I have been trying to reinven my brand and apparently that means disappearing for a year.

I’ve been yelled at to get my butt back in gear. I’m also supposed to get my newsletter up and running. 

So apparently more to come.

On a different note. I got an awesome tattoo

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This will be a hodgepodge post. I’m sitting here waiting for the next batch of whoopie pies to cook, and I started to think about tomorrow. Really think about what I’m thankful for, and the answer that came to me was so damn cliche. 

I’m thankful for my family and friends. But this year I’m super, uber, ginormously thankful for my mom.

If you keep up with my posts you’ll know that my mom had a stroke this year. Out of the blue, and so sudden it knocked me down. I never ever thought something would happen to her. She is the strongest person I know. 

If you didn’t figure it out, I’m a huge ball of anxiety with a heaping side of neurotic. Every night, I go over what I’m going to do the next day. When my day is thrown off or doesn’t go according to plan I have a HARD time adjusting. Change freaks me out. Things I can’t control freak me out.

Now that I’ve confessed that you can imagine how much my world went into a tailspin when my mom, my rock, had a stroke. I hadn’t even thought to plan that would happen. 

My mom always has a way of going with the flow. To this day and beyond I wish I could be more like her. She is amazing. She never seemed to have anything faze her. Why couldn’t I have inherited that gene?

Even with all my weird and sometimes (all the time) over exaggeration my mom accepted me. I never worried about her love faltering, even on my worst of freak outs. The thought of losing her tore me up inside. I couldn’t lose the one person that truly understands me. Who won’t turn away from me because my brain never stops and I want everything to work out the way I created it in my imagination. Who understands my need to stress about the most minute thing. 

Yes, I know that sounds selfish. I don’t care she’s mine. 

When my mom was in the hospital her sisters were there. My mom has 6 sisters and 2 brothers. Even with some strain they were there for me when it counted. And for that I’m thankful. My aunts kept saying that it could be worse and she was lucky she pulled through ( there was some religious talk, but I’m glossing over that because I don’t want that argument. We do not see eye to eye on that, but I digress.) I know they werw trying to make me feel better, but I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted my mom safe and healthy. I didn’t need this scarr to appreciate her. My mom is my best friend. Hell, look at my Halestorm posts. I’ve taken my mom to two concerts. We have so much fun together.  When we see each other we stay up until all hours in the morning talking. Het stroke was just a cruel twist that I could have happily lived without.

I’ve been feeling like I’m on the verge of going insane since August 23. She had to have surgery again yesterday. I didn’t know about it until my dad told me as she wad going into the OR. Talk about throwing my whole day off its axis. They added more coils andd another stint, and she is doing amazing, but…IT WASN’T PLANNED…

So this rant was just to show how thankful I am to have my mom. I wouldn’t have survived with another mom. She is my soul mate. She was supposed to guide me through this life, and I still need her.

Now because I don’t need anyone butthurt ….

I’m also very thankful for…..

my dad. He is the best grandpa I could ask for. He gave me my crazy brain. I realized this even more when we were up all night in the ICU while my mom slept doing crossword puzzles.

My brother for hugging me when I wanted to scream

Johnboy for being the best hubby ever. He is seriously the most supportive person in the whole world. When I told him about the books and comedy he pushed me to do it. I could keep going. He is the best.

My boys for driving me crazy and making me proud. They taught me so much. Especially how to go with the flow. I’m still trying to learn. They make me laugh and I adore them 

My second set of parents. They have helped and supported me. I can’t express how much they mean to me. They have given me a safe place to become myself, and my successes could not have happened without them.

My sisters for being there for me. For letting me pretend I’m a rebel and standing behind me being the true rebels. 

My niece. They are amazing. I wish I could have been as strong as they are when I was their age. They are going to make this world a better place with their strength 

My nephews for showing me there will be good men in this world. They will make someone so happy and I know they will help me with my book characters.

My friends. They have been so supportive also. I can’t believe how many people I have in my corner. 

Thank you everyone.

 Hug your loved ones tight and let them know you love them….

 

 

I was accepted in the Worlds Wittiest Woman Competition in Flappers Burbank. I’m sure they just picked everyone that applied, but I’m taking it and running with it.

