itsjoysworld.net

While I was driving around today, Halestorm came on the radio. Anyone who knows me, even just a little, knows that I love music. I am always singing, and blasting music around me. (I am in no way a good singer, but I don’t really care)

Halestorm, right now is my favorite band. It takes a lot to get me to change something to my favorite, and I can’t see Lzzy being knocked out anytime soon. 

Hearing Halestorm on the radio, on my ringtone, or just on my playlist, makes me happy.  

I got to see Halestorm at the Wiltern last year.  In fact, that is when my bathroom selfie that I plaster all around was taken. That night was almost a year ago, and it was the greatest night ever. 

I don’t know if you know this, but I really don’t have a lot of friends. ( I actually wrote a post, about why I love all of my internet friends. It made me sound really pathetic, so it is stuck in my drafts. Maybe one day, I will post it, because I love you internet friends.) All of the people I go anywhere with, are clients, or my family.

Now, in that select few, none of them like the same music I do. My dilemma, who was going to go with me?

I called in the one person that is always there for me. Yes, I called my mom. I took my mom to a rock show, and it fucking rocked. 

(I made sure we were there hours, before we needed to be.)

While we were waiting in line, I look over, and Lzzy and Joe walk by to go into the venue. My mind stopped. I helplessly watched them walk by, forgetting how to use my damn tongue. Nobody else noticed them, there I was in all my mute glory pointing uselessly at them. My mom having no idea what I was dragging her into, had no idea why her daughter was standing slack jaw with her finger pointing at two random people. 

When I got my wits back, they had disappeared. 😦

I started doing the patent Joy happy dance. (Yes, it is a real thing.) Now that my brain was back I excitedly started telling my mom. She was laughing at me as I explained,and I am pretty sure she patted me on the head to placate me.

The people in front of us turned around, and I started making friends. It was a dad with his three kid, and it turns out this awesome dad, was a DJ. I can’t remember where, and he was telling us that he interviewed Lzzy, and Arejay, and was going to go do the meet and greet. He had a son, that was around 16, and it was his birthday. The DJ dad told Lzzy, and she said that she would give him a hug when they did the meet and greet. (this is another reason I love Halestorm)

I was telling the kid how freaking lucky he was, as he turned bright red. The bright red kid asked if they were going to be able to go straight into the venue, or if they would have to get back in line. The dad told him that it depended on the rules of the venue, and sometimes you have to go to the end of the line. I like any person with morals told them that if they had to go back outside after the meet and greet, their spots in front of us were saved.

It was sad how shocked he looked. He said he would try and get something signed for me. They left, and I didn’t think anything of it. I just saw it as a nice gesture. They came back, and I moved down so they could get back in line. They were telling us about the meeting, and DJ dad fucking handed me a picture of the band and all of them had signed it. He even told them that they had a super fan out side named Joy. Halestorm has freaking heard of me, people. 

I was flying.

So, we get inside, and after my mom yelled at the security guard checking her purse because he smushed her Tums. (true story) I go to the restroom, the Joy happy dance may have also been a cross of the peepee dance. 

I get in line to get into the stage area, and there is my freaking mom at the guardrails. She is waiving at me, yelling “Is this ok, Sissy?”

I yell back “Fuck yeah”

Now my enthusiasm catches the lady in front of me. She turns around, and says

“This show is going to fucking rock” and puts out her hand for a high five.

I agree with her statement and high five her back.

She then puffs her chest out, to get a chest bump ( I know you think I am cool, I am not. I had to pep talk myself into performing this move. It sounded something like,

you are at a rock concert, you can fucking chest bump someone, get on that shit

 So, I do.

How do I explain what happened next . . .

Ok, do you remember those bracelets, that are straight and you slap them on your wrist, and they would wrap around?

Yeah, that happened. She held me tight, and I couldn’t do a damn thing. She then releases me, and happily skips through the crowd. 

When I reach my mom. She is leaning against the guardrail laughing. She looks at me, and asks

“Are you pregnant, am I going to be a grandma?” 

That’s my mom.

So the opening act comes on, and whatever.

Then they come onstage, and . . . Fuck they are awesome. 

My mom like most moms thinks that I am pretty. She cracks me up, and I can’t tell her that she is wrong, because well . . .I am not a teenager anymore. She keeps telling me that Joe the guitar player was staring at my boobs. I tried to explain to her that the lights make it nearly impossible to see anything at the crowd. She would not hear it.

All night it was “Sissy, he is staring at your boobs.” 

“No, mom he is not.”

It didn’t help my cause when he flicks a guitar pick, and it bounces off of my boob. You know moms, with their I told you so look, yeah totally got that look. 

No, I didn’t catch it, or the second one that bounced off the same spot.

