My parents raised some imaginative kids…. probably closer to borderline delusional disorder at times. Looking back, my poor parents.
My first memory of “playing” or “pretending” included my Grandma Sage sitting on a red, round, corduroy throw pillow in a pair of polyester blend, dark brown, elastic waist pants, and a button up shirt. As a result of her wardrobe, she played the role of a male. I on the other hand sat beside her on a “scratchy”, gold, throw pillow in a floor length dress. I was Laura Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie. At this particular moment, we were “riding in a wagon” and she was playing the role of Albert.
It was raining as we pulled up in front of an all brick colonial in the Ginter Park area of Richmond’s North side. The house looked promising from the outside, but brick ones usually do.
“Eb’nay, my hair is going to be a disaster after this if I have to wait for you to get the lock box open.” I say to Ebony, my agent.
“Char’tay,” we have our own language, “mine will be no better.”
“Do we both have to be ugly? I can’t open anyway.”
With a huff and an eye roll Ebony stomps to the door and I wait in the car. The reality of the matter is that if my hair is within the same zip code as a lawn sprinkler I will end up looking like Gene Simmons or Richard Simmons depending on my cut at the time. She can roll out of the bed into a hurricane and show up like she has been in the salon all day. The outcome was going to be the same. #frizzyhairdontcare
I see Ebony has the door just about open and I jump out and make a mad dash in to the door like a mother flipping ninja.
I was lying in bed, my head rushing with fantasy. How could I sleep? I was five or six and the next day my family was leaving to go on a beach vacation with my Grandma Ruby. I had been sent to bed but I was fully adrenalized. I envisioned building a beautiful sand fort with a working drawbridge and moat. Grandma and I would sit inside and play without my pesky little sister. Bahahaha! (Picture that in evil laugh tone.) We would have ice cream, and I would jump right into the ocean (without waiting) and swim with the mermaids!!!
I am not sure how long it took me to finally drift off to sleep but I can tell you it was not early enough….
I awoke tired to a high-strung mother, wound up like one of those creepy toy monkeys that play cymbals. My dad already rolling his eyes and saying, “Is it really worth getting this upset over?” My crying sister has somehow gotten a hold of gum that might be in her hair.
I was born an entrepreneur. I am pretty certain that I was peddling passies in the hospital when the nurses left the room.All of the other kids in the neighborhood were riding bikes and playing with dolls I was selling jewelry out of a catalogue and creating a back yard consignment shop. At 21 I became a real estate investor and fell in love. This was/is/ and always will be my passion. I have been madly in love with flipping, holding, and writing offers on real estate that seem crazy for 18 years. Ladies and gents I am willing to share the love of my life with you. Maybe its polyamory maybe its jut because I can’t shut up about it. Either way I will be sharing every mistake I ever made and the lesson that came from it. I love questions. Please ask away!!!