The Wittiest Woman Wins Contest Prelim 2
Starring: Riley Silverman

MODCLOTH’S #FASHIONTRUTH, INTIMATE APPAREL, PAJIBA.COM, HUFFINGTON POST , ALL JANE FESTIVAL

November 8th, 2016 at 9:30PM

Flappers Comedy Club Burbank- Yoo Hoo Room
102 East Magnolia, Burbank, CA 91502

My set time is tomorrow Tues. Nov 8th at 9:30. I know it sounds late, but technically it is is 8:30 because I know you haven’t adjusted to the time change yet. Tickets are on sale for $10 up until the event then they go up to $15.

It’s audience picks the winner…SOOOO If you are around and want to see some fabulous lady comics but ultimatetly vote for me, come on down to Burbank. I hope to see you there. I’m super excited this will be the first time I’ve performed since my mom had her stroke and I can’t wait to hold a microphone again. (Don’t worry I practiced my set at an open mic, and several times in the shower)

The show is a five day event with two shows a night. There will be ten winners picked from the show, and they will move onto Nov 28ths final round.

Ahhhhhhhh….I’m so excited. I hope to see you there

Facebook event

Ticket Info

This is a my story of how I ended up in Facebook Jail. I didn’t realize how many people have similar stories, but this is mine.

Let’s start from the beginning….

I met Mr. Facebook years ago. I was a stunned by Mr. Facebook’s good looks. His dazzling blue eyes (get it? Facebook’s logo is blue)and his immense social media presence. I wanted to be a part of Mr. Facebook’s tribe so I timidly joined in.

Wanting to be in the Facebook family I hastily checked the, I Agree, button on the large contract that was thrust in my face. Admittedly, I didn’t read the fine details on Mr. Facebook’s firm rules of conduct. Even if I did I would have still signed on.

Mr. Facebook lured me in. Asking me about my day. Asking me what I was thinking. He encouraged me to share pictures of my loved ones, of my ups and downs, and allowed me to connect with people in his tribe so easily it was mind boggling.

Throughout our relationship I started to notice that Mr. Facebook had some dominant tendencies. There were times he would hide my pictures and my posts. He also was known to hide my friends posts from me as well. It started to get really fishy when Mr. Facebook asked me for money in order to show my posts to the people who would enjoy them the most.

Mr. Facebook isn’t alone in his reign of control. He employees ugly smelly trolls to search for things that Mr. Facebook would deem wrong in his pristine little community.

On Halloween I felt the full extent of Mr. Facebook’s wrath. I posted a picture of a weenie dressed as a ghost.

 

No longer was I in Mr. Facebook’s good graces. No longer did he want to know what was on my mind.I was summoned into Mr. Facebook’s lair to receive my sentence. His right hand man pulled me into the room and threw me on the floor scoffing at me in disgust. I’m not positive, but I think Mr. Facebook’s henchman’s name was the notorious Grammar Nazi.

Mr. Facebook came in wearing low slung jeans and no shirt (a la Christian Grey style) The troll that turned me in was lurking in the shadows to remain anonymous. Only their putrid smell was present.

“What should we do with her?” Grammar Nazi hissed kicking me with his steel-toed boot.

“It was just a joke. The weenie was covered. There are worse posts than that. Hell, look at the nasty political posts, and pictures of abused animals,” I cried wheezing on the floor.

“Silence,” Mr. Facebook roared. “Solitary confinement for four days.”

I opened my mouth to fight for my right to publish what I wanted to on my own account. To explain I was a grown woman that had grown out of time-out. Before anything could leave my mouth, Grammar Nazi stuffed a ball gag in it.

I was hefted up and dragged down a dark dank hall kicking and screaming. I heard Mr. Facebook and the troll cackling over my gurgled cries.

Grammar Nazi pulled me through a cement room where women of all shapes and sizes were pressed against the wall throwing him the evil eye. A single light bulb hung in the middle of the damp room. Before being thrown into a tiny room in the corner, Grammar Nazi wrapped my wrists in thick black tape behind my back. He forcefully pushed me into the little room and locked the door, telling me he would be back in four days.

