This past week I learned that one of my clients is a fellow blogger.
A witty blogger.
And she’s letting me re-post one of her clever posts here.
But first, here’s the back story.
In 2008, I worked with Christ Church School in Fort Lauderdale, FL. For the first time, they broke the 6-figure mark in their auction returns.
After that gala, Shayna Altman-Neal, the Auction Co-Chair, wrote:
Our event was awesome! We feel the night was incredible. We surpassed our goals, and set a new standard for this school auction. It was time to take our event to the next level, and we got more than we thought possible.
It was a 30% net increase from the previous year. We knew there was more money to be made than what we’d been raising. We’d been using a professional auctioneer, but Red Apple Auctions showed us the difference between a benefit auctioneer and an auctioneer. I personally loved everything Red Apple gave to our event. We would have never had done as well as we did without you.
In 2009, the new Auction Chair hired a different benefit auctioneer. It didn’t go as well.
So in 2010, Red Apple Auctions was back.
Last Saturday, this group hit a new record — ~$30,000 more than we achieved two years ago.
Wahoo! The school auction’s entire committees is floating.
Maria, the primary Auction Chair, called me from the grocery store to share the good news.
Excited patrons.
Thrilled donors.
Ecstatic auction committee.
“I’m over the moon,” she said.
Then she shared that one of her elated team members had blogged about it.
“The McMommy Chronicles” has graciously allowed me to re-post her entry below for your enjoyment. Read it below.
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Like the Black-Eyed Peas, I got a feeling.
Like the Black Eyed Peas, I gotta feeling.
I don’t remember the last time I went to bed at 2am.
It’s definitely been awhile.
Then again, I don’t remember the last time I helped raise $140,000 for my son’s school.
Oh wait, that’s right. I NEVER HAVE BEFORE.
Until Saturday night. I am still on a high from last night. Because for the past YEAR, I have been working with 4 other wonderful women to plan the biggest and best dinner auction in my son’s school history. There were many mornings and evenings put into this planning.
Many Saturdays and Sundays.
Many emails.
Many emails that began with “It’s 9pm. Is it too late to call your house? Because I have a question about…”
Many frustrations. Many high-fives.
Many tears of sheer gratitude and joy as we watched the numbers tally up last night.
$140,000.
Are you serious? WE did this???
But let me tell you about the most glorious part of the night.
No, no. It wasn’t when we all hit the dance floor at midnight to dance to Black Eyed Peas, although that was memorable.
No, it was the fact that….. My feet were not killing me.
PEOPLE, I WORE FLATS TO THIS AUCTION AND IT WAS GLORIOUS!!!!!!!!!
Now I know right now you are probably all “You’re dumb.” because really, how can shoes be the most glorious part of a night like Saturday night???
But on such a occasion as this, where the attire on the invite said “Safari Chic”….it literally PAINED me not to wear an adorable pair of heels.
However, my brain was all “Don’t do it, McMommy. Seriously, DO.NOT.DO.IT. STEP AWAY FROM THE HEELS!”
I knew I was going to be on my feet the entire evening. Sitting was not going to be an option.
So I picked out a long, black and white, giraffe-print dress that was kind of flow-y and summery but oh who cares.
It’s February and 80 degrees here.
Hmmmm.
I kept calling it a giraffe-print but that doesn’t look like giraffe in that picture. Plus since when are giraffes black and white?! Was I drunk when I bought that dress?
Ok, moving on…being that the dress was long, it gave me the strength to go for the flats.
I chose a pair of black, patent-leather, thong sandals. They kind of looked like this, only mine had some rhinestone thingys on the t-strap. And they weren’t Dolce & Gabbana. And they definitely did not cost $500.
I was standing, lifting, dancing, running (yes, at one point I was literally running in those sandals down the long hall looking for the caterer) and my feet were surviving! My plan was working!! IT WAS GLORIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! VICTORY WAS MINE!!!!!!
And it totally was.
Until a 250 lb guy accidentally stepped on my foot as he was making a beeline towards the bar.
I believe the imprint crushed into my skin from the sole of his massive shoe read: 100% shoe fail.
Better luck next time, McMommy.
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A story well-told, McMommy.
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