Our clubhouse experience began with the nicest gatekeeper ever. The security guard in the building that houses the Bravo clubhouse was named Mike, and he was the nicest guy.
The next nicest person in the world was Anthony, a production assistant, who tended bar for the very small studio audience, there were about 20 of us. Anthony was so friendly and personable. He did a fabulous job of corralling us all into the studio and prompting us to clap when applause was required. He also gave us great swag as a parting gift.
We just happened to start a conversation with this guy who turned out to be the on air bartender for the night, a model promoting underwear, which he wore on air. His name was Austin, and he told us he was also an ex marine who did a tour in Iraq. He was a great person to talk to, and he showed us a picture of his beautiful daughter. Good luck to him in his career and with his family.
The moment of truth came, and the live show began on time. The guests were the ladies of Jersey Shore who were all beautiful, genuine, and great sports for Andy's game which tested their vocabulary skills. It was great laughs. While in the clubhouse, they still offered and served us drinks. It was cool.
The show wrapped and then they filmed the web show. We got a full hour of the festivities wrapping up with the ladies doing a shot ski with Andy. Good luck Jersey Shore ladies you have definitely left your mark on American TV.
We were asked to stay behind while everyone else exited with their giveaway so Andy could say hi and take pictures with us. It was great. He remembered us from the auction and gave us more swag to take home. Andy Cohen and his staff are what's all good about reality TV. They were all so gracious and down to earth i.e. 'real.'
Andy even signed a copy of his book, Most Talkative, for me personally. Thank you Andy Cohen for being the host with the most. You represent St. Louis well.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
NYC on a Wednesday 11/28
A whole year ago my husband and I failed miserably at an attempt to cash in on our best charity auction item to date. We won the bid to visit Andy Cohen at the Bravo clubhouse for a taping of his talk show Watch What Happens live!
Well I say failed because my son fell ill and I raced home to take care of him, missing our scheduled time to see the show. But the charity and the very gracious Bravo team extended the privilege. So here we are a year later in NYC.
So the hubby and I just landed at Laguardia airport. We had two hopes as we checked in at St. Louis airport. My husband's wish, "please let there be an option for an upgrade." My wish, "please let there be good magazines on the shelves."
There was no upgrade available so I suggested to my husband that we buy the one day pass to the Admiral's Club, we did. Going through security proved to be a slow and necessarily arduous process. We smiled and complied to the end; but I thought I wouldn't have time to shop for mags; and my husband thought he wouldn't get the chance to try the Admiral's Club. We prevailed.
I was fortunate enough to get an Ebony with Ms. Bravo herself on the cover, NeNe Leakes. I also got two St. Louis specific mags, great research for a hopeful socialite. My husband got his free Bloody Mary, and I was even able to join him when I checked at our gate and saw that boarding hadn't begun.
Our fabulous flight to NYC ended with my husband suggesting we go to the Admiral's Club again instead of rushing out of the airport. It is 3p on a Wednesday, my son won't be done at school until 7, and we don't head to the Bravo clubhouse until 10p so why rush.
The Admiral's Club is awesome but the one at Laguardia is better than awesome. Can you say marble steps people and a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline. Life is truly better than good for this girl from the west side of Chicago. Let's hope it gets better once we see Watch What Happens live with the Jersey Shore ladies as the guest.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Attitude of Gratitude
Thanksgiving could not have been better if I tried. I had my hubby and my four kids all safe, healthy, and together ready to celebrate a holiday at home. We have usually packed up the car, the dogs, and all the personal stuff four kids require and gone to a relatives house with us staying in two hotel rooms.
As this year wraps up I just wanted to stay home. Earlier this year, my daughter's apartment was robbed of only her Mac, my 17 year old is away from home attending New York Film Academy and he braved Hurricane Sandy unscathed. What I have learned from these two events is that prayer certainly works. My son's housing complex remained intact and untouched by the devastation around him. The unsavory neighbors in my daughter's building have been evicted. Prayer works people.