Tears raced down my face, running around the ball gag. The salt coating my tongue.

“Psst, don’t cry doll,” a woman whispered to me.

Even though I was locked in a little room, I was still able to see the people surrounding me. My eyes locked on a woman with a sad smile trying to soothe me.

“We’re all in here because we did something to piss off Mr. Facebook. I’m Sydnee by the way.”

My eyes looked down at her trying to figure out what she did wrong. She must have been able to read my face, because you answered my silent question.

“I liked too many things. Mr. Facebook took away my ability to like anything for three days. I get my thumbs back tomorrow.”

My eyes widened in horror when I she raised her hands up so I could see them, and noticed her thumbs were taped to her hands.

“It’s not so bad. I could have been, Greta.” She pointed to a woman trapped behind a glass partition. Her hands were pressed against the glass as she stared longingly at the women in the room. “Greta,joined too many groups too fast for Mr. Facebook’s liking. She can’t join a group for seven days. Poor girl.”

The woman shook her head as she pointed at another lady leaning against the wall. “That’s Susan.”

The woman Sydnee was pointing at raised her hand in a wave. Half of her fingers were taped down at the knuckles, her thumbs visible.

“Susan posted too many posts for her book. Mr. Facebook took away her ability to post. She can still like things and comment on others posts.”

My mind spun as I looked around at the women stuck in the jail cell. There were so many all of them stifled in different ways, because they did something to anger Mr. Facebook.

Now as I sit here in Mr. Facebook’s jail. I watch other people post pictures and jokes and have no means of communicating with them.

Be CAUTIOUS of Mr. Facebook’s rules, or you can end up in jail.
AND

BEWARE OF THE TROLLS. THEY LURK ABOUT EVERYWHERE………

Hello,

Remember me?

Yeah, me neither.

I have been telling myself that I need to write a blog post. I guess I’m finally taking my advice and doing it. I’ve become rather bossy inside my head.

Life has decided to give me a big middle finger.

I’m going to try and make this short, and see where it gets me. My kids are also on fall break. What does that mean? It means I’m secretly writing this on my phone hoping to get through it before someone gets hungry or hurt.

Aug. 21st I went and preformed at the Hollywood Improv. I was trying to juggle everything so blogging kind of went on the back burner. Also I had a book coming out Sept. 13th that I was getting ready for.

How was your set, you ask…

https://youtu.be/TGEOSsFCo1k

It was amazing. The audience seemed receptive to my brand of Jackassness. I’m pretty sure I floated off the stage.

That was on a Sat. Three days later the foundation I was firmly standing on shook. I’m still trying to recover my footholds and feel secure in day to day life 

I received a text from my dad saying that my mom…MY MOM…had a stroke. If you have been one if my loyal followers you would know how special my mom is to me. She is the one I take to Halestorm. She is the one I word vomit all my problems to 

My dad is the worst at relaying information. Hell, he’s the worst at answering the phone. I’m pretty sure when he sent me the text he pressed send looked down at the electronic rectangle, shrugged, thought I don’t need this any longer, and chucked it into a magical ocean that appeared to take the only form of communication I had with him. Suffice it to say it was the longest three hour drive of my life.

When I got to the ER my mom could only say Hi and I love you. She kept repeating it over and over again, while internally I was begging myself not to have a complete break down.

In the ICU she was only allowed to have two visitors. I convinced my dad and brother to go get some rest. Here is the thing about ICU they don’t want you to stay. I had one hard chair and nothing else. It didn’t matter I wasn’t leaving her.

That night she was woke up every hour. I was with her throughout the whoke thing. It was also the night she looked at me and said, “I love you, Joy” then turned aroud and corrected herself to,  “I love you, Sissy.” Yeah, the tears flowed.

The second night they realized I wasn’t leaving and a nice nurse brought me a blanket and pillow. 

My mom had a stroke that was caused by a clot breaking free from an aneurysm. Aneurysms run in my family. My grandma and aunt had one both at 56. (in about 10 years I suppose I’ll go get checked) Her aneurysm didn’t bleed or burst. It just had a piece break off. Of course my mom doesn’t do anything half assed. She had a huge aneurysm in the front of her brain in the middle of where the artery branches. 

