“UNEDUCATED advice IS like a CASTING call, FOR the SHIT show, EVERYBODY wants an AUDITION.”

Let’s kick off todays blog with yet another entitled person contacting me because “I don’t provide the same things to traditional clients that aren’t marrying an inmate.” No I don’t. I have no intentions of starting either. Why not? BECAUSE my clients marrying an inmate ARE SINGLE INCOME HOUSEHOLDS that’s why. They do it all and THEY DO IT ALL ALONE.

I’m picky AF about WHO I CHOOSE to WORK with or FOR. If you want to start off with an attitude you can move on down the road. I’m busy. I work 7 days a week and travel 5-7 to locations. I’m also booked out through 2023 on weekends so if you are contacting me about a traditional event, I’m not available.

If you are contacting me to complain and aren’t even a client, I’m also intolerant. Traditional bookings are allowed to BORROW my inventory. That’s right at no cost to you. No one else in this industry LOANS you INVENTORY that they invested tens of thousands of dollars obtaining or creating EXCEPT me. Do you know why? Money and risk. Everyday I’m repairing something that was damaged or replacing it. Everyday. I have it so my clients don’t have to buy or provide it themselves. You’re welcome.

Now if you are not a client and are contacting me to advise me that I treat one set of clients differently than the other, buckle up because I am blatantly transparent about why one set of clients benefits from complimentary wedding rings and gifts while the other doesn’t.

BOTH sets of clients benefit from the ability to borrow my inventory.

Now moving on to questions regarding a “jewelry catalog” or choosing their own ring that they are NOT paying for. Hire someone else. Hire someone who won’t provide anything to you other than showing up and coming up with dumb ass excuses as to why they can’t respond to you because they are too busy to do so. What a load of arrogant & stupid bullshit.

If you are in this industry and your clients aren’t a PRIORITY you are in the WRONG business buddy. You are also the reason your business is failing and mine are so damn successful. My clients are treated like the PRIORITY they ARE.

I answer my phone, email and DM’s on my business pages of FB & Instagram NOT LinkedIn, Twitter, Pinterest or other forums because I have FIVE websites and my phone number is easily obtained on the internet.

I don’t have time to go through thousands of DM’s most of which are spam 365 days a year. That’s right. I don’t take days off.

“How’s my 2022 going? Well it’s a literal shit show although only my readers would know about it since my blogs are my diaries.

On New Year’s Eve and I still can’t believe this happened, not one but both of my TDCJ Robertson Unit clients popped positive for Covid. Good Lord HAVE mercy.

The problem? Which one? Cindy and I arrived early because we were scheduled in the afternoon to do bridal photos then take my clients and their kids to lunch before heading to the Unit.

Cindy and I had no idea that Thomesha and Tiffany as well as Thomesha’s kids were infected. They weren’t coughing or showing any signs of illness. Hell I even put Tiffany’s tiara on.

For anyone unaware of the implications here, I was close enough to her face to kiss her. Tiffany had rode with and stayed with Thomesha and her kids at a hotel in Abilene.

All of us left chilis after I paid the bill and caravanned to TDCJ Robertson Unit. Arriving first at the duty shack, I screened first. Next came Thomesha then Tiffany. Cindy and I waited.

The CO came back to my suv and said “Miss Wendy we have a problem.” Confused I looked at Cindy. He continued “both of your clients are positive.” Oh my God. My twin had heart surgery 1.5 years ago. My husband just had heart surgery 6 months ago. I was close enough to kiss Tiffany. We had been with them for 2 hours.

I had been so damn cautious and careful for TWO YEARS not to get this virus shit AND my OWN clients were about to go from zero to crazy. Shit. I started crying knowing we had been with 5 positive people for two hours. My blood pressure was through the roof and I had not one but two clients out of control.

I always say “it’s hard AF to look and act normal in an abnormal situation” BECAUSE IT IS.

Units REQUIRE everyone to pass the test to screen in. They are short on staff and tests. Thomesha demanded a second test. Tiffany did too. I was trying to control my breathing with my mind going crazy about being exposed.

My son and his wife just had a baby. A baby I hadn’t even seen yet because of my crazy ass schedule. The twins both have asthma. Leigh Ann, Cindy and Matthew have heart issues.

Oh my God my own damn clients brought the Covid into my life. Jesus I was trying to stop thinking about my family and my other clients. I can’t afford to get this shit. No one can.

After the second test, Thomesha and Tiffany got out of their suv screaming and acting stupid at a high security correctional facility? WTF? The CO was helpless. I had to control my clients NOW KNOWING they were carrying the damn virus the entire world is terrified of. God.