The hubby and I were set to visit NYC the week after Thanksgiving so I did not insist that my son come home for the holidays since it was a first for us anyway. On the night before Thanksgiving I was expecting my daughter after work. She arrived about 11 pm and I was prepared to kiss her hello and leave her to sleep in her old room. But following behind her to give me a kiss hello as well was my son. My husband surprised me by flying him home for the holiday. I usually hate surprises but I am beginning to rethink that position.
Putting my arms around my son and kissing his face was more than enough to be thankful for. Christmas at the Williams-Nelson home had come early. We stayed up all night talking and laughing. The heartbreak one feels when sending your kids off into the wide world is forgotten completely with the joy that comes from them coming home or better still wanting to come home.
I am thankful that the roots and wings I gave them are still firmly in tact. I am more than thankful when they talk amongst themselves and I hear kind words about me. Needless to say, I made everyone's favorite side dishes and 3 pies to go along with our cornish hens.
We ate dinner at about 7 o'clock and played board games all night. We laughed until we cried, fell out on the floor, and some of us peed our pants.
I am rounding out the year with an Attitude of Gratitude for the people in my life who matter the most, the comforts that make taking care of my family still a joy, and the health and safety of us all.
God is very real and prayer works wonders for my bratty disposition.
Take care of you,
Mogul Mom
As this year wraps up I just wanted to stay home. Earlier this year, my daughter's apartment was robbed of only her Mac, my 17 year old is away from home attending New York Film Academy and he braved Hurricane Sandy unscathed. What I have learned from these two events is that prayer certainly works. My son's housing complex remained intact and untouched by the devastation around him. The unsavory neighbors in my daughter's building have been evicted. Prayer works people.
The hubby and I were set to visit NYC the week after Thanksgiving so I did not insist that my son come home for the holidays since it was a first for us anyway. On the night before Thanksgiving I was expecting my daughter after work. She arrived about 11 pm and I was prepared to kiss her hello and leave her to sleep in her old room. But following behind her to give me a kiss hello as well was my son. My husband surprised me by flying him home for the holiday. I usually hate surprises but I am beginning to rethink that position.
Putting my arms around my son and kissing his face was more than enough to be thankful for. Christmas at the Williams-Nelson home had come early. We stayed up all night talking and laughing. The heartbreak one feels when sending your kids off into the wide world is forgotten completely with the joy that comes from them coming home or better still wanting to come home.
I am thankful that the roots and wings I gave them are still firmly in tact. I am more than thankful when they talk amongst themselves and I hear kind words about me. Needless to say, I made everyone's favorite side dishes and 3 pies to go along with our cornish hens.
We ate dinner at about 7 o'clock and played board games all night. We laughed until we cried, fell out on the floor, and some of us peed our pants.
I am rounding out the year with an Attitude of Gratitude for the people in my life who matter the most, the comforts that make taking care of my family still a joy, and the health and safety of us all.
God is very real and prayer works wonders for my bratty disposition.
Take care of you,
Mogul Mom
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Divorcing Haters
Money can't buy one class or love and it is not the key to happiness but as Joan Rivers says, "I figure if I have enough money then I can buy myself a key."
I am officially back in writing mode. I had an online blog a long time ago and took it down when I was tempted to trash certain family members who were workin' my nerves. I later began to put my thoughts, rants, and raves in an inspiring newsletter that I mailed out quarterly. Most recently I have been working on tightening up my manuscript to get it ready for print. As I near what is sure to be a successful benchmark in my life, I realize I am hitting a lot of obstacles and roadblocks trying to steer me off course. So I am back with a bigger audience, greater presence, and an unapologetic view on the world. Turning Forty does great things to a girl's perspective.
So welcome to my blog. I am a married mom to 4 kids, two at home and two out of the house. I am a Chicago girl who resides in Missouri. I commute between the city of St. Louis and a small town called West Plains. I am a reformed people pleaser, retired restaurateur, homeschooling mom, and aspiring author. I am a full time stay at home mom, part time college student, and perpetual entrepreneur.