Yeah, my mom was all over that. 

So, Arejay the drummer takes off his shirt, and my mom tells me 

“If I was twenty years younger.” It was my turn to lean on the guardrail laughing.

I got her back with “I am” 

(I need to tell you. Arejay, is happily with love with his fiance Jessie Covet’s.)

Arejay goes down the crowd, and gives everyone high fives. I have to admit that when I touched Arejay, I went total thirteen year old fan girl. Screaming, jumping the whole fucking thing, and I am not ashamed. 

I look over at my mom, and tell her that I high fived Arejay, and she tells me she did too. My mom is awesome. 

That night was fucking amazing, and I had to write about it.  \m/ \m/ 

Today I uttered three words that rocked my world. I don’t think this is going to be an interesting or fun post (I urge you to actually stop reading here.) This is more of a rambling of twaddle, or claptrap (my two new favorite words. I love words that sound nasty but aren’t. Arrector Pili is my favorite) Am I the only person that has words like this? I hope not. . .

What was I saying? Oh, yeah three words. I did actually say these out loud today, to my most mysterious friend I will call them MysteryS. I also have this obsession of giving people nicknames. It is so bad that I don’t have a real name in my contacts on my phone. I also give all of my clients nicknames. Some of them make no sense except to me, but I know people, I see them naked (some of my nicknames you would only understand if you saw my clients naked.)

Wait where was I? Oh, yeah three world rocking words. Deep breath,

I miss writing.

What were you expecting me to say? So I was rambling to MysteryS, and at one point I say

I miss writing 

I actually stopped, and let that statement hit me. Let me tell you it shook me to the core. I understand that editing, and marketing is very important. I am sure most of you are thinking that if I edited this post, I would catch all the grammatical errors, but well . . . screw you ( I just stuck my tongue out at the computer screen, because I am a grown up)

I miss my characters. I miss getting into a story, and seeing what will happen next, as it organically flows through my fingers.

In 2012 I found this website that once a month would do these writing prompts, and you had to finish the story in 500 words or less. I freaking loved the hell out of that site. I was never able to keep it under 500 words, because well I talk and write a lot. That is not the point, it was so much fun. The website started charging to see the prompts, so I stopped doing them.

I forgot all about this until last night.

I went into my dinosaur of a computer, and found the stories that I did finish, when I was able to get the prompts. They aren’t the best stories I have created, but they were my start. Reading them put a smile on my face. You could tell I was enjoying it. It was new to me, and just allowing my mind to create something was mind blowing.Those stupid little prompts made I realized how much I enjoyed writing, and also reading the other’s posts, I got to see how many different ways a story could go. Mine just like everyone else’s were unique, and it was eye opening.

People commented on some of my stories that they liked my take on the prompt.  That made me think about actually writing the story that was running around in my head. Like I said I forgot all about these until last night. I stayed up way to late getting them off of my dinosaur, and onto my laptop.

I know the editing, revamping, and marketing parts are also important. I will give them the respect that they deserve to receive in the writing process, but the writing is my absolute favorite part, and I can not wait to get back to that section.

Yeah, so this post sucked. SORRY. . .

I wrote more to this post, and erased it. It was how one client received the nickname Mr. Pretty Penis. It didn’t really go with this so I erased it. Who knows maybe I will write it another time.

I really hope nobody actually read this whole thing. It was just something I have been thinking about since I said those three words today, and wanted to get them off my chest.

I went to the fair on Sunday, and got a lot of sun. My poor shoulders are now in the process of shedding. I will admit it,and I am not ashamed, I love the fair. I almost ended up with a bunny, and a pygmy goat but JM talked me out of it (total party pooper) So there I was bunny,and goatless waking up and down this row of fried yummy goodness. I was torn on what I wanted to stop my heart. I have a bad time making choices, and everything looked sooooo good. I would get in line for one thing, notice the thing next to it,and get out of line to get into the next line. Poor JM, had to follow me while I lined hopped all the way down the alley. 

When we were walking down the midway, one of the carny’s doing the games yelled out “Hey, Batman.” of course I looked up, because…well I’m Batman. JM started laughing at me, and then pointed down at my tank top I was wearing that had Batman on it. I told him it had nothing to do with my shirt, and everything to do with the fact that he knows my true Batman identity. 

There was a rodeo going on, and even though I grew up in the country I have never been to one. How did you like it, Joy? You ask. Well I will never be able to date a cowboy. I was actually cheering for the baby cows to get away, and after getting some serious stink eye, JM finally lead me away, before they horse tied me…well, maybe  never mind. 

