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friendlytroll:

incurablenecromantic:

Sometimes people like to write things about florist’s shops.  Here are two things you need to know, the most egregiously wrong things.

1. It makes no fucking sense to sketch out a bouquet before you make it.  Every individual flower is different in a way that cannot really be adjusted the way other building materials can be adjusted, and each individual bouquet is unique.  Just put the fucking flowers together.

2. No one — in months and months of working at the flower shop — has ever cared what the flower/color of the flower means.  No one’s ever asked.  It’s just not something people tend to care about outside of fiction and it’s certainly not something most florists know.  You know what florists know?  What looks good and is thematically appropriate.

Here’s an actual list of the symbology of flowers, as professionals use it:

Yellow – for friends, hospitals
Pink – girls, girlfriends, babies, bridesmaids
Red – love
Purple – queens
White – marriage and death (DO NOT SEND TO HOSPITALS)
Pink and purple – ur mum
Red, orange, and yellow – ur mum if she’s stylish
Red, yellow, blue – dudes and small children
Blue and white – rare, probably a wedding
Red and white – love for fancy bitches

Here are what the flowers actually mean to a florist:

The Fill It Out flowers:

Carnations – fuck u these are meaningless filler-flowers, not even your administrative assistant likes them, show some creativity
Alstroemeria – by and large very similar to carnations but I like them better
Tea roses – cute and lil and come several to a stalk, a classy filler flower
Moluccella laevis – filler flower but CHOICE
Delphinium – not as interesting as moluccella but purple so okay I guess
Blue thistle – FUCK YEAH, some fucking textural variety at last!  you’re getting this for a dude, aren’t you?
Chrysanthemums – barely better than carnations but better is still better
Gladiolus – ooh, risky business, someone understands the use of the Y-axis, very good

Focal points:

Long-stem roses – yeah whatever
Lilies – LBD, looks good with everything, get used as often as possible
Hydrangeas – thirsty fuckers, divas of the flower world and rightly so, treat them right and they make you look good
Gerbera daisies – the rose’s hippie cousin, hotter but no one admits it
Peonies – CHA-CHING, everybody’s absolute favorite but you need guap
Orchids – if this isn’t for a wedding you’re probably trying too hard but they’re expensive so keep ordering them

You know what matters?  THE CUSTOMER’S BUDGET.  THAT’S TELLING.

-$20 – if you’re not under 12, fuck off, get your sugar something else
$30 – good for bouquets but an arrangement will be lame
$40 – getting there, there’s something that can be done with that.  you can get some gerbs or roses with that and not have them look stupidly solo.
$50 to $70 – tolerable
$80 – FINALLY.  It sounds elitist but this really is the basic amount of money you should expect to spend on an arrangement that matters.  That’s your Mother’s Day arrangement.  You’re probably not going to spend $80 on a bouquet.
$90 to $130 – THE GOOD SHIT, you’re likely to get some orchids
$130+  – Weddings and death.  This amount of money gets you a memorial arrangement or a handmade bridal bouquet.  Don’t spend this on a Mother’s Day or a Babe I Love You arrangement, buy whosits a massage or something.

Miscellaneous:

  • Everything needs greening and if you don’t think that you’re an idiot. 
  • As a new employee, when you start making arrangements, you can’t see the mistakes you’re making because you’re brand new and you’re learning an art form from the ground up.
  • With a few exceptions customers don’t have a clear plan in mind.  They want you to develop the bouquet for them.  They want something that will delight their little sweetbread but you’re lucky if they know that person’s favorite color, let alone flower.
  • Flower shops don’t typically have every kind of flower in every kind of color.  Customers generally aren’t assed about that.  Most people don’t care about the precise shade of the rose or having daffodils in July, because they’re not boning up on flower language before they buy.  That would imply that they’ve got a clear bouquet in mind and, again, they don’t.
  • Being a florist is essentially a lot like what I imagine being a mortician is about.  You’re basically keeping dead things looking good for as long as possible.  You keep the product in the fridge so it doesn’t rot and look horrible by the time the family gets a whack at it, and in the meanwhile you put it in a nice container.

Anyway that’s flowers.

this is magnificent and I love hearing about ppl job feilds

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americaninfographic:

Greek Gods

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liethargy:

THE GODDESS SERIES | hecate

“In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves.”

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“We don’t have time.” “No.” “Then we’re on our own.” And for some reason, I felt the tension relax in my neck. It must have in my voice, too, because Mircea looked at me narrowly. “Is there a reason you suddenly sound relieved ?” “It’s not … relief exactly. It’s just that … well, it’s fly-by-the- times when I truly believe you are the most frightening person I know.” I blinked. “Thank you?” “You’re welcome.” And then we didn’t say anything else. Because we spotted them.

Hunt the moon, Karen Chance
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One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.” I was actually terrified that I already meant it. A guy might just be a keeper who hears your cry for help in his head. And comes into a den of thieves to get you out. And then holds your hair while you throw up for ten minutes. Then again, I was in no condition to judge. But that old saying kept rattling around in my head. “ In vino veritas ,” I whispered, faintly appalled. “What?” “Nothing.” I looked up at him as he pulled me back to my feet. “Let’s go home.

Dorina and Louis Cesar, Karen Chance In Vino Veritas
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americaninfographic:

Egyptian Gods

Wow, and its so pretty too!

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paused. What was I saying? Was I actually thinking about this? Was I actually doing this? Because out of a lifetime of crazy things, this had to take the prize. Dhampirs didn’t have relationships—not long-term ones, at least. And certainly not with the creatures we were supposed to be hunting. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, and this was probably going to end in disaster. Everyone knew, there was no such thing as happy endings, and princes didn’t end up with the family pariah. But now it seems that I am a pariah, too, drifted through my head. “Stop it,” I said, leaning back against him. His arms were tight around me, but his hands were gentle. I could hear a heartbeat in my ear, and it sounded natural, soothing. “What are you saying? That I can’t corrupt you?”

Death’s Mistress, Karen Chance
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Radu nodded, but he didn’t leave. “You know, even if she hadn’t been an evil mutant, she was always quite bad for him. Not that I meddle.”  “Of course not.” “But she was. He needs a nice, levelheaded girl. You’re levelheaded, Dory.” “I’m insane, ’Du.” “Well, not all the time. And when you’re not, you’re quite lovely… in your own odd little way.” “Uh, thank you?” Radu patted my arm. “You’re welcome.”

Death’s Mistress, Karen Chance
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expected. He pulled me away from the fridge, bent me over the marble-topped island and dug his fingers into the tense muscles of my back. I groaned. He started at the base of my spine, teasing out the knots as skillfully as if he’d done it a dozen times before. My body recognized the coarseness of familiar calluses, and a heavy warmth spread through me. He paused to tug the T-shirt off over my head, and I didn’t resist. When he reached my shoulders, which had been tight long before I leaned into the strokes involuntarily, head rolling back as he kneaded away at the tension knotted around the base of my skull. By the time he finished, the pain was gone, although it was possible that I’d fallen madly, irreversibly in love with Louis-Cesare’s hands. I might have said something to the effect, because he chuckled and brushed his lips over the back of my neck, meltingly warm.

Dorina, Death’s Mistress, Karen Chance
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