The theme of my first day back as a blogger is "Divorcing Haters." On my desk sits a pen holder with a quote from Ernest Hemingway that reads, "the writer must write what he has to say, not speak it." So here I sit writing with lots to say, oh where to begin. I will begin with the most prevalent issue most moguls must contend with, haters looking for handouts.
Recently my husband and I watched a program on ESPN's 30 for 30 show entitled "Broke". It acts as a cautionary tale for future professional athletes and anyone really who makes it "big." Which is to say you become a success, well known, or financially stable.
What is the tendency for those of us with humble beginnings who become financially more capable e.g., lottery winners, athletes, celebrities, rappers, or business tycoons is for friends and relatives who request and then later demand what they think is owed to them from your earnings. Money rarely changes the person who earns it. It usually changes the person who hasn't earned it but thinks they are entitled to it. The earner knows the hours of hard work that go into making that money while the entitled only sees what the money can do to add to their façade of happiness.
It begins with the first gift. Some switch gets flipped in the mind of a taker the instant they are given a gift they really don't deserve. More times than not the people we lavish gifts upon are those who were witness to our struggle towards success. They weren't supporters or cheerleaders in anyway. Often they were naysayers in fact. We, the successful are happy to now say to them "see I was right to stick with my dream, it has paid off, and now surely you will accept me." But that acceptance we are looking for shows up as acceptance of the perks and hookups that surely come when one is blessed enough to earn so much that it can be shared without initially making a dent. But as the 30 for 30 film proved. The takers usually overwhelm the givers until they are depleted financially and emotionally.
So here I sit 5 years later after the family tiff that drove me away from blogging on the heels of another one all because I have the ability to say no to the takers of the world. I am a person who learns from others cautionary tales. I learn well. Poverty did not become me, being rich does. I wasn't born beautiful so having money levels the playing field quite a bit. I wasn't born male or Caucasian either so I need my money to last me as long as I am black and female. I won't bore you (any readers out there) with the details on my first day. I will allude to two stories covered by Wendy Williams this week.
Sherman Hemsley died in July and only recently will he get buried because a long lost relative showed up to contest his will. His estate was worth $50,000. Oprah Winfrey's stepmom cannot go away quietly now that she is being divorced by Vernon Winfrey until she gets access to the life being married to a mogul's father entitled her to. She doesn't want her share of his net worth she wants her share of Oprah's net worth.
This mogul mom's own net worth falls between Sherman Helmsley and Oprah's comfortably and all I did was not answer my phone when the same family member who pissed me off 5 years ago called with another emergency. So the grapevine was all a flutter with talks about my bold gesture to just not answer my phone. When did I become the bank of the family. My aunt dealt with similar issues in our large family until she feigned her own broke status did the beggars and takers leave her alone. But I don't intend to experience fake, real, or imagined brokenness in order to experience peace with my own money. I am just going to say no or if I feel like it not say anything.
So let me act as a triumphant tale of one who has a rags to riches to more riches story. I won't apologize for my version of success which allows me to pay my bills and live a great life with my husband and kids. I pay a pretty penny in taxes, am financially responsible for about 20 households' livelihood not including employees, and I give plenty to charity. The "4 more years" chant precedes my increased tax burden so I level the playing field by simply cutting some people off for good. Does that make me a heartless witch. In the eyes of the takers of the world, I am sure it does. But I'll be at the Four Seasons Spa getting over it. Download the first song from my new "Face Down" playlist I created to ease my troubled mind, "Why I Love You" by Jay-Z and Kanye West.
Until next time,
Take care of you,
Mogul Mom
I am officially back in writing mode. I had an online blog a long time ago and took it down when I was tempted to trash certain family members who were workin' my nerves. I later began to put my thoughts, rants, and raves in an inspiring newsletter that I mailed out quarterly. Most recently I have been working on tightening up my manuscript to get it ready for print. As I near what is sure to be a successful benchmark in my life, I realize I am hitting a lot of obstacles and roadblocks trying to steer me off course. So I am back with a bigger audience, greater presence, and an unapologetic view on the world. Turning Forty does great things to a girl's perspective.
