Pearls

I’m obsessed. I’m ridiculously obsessed with pearls … or maybe it’s the oysters … or maybe both. I just love the look of each individual shell, the crack that initiates the opening, and the reveal of the surprise, one-of-kind pearl inside. The shucking craze is here to stay, and I’m hooked.


I’ll admit, I was a skeptic. I had been to an oyster shucking home-party about ten years ago. I did not have the best of experiences. It was dark, WAY overpriced, a little boring, and did I say dark … as in, it was hard to see what they were doing, let alone the pearl. So I had to wonder after all these years, “What the heck is up with all these oyster shows?”


I mean, they are on just about every time I open my phone (that’s the way us modern people roll on Facebook), and sometimes hundreds of people are watching. I resisted for months … and then came AKA Mom. They sucked me smack in with their hilarious and witty ways, and now I can watch for hours! I’ve never even frickin bought one, it’s just good entertainment. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m going to get an oyster containing a pearl. I’ve just been burned by the home-party pearl before, so I decided to look into the pearl companies first.


I’ve researched, investigated, and read up on this pearl shucking phenomena. I have to say, my favorite pearls, and the best as far as I’m concerned, come from the Kalo company. This venture was started by two women (which I love) and is still in its early stages.
To purchase, you can buy just the pearl, or you can choose to get jewelry to showcase the pearl. They don’t automatically MAKE you buy the jewelry (Some places make you pre-buy jeweler to go with your pearl) … although you’ll probably be clamoring to pick up a piece or two when you see the reasonable prices.
And before you ask, YES the oysters are real! They are cultured, freshwater Akoya oysters, as opposed to the freshwater oysters that some companies sell. Kalo uses an oyster farm in Asia to harvest their unique oysters, and each one is guaranteed at least one pearl. Each individual oyster actually makes the pearl inside its shell at the Kalo farm. So yes, they are very real.
Factoid time: I learned, in my extensive research, that there is a way to tell if the pearl is “real.” Stop me if you’ve heard this before. If you rub the pearl across your teeth and it gritty, the pearl is real. If you rub it against your teeth and it’s smoothe, it’s fake!


Want to join the obsession with me? Visit AKA Mom on Facebook for their live shucking shows. Join the addiction with me. Oh, I’ll be there .. make sure you say hi!
 

🔴Edit: I just joined to make a bit of extra money!! Check me out Momma Possum at:

https://mppearlparties.kalojewelry.com/store/vp?MjcyNg

 

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9th Planet

So, no biggie, there might be a ninth planet in our solar system. WHAT?!? I would say there IS a ninth planet, but it has yet to actually be seen.
No, I’m not talking about poor, downgraded to dwarf planet, Pluto (don’t worry, Pluto, I still believe in you). I’m talking about the “hidden” planet known as Ninth Planet.

What?!?


If it’s hidden, you ask, how then do we know there is (might be) a ninth planet out there? This sneaky, huge planet is leaving a trail. 

What kind of a trail? Can I see it?


Astronomers, including Mike “Pluto Killer” Brown (the scientist who embarrassed poor Pluto by discrediting it as a “real” planet), think they have found its orbital pattern, which is 30 degrees off of the orbits of the other planets. It is approximately (and hypothetically) 40 lightyears away, and its large pull, with the 30 degree difference, is what makes the sun appear to tilt (I’ve never noticed a tilty sun, but they are the experts).

How dare you discredit Pluto!


The overwhelming evidence seems to be in the Kuiper Belt (yeah, I didn’t know what that was either). This is the area past Neptune (including poor Pluto) where icy, frozen things like to hang out. There is something big out there, like a Planet Nine for example, that is scrambling this area with an apparent gravitational pull.

One big planet to scramble them all.


It has been estimated that Planet Nine (if it exists … which I like to think it does) is 10-15 times the size of earth. It would have to have a HUGE orbit, 20 times farther from the sun than that of Neptune, taking 10,000 to 20,000 years (Earth years) to orbit the sun.

That’s big.


Also, no big deal, it may be the driving force in the destruction of our solar system. Never fear, however, this would occur after our sun dies, along with earth and everything on it. We won’t be here to see it happen anyway!

The destruction, oh the destruction!


Now, this is all hypothetical, of course. There are, however, individuals who believe it’s not IF, but WHEN Planet Nine will come out of hiding. These astronomers continue to search, using the most powerful telescopes and the most high-tech mapping systems available.

Come on Planet 9! Show yourself!!