She had surgery where an amazing surgeon and team placed a coil in the aneurysm and two stints on each side. 

I’ve never understood people wearing sports jerseys, but I can tell you I would proudly wear a jersey with her surgeons name on the back. Also her PT, Norman. He was a PT god, I watched him use PNF stretching where she moved her leg for the first time. He also let me do the PNF on her. Yeah, always the teachers pet. Or at least my mom teased me of that. 

Keeping myself busy in the hospital

Every day my mom improved. She was in the hospital for a month. I’m so proud of her. She is now home. She can walk without her walker ( I named it, Paul) She still gets frustrated, but it is amazing to see her get better and stronger every day.

 

Also during that time I pushed my book release back to Sept. 27th. I worked my ass off to get everything done but I had a lot on my plate. 

I made teasers and banners of my beautiful book cover. I ordered paperbacks for the signing I have on Oct. 22nd. On my release date I was so damn excited. Until around 11 o’clock when I got a message asking if I meant to spell Survivng wrong.

Nope

No

I sure did not

I looked at that damn cover over a thousand times and not once did I recognize it was wrong. 

Ughhhh

I called my printer but it was too late to find out of theg had been printed yet. The awesome customer service lady said she would email me if she was able to pause the shipping. Imagine my hysterical laughter when she sent me my tracking number. 

I owned up to it live on Facebook. Explaining that Surviing Faith paperbacks will be at the signing because I didn’t have time to order another set.

Readers were supportive and understanding. Some even saying they wanted the misspelled cover. The cover is now fixed so any other books I order will be spelled correctly.

So that has been my life lately. I’m still crusing along. I have a paperback giveaway going on right now. To enter all you have to do is add a review of Surviving Faith to amazon. I’ll pick the winner live at the author by the beach signing Oct. 22Nd. Also keep an eye out for the costume I’ll be wearing. 

Hollywood Improv

A review for TRANSPARENT. LOVE IT

Addicted to Reviews

41IG4ZfwozLMorley Rivers lived a quiet life until she brought home a portrait of a hottie from the 19th century.
Alexander Brynes had been cursed when his plea to a gypsy went horribly wrong. He was tethered to his portrait, unable to communicate with the people around him, until Morley came along.
Alexander is positive Morley is the key to break his curse. He wasn’t expecting her to break into his heart.
As the curse starts to crack Alexander sheds his invisible state while making his true feelings known.
If they succeed in breaking the spell, Alexander will be sent back to his time on Halloween allowing him to repair the damage his disappearance caused, but at the same time leaving a broken heart in his wake.

My Review: I loved this book. I died laughing so many times. This reminded me a lot of “The Knight in Shining Armor” by…

View original post 80 more words

July 14th, my birthday. I went live and embarassed the hell out of myself. In Surviving Faith I wrote a song. Now when I wrote the song had the JackholeS in mind. So vocals in my head were done by Kill. Van would be on drums and D and Jet would have bass and guitar. 

The song in my head had some awesome solos in it to display the talent of all the band members. So me. A woman singing it doesn’t do it justice. Also I don’t have the greatest singing voice. So be nice when watching. I screwed up one of the lasr verses and my youngest son walked in at the end. I haven’t watched it yet either, but I heard at some point it glitches and my eyelids start fluttering. 

It took us three times to get Facebook to cooperate with us. It kept kicking me off. Most likely because it hated my singing voice 

Broken Faith

A friend of mine pulled me into the ghost writing business. It has been a big adventure and it has allowed me to explore more of my writing ability. I can’t go into details of the books we have been working on, but it has definitely yanked us out of our comfort zones.
The most surprising thing was how much I enjoyed it. We enjoyed it so much that we have decided to expand our ghost writing and create our own business. This is extremely exciting for both of us. We have already had some satisfied customers.
If you are interested, please check out our website.