JM also tried to convince me to bungee-jump (JM is also known as the instigator) He almost had me talked into it, but then I pictured it and my imagination got the best of me. I couldn’t help but think of my boobs popping out of my bra, and my nipples lodging into my nostrils. It was a very vivid picture. When I explained this to JM, and I caught up to him while he walked swiftly away from me mumbling to the sky that he had to get stuck with me. We both decided that bungee-jumping probably wasn’t the best thing for me.

Now I know you are wondering what I ended up clogging my arteries with. I got a very phallus looking corndog, yep I went with the classic.  I was telling my client about this, and of course he had to go pervert man, and asks me if I put mayonnaise on my corndog (insert eye roll) I said that no I did not put mayonnaise on my corndog, and I didn’t really trust carny mayonnaise. He was still on is pervert kick, and was thinking about mayo in a very different way. He asked me what carny mayonnaise would taste like, and I answered what I thought carny mayonnaise would taste like (bad decisions, and crystal meth) Sounds right to me. 

So, next time you are at the fair and pass the big plastic jug of carny mayonnaise take a deep breath, and smell the bad decisions, and crystal meth aroma. 

Sorry this was a very random post, but I am still not thinking correctly from all the fried food, because you have to know I also got a funnel cake.

BAM

Sorry, it has been so long since I have posted, but Breaking Faith has been consuming my time. I am tentatively announcing a October release date. The cover should be done the end of this month, beginning of September.  So, be ready for a cover release party.

So, the other day I was massaging one of my clients, and listening to Pandora when the Beatles song, Yesterday came on. (Stupidly, you can start shaking your heads now) I asked if it was the Boy’s to Men song. Mind you my client is a encyclopedia of  music information, and corrected me quickly. Now normally, I am more of the classic rock, or rock persuasion so why I even knew that Boy’s to Men sang this song is beyond me. I was the weird little girl singing Pink Floyd, while my other class mates were listening to. . . honestly I don’t know, maybe Boy’s to Men, lol.

Anyway’s, I was telling my client that I am really bad at lyric’s in songs, and get corrected all the time by JM. Mostly because I sing songs at the top of my lungs, for all to hear. I have had this affliction for as long as I can remember, and JM finds it hilarious. Now of course I am going to give you examples, because I think my lyrics make more sense than some of the real ones.

New Orlean’s….. this one is JM’s favorite, and I still have a hard time with the real lyrics Who are you?  by The  Who.

I know it makes no sense, I always thought it was a song from the tourist bureau of New Orleans…

New Orlean’s oh oh New Orlean’s oh oh…Let me tell you about New Orlean’s …I really wanna go to New Orlean’s

Honestly I could sing the whole song, with my lyrics

After he stopped laughing at this one, I decided why not tell him my other famous mishearings…..

Cannonball….. Yes, I understand the name of the song is Panama, but I didn’t know that at the time and will still sing Cannonball when it comes on.

Red Hot Love….I laughed out loud when JM corrected me, and told me that it was Radar Love, and asked him if he was talking about the dude from M.A.S.H. I hate that show, my dad used to watch it all the time, and I absolutely hated it. My client told me that Radar Love makes sense if I listened to the lyrics, which I guess are about some dude who wants to go to heaven and get his dead girlfriend, who committed suicide. (I am not a good person…needed to warn you now) I told him she probably committed suicide, because she had to watch M.A.S.H reruns. My poor client didn’t even know how to respond to that one.

He put in one about in Purple Haze, excuse me while I kiss this guy. LOL

I countered back with Hold me closer Tony Danza.

Also

When I went to see Bon Jovi, I felt like a moron when I was the only one singing Shot through the heart, with a burning flame.  Oop’s

Oohhh, and I forgot Sophie Hawkins sings this song As I lay me down.. in the background she says One eyed gato. My friend used to scream at me that she was not singing about a half blind spanish cat, but I think it sounds better than whatever she thought it was.

I know I have more, and I will add to them when I think of some.

If you have any that you sing wrong, please feel free to comment, and make me feel better.

I recently had a conversation with a client, that has been on my mind ever since, and so I decided to post about it. I apologize this will be a lot of rambling, but you should be used to that by now.

While I was massaging him, we were talking about my book, and I was explaining how I love, love. I actually get upset when celebrities break-up. I want to see people in love and have it stick.  One of my favorite things to talk about in the massage room is how my client met their significant other.

During this conversation, he said.

“Do you know what I miss? I miss the beginning of a relationship.”

I answered right away, that I knew exactly what he was talking about. It is not that he wanted to cheat on his wife, but just missed the initial stage of love. I started to ramble, and explained to him that is one of the reasons why I write romance.

Everyone knows that feeling when you first meet someone that you instantly connect with. (or I at least I hope everyone has, and it doesn’t have to be someone that is good for you because I have been there also) Your heart beats a little faster, and your stomach flutters when you know you are going to talk to them.