If you think I don’t deal with stressful situations on a daily basis, think again. There’s a reason I’m blunt and transparent and to some folks even bitchy. I don’t care about opinions of people that don’t matter to me and if you haven’t figured that out yet, now you have. I don’t have the time or the patience to pretend I live a charmed life because I don’t. I’m the fixer. I’m the check writer. I’m the problem solver. I’m NOT the “tell you what you want to hear person you want me to be.” I’m candid, honest and blunt.

Getting those 2 back in their suv wasn’t easy. Trying not to panic was even more difficult. I drove straight to Urgent Care. Cindy and I both got steroid shots and antibiotics. We were both scared shitless now. I’m serious. I wouldn’t sleep for days worried sick about getting sick. Worrying about my family. Telling my son and his wife that “I was too scared to see them because I had been exposed by my own clients.”

I called and rescheduled my Covid positive clients at Robertson for January 28th. Stack em. I was already scheduled with other clients on that date so it wouldn’t screw up my schedule with other clients. Very few Units use Friday.

By the first week of January, Cindy was sick as were the twins and my husband. I was mad as Hell about this. Then my brother then his grandkids then his wife then our father. It killed him.

I paid for our fathers funeral last Friday while in Abilene AGAIN. I had tried to pay while in Rosharon after acting normal yet again for my client. So normal in fact that she had no idea I was under extreme stress that began the day I was headed to Terrell Unit. Why? My brother had asked me to call and tell our father we loved him. Cindy and I hadn’t talked to him since he left TX 3 years ago to go stay with Jerry.

Screaming and crying all the way to Centerville, I called Cindy and we conference called our father. Hours later just after the urn Cindy ordered on Amazon arrived, our dad died.

I had to make arrangements. I was on location with my clients and her twins acting normal waiting on that shoe to fall. The literal shit show of chaos that I have in my life would astound you because no one knows. I look happy, experienced, educated and in control because I am but that doesn’t mean I don’t have problems because I do.

After my client and her daughters left, I called the funeral home. They would go get the body and wouldn’t let me pay them? What the Hell was going on? I didn’t care at that point I was 3.5 hours from my next event and client. I let it go. I should have demanded a contract but I was literally rattled AF. Calling my father to tell him I loved him was the hardest damn phone call I have ever made in my life.

The next morning I was headed back to Abilene. This time without Cindy. Ugh. I didn’t need another shit show at Robertson Unit. I was worried as Hell about it too. I have a 5 page contract. I won’t work or commit to ANY client without it either. I’m a fanatic about contracts and yet I didn’t demand one from that funeral home. It would bite me in the ass less than 24 hours later.

On New Year’s Eve Abilene wax rainy and foggy. I wasn’t happy with Tiffany’s bridal photos so I had contacted her to redo them at the Dr Suess park in Abilene. Her wedding was rescheduled at 1PM. I had intentionally planned to take my other clients to chilis after Tiffany’s wedding because I had already taken her to lunch on New Year’s Eve and had given her the bridal gift I bought walking into chilis on New Year’s Eve.

Frankly I was still lit about everyone in my family getting Covid due to Tiffany and Thomesha. I still am.

I wanted to take my other clients to Jacob’s Dream for their photos then to chilis before I was due at Taylor County Jail at 5:30PM.

I’m so overworked and overwhelmed that I had forgotten about the damn funeral home. THEY didn’t forget about me.

Rolling into the park I saw Tiffany and the funeral home called before I could shift my suv into park. Their timing sucked.

I listened to the Bla Bla Bla bullshit before finally hearing a completely different amount. How different? $1457 plus $500 for the ceremony. Here I go “acting normal” with Tiffany standing by my drivers door. I’m mad about her and Thomesha literally taking my entire family out with Covid and now I’m mad at the funeral home. Smiles everyone smiles!

I evaluate whether or not to throw a fit. I argue with myself. “Well, you are only going to have to do this ONCE. No question this shit. Where’s the documentation? Are they going to hit you up again?”

Tiffany is standing there. “You are on a timeline. What’s wrong with you? You’ve got $140k in your checking account you cheap bastard. Just pay them! Don’t upset your brother. Just pay it.” I did AND then I sent a photo text of the payment in full to Cindy that and a follow up text that read “I’m on a tight ass timeline as usual. I’m with Tiffany. Call those bastards and make damn sure the don’t screw anything up in NC.”

I got out and acted normal. Tiffany had no idea what took me about 2-3 minutes in my suv.

After getting her photos done, we went to the Unit. I fielded three client calls and one unwitting journalist who caught my fury. If you don’t know anything about me or my businesses, don’t effin call me to educate or enlighten you. You are a journalist do your own damn research! I don’t want to “tell you about my business.” I talk to people all day everyday. I get paid to talk to people calling me. I don’t get paid to talk to uneducated and inexperienced journalist or production people. Do your own research. I’m not a mentor, teacher or chit chat person. I’m a businesswoman with too many commitments and never enough time.

