I don't think I'm easily intimidated. Usually I walk around as if I'm about eight inches taller and fifity pounds heavier with arms that have a greater circumference than dry twigs.
(I do have wrists that seem to extend from my hands to my shoulders and that's just something I've had to come to terms with)

But when someone asks me for my card I get all sweaty-fied.

I don't have a card.

Oh sure, I have a whole load of other people's cards. They range from dentists to veterinarians to contractors to caterers to insurance saleswomen to florists to -

and the list goes on.

Their cards are spot on - to the point. They include the usual helpful info like name, address, telephone number, email (love the email because it gives me one more way to avoid direct human contact) and most importantly WHAT they do.

That last part is my problem and why I don't have a card. As a working artisit and writer sometimes I do lots of different things and sometimes I do nothing observable at all. It occurs to me that I could have many cards made up. If I had unlimited funds and storage space weren't an issue that's not such a bad idea.

Here's a few that I might consider.

Nancy Coffelt - Artist - master at choosing the perfect yellow for the polkadots on the elephant's tutu

Nancy Coffelt - Artist - desperately trying to figure out what an art director means by her "per your usual style" remark when it seems as though what she wants isn't my usual style at all but is afraid to ask another stupid question.

Nancy Coffelt - Artist - reluctant badgerer of galleries as to whether anything has sold lately or just where is my check anyway?

Or these:

Nancy Coffelt - Writer - Professional starer at empty monitor screen

Nancy Coffelt - Writer - Caller of friends to read latest work to them and then ask, "Does this suck?" And then before they answer say, "It does suck, doesn't it?"

Nancy Coffelt - Writer - Seasoned wait-er specializing in gathering cobwebs while an editor is considering a book and when that becomes unbearable contacting them to "check in" when it is really a pathetic attempt to get them to say, "Wow! This is fantastic! You will be rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams!"

Or:

Nancy Coffelt - Self-employed person which is really another way of saying 'does not play well with others'.

Nancy Coffelt - Self-employed person proficient at missing section D clause G lines a and b on a contract and later realizing with a horrible sick feeling how screwed I really am.

Nancy Coffelt - Self-employed person skilled at putting off tax stuff until the last minute . Where are my receipts? Where are my RECEIPTS? WHERE ARE MY @#$%& RECEIPTS!!!!

That's nine cards so far and they describe a good week.

Really, they could say anything - from color-er to daydreamer to frequent snacker to goofer-offer to pulling an all-nighter to meet an impossible deadliner.

It could be worse. There could be 'serial killer' after my name. That's pretty bad.

Or cannibal.

So don't be asking me for any business cards. There's none to be found here - unless - you want a card for a good dentist or veterinarian or contractor or caterer or insurance saleswoman or florist - hey, I've got lots of those.