So I was at a Chamber of Commerce event with my husband a year or so ago (I'm not into these things at all, but they had yummy apps and gave you 2 drink tickets, so what's a girl to do?) when a lovely girl standing at the door holding a bucket-type-thingy asked me to drop in my business card. I told her that my Hot Mama O Rama business cards were being reprinted - I was fresh out. I thought this was really funny. My husband rolled his eyes and tried to lose me among the chaos that was the cheese board. Anyway, I posted this as my facebook status.
Fast forward a month or so, when I'm headed to Gina's house. Gina is one of my best friends from college and she is like a sister to me. When she turned 40 (am I allowed to say that she's 40? She may kill me.) we went to Nassau to meet up with her girlfriends from PA where she used to live. I fell in love with them immediately - they are beyond faboo (well, all except one but we swore to never speak of her again) and we had SO much fun together. Anyway, one of those faboo ladies, Erica, was coming up to Gina's for the weekend and I wanted to see her so I went over. When Erica got out of the car she handed me a gift bag with tissue paper and ribbons. I was baffled - it was not my birthday or anything. Then I saw Erica's face - a little grin and grimacing eyes, then I knew she was up to something. Turns out she was the delivery lady - another of those faboo ladies, Kellicious (Kelli to the untrained), had business cards printed up for her real estate business. She printed some for me, too.
Here's the front:
and here's the back:
I LOVE THEM. I carry them around with me and have been known to autograph a couple of them before handing them out to friends.
But being a Hot Mama O Rama has its share of responsibilities - I don't take the task lightly. When I carry the cards I feel like I must exude Hot Mama a bit more than when I don't...and if anyone asks, I have the cards to back it up.
Anyone can be a Hot Mama O Rama, no matter how old you are or what you look like. It's all about how you feel. I'm not always a Hot Mama O Rama - I have my non Hot Mama days, just like everyone. You can be a Hot Mama O Rama in your grubbiest clothes, on your most bloated days, if you mentally decide that you ARE a Hot Mama O Rama, dammit. And usually I find that if you fake it, you'll start believing it. True story.
Cute shoes help, I'm not gonna lie.
And when I just can't be a Hot Mama O Rama, I stay in the house. No one needs to be subjected to that. Except Sean. And my boys. And the dog.
But seriously, try cute shoes.