I don’t know about you, but I’m rooting for Planet Nine. How awesome would such a discovery be during our lifetime! To be a small part of the civilization that discovers only the third planet since ancient times would be incredibly unbelievable. Come on, astronomers, you got this!

You can do it!

My Besties

I am weird. I fully admit this. I’m not like stalker weird, but I do have best friends who don’t realize I am alive, let alone know that we are best friends. Is that crazy?

I might be CrAzY.


I blame my weird friend acquisition completely on social media. A year ago I had friends, friends of the reach-out-and-touch-them variety. I still have these friends, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes life gets all gummed up and in the way. I don’t get to see, or spend time with, my live-in-town friends nearly as often as I would like. I usually can’t call them up and just chat about nothing in general at any given time of the day when I feel bored. They’re busy with their kids’ activities, dinner, life, whatever.

So what did you have for breakfast?


Enter social media. It’s like a world of magic, instant gratification, electronic fairies who make friendships with anyone, at anytime, in any location, in any country possible. At any given moment, I can log onto one of my social media accounts, and the world opens up to me. It’s my oyster, and I’ll take it.

The cyber world is your oyster, man!


Sometimes, I log into a continuous conversation I’m having via Messenger with about eight different people at any given time. I also have my friends who are members of several groups I follow. In these groups, people post things on the “wall.” I can choose to interact with these posts at any time I so desire. Sometimes I’m not even really sure what the group is about. Who cares! There are people (I’m assuming they are people) interacting with me!

I hardly wear makeup. Who cares?!?


Then there is the “liking” of posts. It’s an easy way to say, “Hey, girl, hey! I see your post, and I was here.” Sometimes, I get brave enough to post something on a group’s wall. Sometimes I even get likes in return! It’s like magic! It makes me feel so popular and loved. Do these people know me? Not really! Most of them have no idea what I even look like, but that’s the magic of social media.
But, my bestest of best friends are found as the face of some of the LIVE streams I follow on social media. I have a select few I follow, but I know all there is to (publicly) know about these, my besties! My husband even knows, and refers to them as, “Best friend 2, 3, and 4.” I do have ONE “real” best friend. I’m not THAT much of a whack-a-doo! Best friends 2, 3, and 4 are as real as social media gets, though.

So I have friends on the computer who don’t know I exist. Who cares?!!


Sometimes, they even say my name in response to something I’ve written in the feed of their LIVE show. It’s like they ACTUALLY know me!! I mean, they say my name, out loud, in front of their other gazillion followers. Besties, I tell ya! They really get me.

They accept me as I am.


Okay, it’s slightly possible I’m a little crazy, but doesn’t it feel this way sometimes? There are so many people we follow online these days. We spend so much time reading their blogs or watching their LIVES, it’s like we actually know them. It kind of blurs the line between celebrity and those that watch from behind a screen. Social media allows us to interact with, and know people, like never before.

Who are your best social media friends?

World record holder

Is there a World Record for the world’s clumsiest person? If so, I would like to submit my name for consideration. I don’t know what the verification process entails, but I believe I would win, hands down! Need proof?

Exhibit A: Picture it. It’s 1980. I’m five years old, dressed in a light pink leotard, and barefoot. I’m walking across our groovy brown shag carpet when BOOM! Somehow I manage to step on a toothpick that has been ensnared in the tufts of shagginess that is our carpet. Straight up into the middle of my left foot the toothpick lodges. It takes an ER visit, including a minor surgical procedure, to get the dang stick out of my foot.

Ouch!

Exhibit B: I’m in fourth grade. Our class is walking back to the school building after recess. Out of nowhere a curb shows up to ruin my day. I step off … that’s right, I said I simply stepped off … the stupid thing, twisting my ankle and spraining it really good in the process. Another fun visit to the ER, including crutches and a plaster splint, is needed to fix me this time.

I cannot believe that happened.

Exhibit C: Unknown year. I’m at my grandparents house, which is full of people who have come for some sort of party. I am playing with my cousins, and the random children that have come with their parents to this party for the grown ups. I’m in the kitchen, but I can see a group of kids playing in the backyard. I run from the kitchen, through the front room full of people, and WHAM! I run face first into the sliding glass door. I did not realize it was shut, because I’m awesome like that. I remember lots of blood, and being completely embarrassed by the number of people that witnessed my catastrophe.

Whoops!

