 10am (i won't list such cuties but there are on the West Coast, South-ish). Well at that point, I've been on a walk to drain my kids' energy, cooked banana pancakes (delicious. Pinterest that for sure), and been to the beach and back. However, noon hits, I'm done. Nap-time is at 1230 for my toddlers for a reason. 

l2. I loathe traffic… I moved from one insanely-annoying-crazy traffic city to the #1 rated worst. So clearly i enjoy to punish myself… Let's be honest, we all dream of just sitting there burning gas. Making the world a better place by staying close to my house. 

13. I'm a little inpatient… This is tough reveal. Who wants to reveal that? ME. I have many flaws, but that's a big one… It works very well while raising kids.  

14. I'm sarcastic… Another great reveal. Aren't we all… a little? This business owner certainly is. And turns out some people don't appreciate this quality. Shocking i know. As I'm dealing with French boutiques, Turquish factories, and Tunisians saleswomen, I'm learning. Turns out it doesn't translate well to other countries… Let's be honest, i should know better. I think i've been overseas before...

15. I'm totally sappy… Send me an inspirational quote, and I tear up. A patient thanks me for giving her a cup of water, my eyes water. And this is not hormonal folks. This is my natural state. Friends tell me they will miss, i dismiss them with "keep your composure", and walk away to sob on my own. Again very useful in the business world. 

16. I'm a paper girl… No i don't hate plastic (my sister is the one that does). Meaning my iPhone calendar isn't empty because I'm a homebody, but because all the little details of my life are tightly spaced in my PAPER planner. Oh yeah, that's big reveal. What serious businesswoman uses paper: this lady. I LOVE my colored pens too…  

17. I support small-businesses... You work alone. Your work hard. You work LONG hours. You can't compete with Target (yet), and the reward is slow. BUT you always get my support! I'm a sucker for a beautiful website with beautiful inventory. Again back to the, "I love shopping" fact… 

18. I LOVE FOUTAS… Yes this is a Fouta Colors site, but seriously i LOVE THEM. I keep stealing from my inventory because once i see it, i want it. Great business plan, i'm well aware. I think this fits under "addiction" fact. I just find uses for them. They are the color in our home! Any problem can be fixed with a fouta. Having imaginary friends over for dinner, throw a fouta over moving boxes. Pouf gone. And beautiful. 

19. I love color… Tagging onto the bullet above, i love color, and foutas are the colors in our lives. You wouldn't know this stepping into our house as we are a white-dominated house, but the pop of color is everywhere (including my toes). I embrace and welcome color!

20. I'm in love with my hubby… always save the best for last. So you can gather that the Fouta Color owner has 2 kiddos, loves Diet Coke, and has a husband. 

21. I am a suck-up… I love you babe (you get two full bullets :). Let's be honest, you can never rack up enough brownie points in a marriage. 

Enjoy your morning, afternoon, evening, or whatever few moments you had to read this post. 

Check back with me soon… Working on a blog schedule with my beautiful paper planner. 

This is the START.

Good morning. Good afternoon. Good evening. Good-whenever-you-get-a-few-moments-to-read. 

First blog entry for FOUTA COLORS, or any colors, or brand, or life-style blog, or family blog. This is it. My one and only. So be prepared. Prepared for flaws. Prepared for truth. Prepared for errors. BUT be prepared for improvement. For dreams. For life. For earth-shattering-secrets (well not so much on the last one). 

As I attempt to write this, I'm taking in the senses around me for inspiration. Sound. Sound of the airplane above. Sound of the banging of tools at the newest McMansion construction nearby. Sound of horrific blowers blaring throughout the neighborhood. Sound of sprinkler (yes they make sounds, soft, soft sweet sound), alongside the roaring laughter of my kids, quickly followed by the sound of an angry he-didnt-wait-his-turn-screams. Sounds. 

Sound is taken over by his friend, thoughts. By thoughts of work. Thoughts of my kids have been surpassed as they are physically touching me as they need assistance with their "spicy" water, aka sparking water. So back to business: How do I manage the daily show of my life AND business? You shall discover the secret at the end of this post… You are now forced to continue your art of scrolling-fast-thru-all-content to reach my secret potion. 

Back to my thoughts and magical morning, my thoughts are ALWAYS taken over by the image of beautiful magical places that we may all get to visit once, at least in our dreams. This is where i WANT TO BE:

“And this is WHERE I AM. Almost the same...”

“So are you still reading to hear about the MAGIC SECRET: the secret to managing these two beasts that i call LIFE and BUSINESS: I don’t… Did i just divulge that indeed i-cant-have-it-all??? Somedays, many days, it’s about choosing the immediate… Does my daughter REALLY need to pee with ALL of her dolls at this particular moment (apparently she requires an elaborate setup of all 5 Elsa dolls to “watch” over her), or do i thank the latest FOUTA buyer with a personal hand-written note (because ALL the website about ecommerce say that is is a MUST. I got time, right?)
Decisions. Decisions. I made a decision, that’s a start… Right? Until next time…
PS. the buyer won… and my daughter had her first accident in over a year… Oh Elsa.
Until next time...”