http://theghostinggals.blogspot.com/p/hire-us_6.html

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Normally I avoid conflict like the plague. I don’t really feel like my opinion matters. I’m just me. Confidence has always been an issue for me, and it is something I don’t see changing anytime soon.
A certain person’s comments has pulled me out of my non-conflict blanket fort. He wrote a statement basically telling a woman to, “To go eat their last Dairy
ueen Blizzard and then hang yourself in the closet.” He claims he doesn’t stand for any type of bullying. Yeah…..
This man states he is a personal trainer wanting to assist people in becoming more healthy. How is telling someone this healthy?
I was hoping he was just writing in the heat of the moment. I am not in anyway standing up for his statement, but most people are guilty of saying something they are not proud of when they are immersed in emotions. The sad thing is he seems to still be in this haze of anger and more awful things keeps spewing out of his fingers and onto his social media sites.

So I left this post for a couple of days. I wasn’t even sure I would come back to it. My body image has been the worst it has been in years. Harper Sloan has a challenge out today. The #perfectlyimperfect challenge post a selfie without wearing any make-up. And I can’t do it. I can’t even post a picture if me wearing make-up.
As an author I realize how powerful words are. They can knock the breath out of you. I try to remember (contradiction coming) words actually do not have power unless you give it the power to knock you over. You can disregard any words you here.
You. Do. Not. Have. To. Give. Them. Power.
I have said this many times, and I can’t seem to allow it to penetrate my brain. I allowed words and actions to take what little confidence I had away. I will believe a you’re funny compliment. I will not take a you are beautiful compliment. Honestly I feel like that person is a liar.
In my stand up class there was a girl who oozed confidence. She was incredible and I couldn’t understand how she was so comfortable being her. The funny thing was she couldn’t understand how I couldn’t stand being me.
I joke and tell people I have sidewalk written across my forehead. I will not stick up for myself. If someone does me wrong I will justify it in my head. Making them more important than my feelings.
I will say I get hurt when I’m taken advantage of. Even if it’s something as minute as being cut off in line. I feel that person is validating my thoughts that I am less important.
When I get ready in the morning I refuse to look in the mirror longer than it takes to make sure everything is in place. The mirror gets my middle finger more times than I would like to admit. Four years ago I lost 70lbs. The sad truth is I still didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. I still hated what I saw.
So for anyone to tell someone that they are not worthy of living the life they are living is disgusting to me. It shows they actually feel they feel they are more important than the other person.
I wish we could treat people with respect. Because most of us are fighting our own internal battle. We don’t need outside sources to influence our feelings in a negative way. Because from experience even if you lose weight you can still be just as unhappy as you were when you were carrying those extra pounds.
Think of others around you and try to be kind. They are most likely struggling. Telling someone what to do to make them feel better might not be what they need, so just be nice
Don’t be like me.
Feel important because you are important.
Make changes to better yourself, but love yourself as you are in this moment.
This post is going to have a ton of typos. If I re-read it I will not post this, and I’ve already been holding onto it long enough.

Image  —  Posted: May 9, 2016 in authors, book lovers, comedian, humor, love yourself, perfectly imperfect
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Ok, here is the link to my set at the Hollywood Improv.

I had so much fun, and I can’t wait to do it again. It sucks because I got some bad advice right before I left for the venue. My sister told me I needed to keep my hair down. I never ever ever leave my hair down. I told her I didn’t want to because I would fuck with it. She said it would be ok because then I wouldn’t be messing with the microphone. Well stupid me I left it down. I was nervous on stage but my hair playing made me look even more nervous than I was. The cardinal rule is to not do anything out of the norm when you are doing something new. Well I didn’t listen to myself.
I hope you enjoy the video. I can’t wait to do it again. I know with more practice I’ll be able to get my timing down.
The whole class was amazing by the way. I was so proud of them. Everyone of them brought their A game and I was excited to be in the same show as they were. Our teacher wrote us after the show, and complimented us even more.
This is a piece of the email he sent us.

“Great job on Sunday! How do I know it was a great job? Because the sound guy at the Improv said this was the best class show he’s ever seen and even better than some of the shows he’s seen booked at the Improv. This guy has been at the Improv for over a year and is also a stand up of 10 years and probably has seen more shows than you can imagine, so this is a helluva compliment!”

So here you go. If you enjoyed my performance I would appreciate you sharing the link.