Exhibit D: I’m eighteen years old, and I’m at Disney World for the first time. We have just finished eating, and notice a bus about to leave for our hotel. No problem, we’ll run and catch the bus before it leaves. Check that. THEY’LL run and catch the bus. I’ll start to run at full speed toward the bus, but somehow get my feet tangled up with … well, my feet. Down I go, but I don’t just fall. No, I have to be more dramatic than that. I fall and start to bounce and roll across the parking lot. When I finally come to a stop, the entire bus population is looking at me with gaping disbelief. I am mortified.

Bounce and roll!

Exhibit E: Same year. I am at the beach in California, where I have come with my immediate family and my older cousin. We decide to have a swing on a swing set facing the water. Everything is giggles and rainbows, until everyone decides to jump from the swings. They go, one by one, soaring through the air like birds on the wind, before they land perfectly on the sand, maybe ten or fifteen feet in front of the swings. It’s my turn. I’m so confident, I could burst. I let go of the rusted chain of my swing. Up I go … and then immediately down I go. I somehow faceplant under the swing. I will never live this down.

Zziiiip it!


I could go on, but I’ll let those embarrassing moments speak for themselves. I am, in fact, the most clumsy person alive today.
Do you think you are clumsier than me? I don’t think it’s possible, but let’s hear your stories of grand clumsy embarrassment in the comments.
 

Party girl

I love home parties. I mean I LOVE them. It’s quite the addictive problem, actually. I’m not talking about straight-up social gatherings, I’m talking about parties with a purpose. I’ve always been THAT girl. You know, the one that is at every home party I can weasel my way into. That’s me!!

The time spent with friends (usually kid-free!!) where we all bond as we sit, talk, sometimes snack, sometimes imbibe a bit … oh yeah, and play with whatever product is there for the purchasing … it’s close to heaven in my book. It doesn’t even matter what the product is!! I love (insert party name here)!

It’s even become fun as it has progressed to live parties on the internet! You can party from home in your pajamas! You still get to gossip and gab with your “friends” while partying, but now there can be 4K or more of them!! They all become like your best friends that you get to “see” every day. One of the best parts, you don’t have to dress up to impress, because they can’t see you!! All the talking is done à la chatroom style on the computer. The only one that has to show up halfway decent is the hostess!

I’ve been to them all! Multiple makeup parties, jewelry parties, scrapbooking, cooking, oysters, clothes, home accents, candles, books full of randomness, stamping, bags … you name it, I’ve probably been to it in one form or another. I’m a bit of a home party junkie.
The only problem comes toward the end of the party when the hostess inevitably says, “I’d love to have you join my team!” My gut reaction is, “YES!!” I’ve usually had so much fun that I have bought into the whole experience. I want to LIVE at these parties! I want to have fun like this ALL THE TIME! I rationalize it to myself, and have an internal battle about how I can make it work.
But, realistically, it won’t work for me.

Why can’t I just do them all?!?

Here are a few reasons I have to take a step back, and talk myself off the party-joining ledge:

  1. I am not a social-butterfly. Although I enjoy these parties, outgoing, extrovert is not my forte. I enjoy being talked to, not being the one doing the talking. 
  2. I’m just going to say it: My friends are cheap. I don’t understand, but they all HATE home parties. If they can’t get something at less-than wholesale, it ain’t happening. I still love them, I just wish they enjoyed my proclivity toward the home party experience.
  3. I hate conflict. It’s all fine and dandy … until somebody wants to make a return or has a problem with the product. I take it too personally. I recently tried to resell some things I don’t use anymore on a popular resale site. Just that experience had me in the corner, curled up in the fetal position. People get MEAN when they think you’ve purposefully done something they don’t like!! I couldn’t deal with that all the time.
  4. Let’s face it, some of the things aren’t really marketable. Don’t get me wrong, I still love going to the parties, but I’ve found myself saying under my breath, “This product really sucks,” or “Why, out of all the businesses out there, would you choose this one?” The things that ARE marketable are super-saturated in the marketplace … and I’m not outgoing enough to be the one out of 5,000 that stands out.
  5. Have you seen the start-up cost to join some of these businesses? I will say, the better the product, the higher the start-up fees. I have found this to be the case. I can’t, however, miss five months of rent to gamble on a product … and really gamble on myself … that may or may not pan out.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve signed on that dotted line a few times. I’ve tried to make it work. 

Always, nope. Always.

I am meant to be the supportive party girl who always shows up. I am not, much to my chagrin, meant to sell. That’s okay, though. The world needs both kinds of people!

Are you a presenter or party girl (or guy)? Tell us about your product of choice in the comments.