Leaving Robertson still wearing my normal, happy and got my shit together face, no one knew I was having issues. I’m furious ar that funeral home. They lied to me Thursday. They knew they were lying too. Having that body gave them an advantage.

Saturday morning I get an email from the funeral home. No it’s not documentation for my payment. No it’s not a contract. It’s a required authorization form. It also requires a notary. On the weekend? I’m at the airport. Damnit. I had just glanced at it so I responded and told them “I’m traveling and working and cannot get to a notary until Monday when I’m back in Fort Worth.”

Monday I’m in Fort Worth. I’ve got 2 jails, 2 clerks offices, the post office and now the bank to notarize this shit. I’m overwhelmed and acting normal as usual. My name is wrong. I’m infuriated but it isn’t my bankers fault.

Back in my suv headed to my next jail I call my brothers wife. “My name is wrong. WTF? Can you call those idiots? I just overpaid them on Friday. They know my name. They’ve charged my card, they’ve emailed me. My email is my name.” Michelle thinks I’m crying and disgusted because I’m grieving. But that’s not why I’m crying. I’m crying because that funeral stuck it to me Friday and they are still sticking it to me Monday. “Wendy they are keeping him on ice until you get that back to them and your brother is fragile. Why can’t you just scratch out the name and change it.” I now want to scream. My sister in law has no idea that no one is going to notarize an incorrect document that doesn’t exactly match my name. I’m also worried about my brother still recovering from Covid and now dealing with all of this shit.

I call the funeral home myself. Eff it. Those sorry bastards are killing me. I don’t even know if I can act normal on Monday and finish my day. Seriously. I’m losing my shit. The funeral home emails that they will send another authorization form. Damn them. How much money is it going to take for me to get some effin closure around here?!

I go to the clerks office to file licenses. I had to sit in my suv practicing my breathing to get out. Everyone knows me here. I always have my shit together. I’m articulate. Professional. Friendly. OCD. The problem was that I wasn’t on Monday because I was waiting on that effin document to be sent and wondering where the Eff it was?

I take a number. It’s Monday and there are about 12-14 people AHEAD of me. I check my watch. Then I check my email. Again and again and again and again. Cindy, Michelle and other clients are texting, emailing and calling. I need my anxiety meds. They are in my suv.

I finally get called up. Nancy wants to catch up. She’s bored. I’m checking my email. Where is that damn document? I’m smiling and acting normal asking about her son. Then I’m looking at my email. I’ve got 237 emails. The funeral home isn’t one of them. I answer emails late at night or early in the morning at 3 or 4AM. Why? Time. I don’t have time during the day.

I leave the clerks office and am back in my suv talking to a client when the next set of authorization forms comes in. Thank God I didn’t check my name again UNTIL I got off that call. It’s wrong again.

I’m now pounding my steering wheel. I’m now crying again. What the eff do I have to do to get these bastards to do the job I paid them to on Friday?

My hands are shaking. I’m at Green Bay Unit next. I don’t know how in the Hell I’m ever going to get this done. I’m a helpless captive. I’m not in control. I’ve done everything these bastards asked me to do.

I roll into Green Bay. Wipe your eyes. Get her gift. Where’s your binder? Breathe.

I email those fuckers again. If I was in NC I would’ve went over there and it would have been ugly.

They immediately email me back “we are correcting it and sending it again.” Damn them. Extortionists.

Acting normal. Checking in. Going through the motions. Greeting the warden. Wondering if they’ve sent that email? Focus.

Back in the suv. New email. So stressed you don’t recognize or realize your name is wrong again until the 3rd banker tells you. You lose your shit. Everyone knows you at Frost Bank.

The banker gets Kleenex. I explain what’s been going on. I give her my phone to see for herself. Now she’s crying. She calls them. She’s as mad as I am. She just buried HER MOTHER and NO surprise here, got charged MORE too. We are both LIT at funeral homes.

They finally email my banker and she notarizes and faxes the correct name on the authorization form.

The memorial is Weds. Tuesday I’m on the road all day. I’m also hit with a golf ball sized rock on my way to the Unit that shattered the windshield of the suv I’ve only had a few months. I don’t have time to get this fixed.

Weds I’m on the road all day then at the airport. Ice is coming to TX. Now that windshield is going to splinter all the way across due to freezing temperatures.

I’ve got to put the Cherokee in because the service light is on. I’ve got to move the Sahara out I will need AWD. I’ve got to get to the airport before the crazy people start wrecking into each other on the ice. Could anything else go wrong!

Thursday I was in Arkansas. Friday I was in Oklahoma. Today I’m in Missouri. I don’t even look at my own schedule more than 1-2 days out. Why not? Because I would be overwhelmed.

If you work in the funeral industry, get your shit together and stop being opportunist…