So welcome to my blog. I am a married mom to 4 kids, two at home and two out of the house. I am a Chicago girl who resides in Missouri. I commute between the city of St. Louis and a small town called West Plains. I am a reformed people pleaser, retired restaurateur, homeschooling mom, and aspiring author. I am a full time stay at home mom, part time college student, and perpetual entrepreneur.
The theme of my first day back as a blogger is "Divorcing Haters." On my desk sits a pen holder with a quote from Ernest Hemingway that reads, "the writer must write what he has to say, not speak it." So here I sit writing with lots to say, oh where to begin. I will begin with the most prevalent issue most moguls must contend with, haters looking for handouts.
Recently my husband and I watched a program on ESPN's 30 for 30 show entitled "Broke". It acts as a cautionary tale for future professional athletes and anyone really who makes it "big." Which is to say you become a success, well known, or financially stable.
What is the tendency for those of us with humble beginnings who become financially more capable e.g., lottery winners, athletes, celebrities, rappers, or business tycoons is for friends and relatives who request and then later demand what they think is owed to them from your earnings. Money rarely changes the person who earns it. It usually changes the person who hasn't earned it but thinks they are entitled to it. The earner knows the hours of hard work that go into making that money while the entitled only sees what the money can do to add to their façade of happiness.
It begins with the first gift. Some switch gets flipped in the mind of a taker the instant they are given a gift they really don't deserve. More times than not the people we lavish gifts upon are those who were witness to our struggle towards success. They weren't supporters or cheerleaders in anyway. Often they were naysayers in fact. We, the successful are happy to now say to them "see I was right to stick with my dream, it has paid off, and now surely you will accept me." But that acceptance we are looking for shows up as acceptance of the perks and hookups that surely come when one is blessed enough to earn so much that it can be shared without initially making a dent. But as the 30 for 30 film proved. The takers usually overwhelm the givers until they are depleted financially and emotionally.
So here I sit 5 years later after the family tiff that drove me away from blogging on the heels of another one all because I have the ability to say no to the takers of the world. I am a person who learns from others cautionary tales. I learn well. Poverty did not become me, being rich does. I wasn't born beautiful so having money levels the playing field quite a bit. I wasn't born male or Caucasian either so I need my money to last me as long as I am black and female. I won't bore you (any readers out there) with the details on my first day. I will allude to two stories covered by Wendy Williams this week.
Sherman Hemsley died in July and only recently will he get buried because a long lost relative showed up to contest his will. His estate was worth $50,000. Oprah Winfrey's stepmom cannot go away quietly now that she is being divorced by Vernon Winfrey until she gets access to the life being married to a mogul's father entitled her to. She doesn't want her share of his net worth she wants her share of Oprah's net worth.
This mogul mom's own net worth falls between Sherman Helmsley and Oprah's comfortably and all I did was not answer my phone when the same family member who pissed me off 5 years ago called with another emergency. So the grapevine was all a flutter with talks about my bold gesture to just not answer my phone. When did I become the bank of the family. My aunt dealt with similar issues in our large family until she feigned her own broke status did the beggars and takers leave her alone. But I don't intend to experience fake, real, or imagined brokenness in order to experience peace with my own money. I am just going to say no or if I feel like it not say anything.
So let me act as a triumphant tale of one who has a rags to riches to more riches story. I won't apologize for my version of success which allows me to pay my bills and live a great life with my husband and kids. I pay a pretty penny in taxes, am financially responsible for about 20 households' livelihood not including employees, and I give plenty to charity. The "4 more years" chant precedes my increased tax burden so I level the playing field by simply cutting some people off for good. Does that make me a heartless witch. In the eyes of the takers of the world, I am sure it does. But I'll be at the Four Seasons Spa getting over it. Download the first song from my new "Face Down" playlist I created to ease my troubled mind, "Why I Love You" by Jay-Z and Kanye West.
Until next time,
Take care of you,
Mogul Mom
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