Then there is the first kiss. (spoiler alert. Faith and Killian “Kill” do not kiss until the end of the second book.) The first kiss is one of my absolute favorite things. The anticipation when they lean in to connect their lips to yours. The seconds right before you make contact, when you are wondering what type of kiss you are about to receive.

Is he going to be gentle? a sweeping of the lips.

Is he going to be hard? The physical emotion so strong it manifests through the kiss itself

where will his hands go? gripping your hair, your shoulders, your waist, your…….

I have been told that I invest too much into the thought of the first kiss, but hey, I am me and you get what you get. Because I have such an investment for the first kiss, I made Faith and Kill wait until it was just right. I have had a couple people read the book, and they said they wanted them to kiss immediately but when I finally have them kiss my readers understand. The anticipation allows you to wonder just what is going to happen, and when it finally becomes a reality it is never what you expected. Sometimes it is awful, or uncomfortable, or the sparks that you thought you felt disappears, so to me that makes the anticipation moments before the actual act the best part.

My client and I had a very in depth conversation, on this subject. He couldn’t believe that I was such a romantic, because of my perverted sense of humor. I explained that I hide the romantic part of me, because it is also the sensitive part that can be shattered when love doesn’t conquer all. It did make me happy that I wasn’t the only one that loves the feeling of the initial love.

I am not saying that being in a commented relationship is a bad thing, because it isn’t. I also know there are people talking to their computer screens right now either saying “you have to work at keeping that feeling” or “I still have that feeling, with my significant other.” I get it, and good for you but that ability to keep the love going has to be from how strong the feelings were from the beginning. Maybe they were so strong, that you are able to recall it, almost like a muscle memory, allowing the endorphin’s to rush through your body giving you that giddy first love feeling.

I told you this would be rambling. I don’t expect anyone to actually read this whole thing. Lol

I just wanted to explain why I made Kill and Faith wait so long for their first kiss. I feel very strongly about it, and I have to say that when they finally do kiss, in my mind, it is perfect.

Ok I am going to end this now, if anyone is still reading.

Breaking Faith is currently with my editor, as I have made the revisions that we have discussed. I will be working on the second part, while I the first is in her capable hands. I realized that I have not blogged in quite some time, and I hope you all understand that I am working very hard to get this book out there. So, you can criticize it, and tell me never to write again. (or not)

I had a dream that the police came to my house, and removed all of my technology. They told me that I should never write again, and handed me a stack of pre-filled out cards (birthday, anniversary, thank you…ect) so I would never have to write an original thought again. (yes, I have huge self-esteem issues, but the dream was extremely vivid, so I have a very overactive imagination.)

As most of you know on Twitterverse, and Facebookland I did stand-up comedy for my birthday. This was a bucketlist that I have wanted to do for awhile now. It was awesome, and people actually laughed with, and at me. I was so nervous when I got there, I wanted to chicken out.  JM was supportive in my chickening out, and got yelled at by me for allowing me an out. I gave the guy my five dollar’s for five minutes on stage, and stuck my name in a cup. I was sitting next to JM, trying to stay calm, when a very nice lady comedian (I’m so sorry I forgot your name. I know it started with an S) started to talk to me. She was really nice, and asked me if I wanted her to tell me a joke to calm down. I immediately looked over at JM (with accusing eyes) and asked him why the fuck he wasn’t telling me jokes? She looked at me, and said “You are funny.”

Her joke was “why didn’t the two tampon’s talk to each other?”

I responded, “because they had cotton mouth?”

she started laughing, and reiterating that I would be fine, because I was funny. (the real answer if you want to know was, because they were stuck up bitches.)

We went into the performing area, and I am not going to lie, honestly, there were like ten people there. Two of my clients showed up, to support me.

I was of course the second to be called.

I got on stage, and was shaking. JM told me that I looked all innocent, nervous, and shaking…..and then I opened my mouth, and started spewing some raunchy shit.  He said he looked around, and people were shocked, but then they started laughing. It was awesome. I got the thing recorded, but I can not for the life of me get the DVD to work. I wish I could, because my last couple of jokes were really funny. I have a couple of seconds that my clients recorded on their phone that I have put on YouTube, and I promise when I do it again I will get it recorded.

How was your birthday???? You ask, let me tell you.

JM was gone, and so was everyone else that lives in my house. I was completely alone, and ok with it. I woke up, and lounged around in my jammies. I was going to work on Breaking Faith, but started talking to one of my author friends (Maggie Kaye) that lives near me. She told me that I could not in fact be all alone on my birthday, and told me to get dressed and we were going to lunch. We met (for the first time, and I wasn’t kidnapped) and had an amazing lunch. We ended up talking for three hours. I got home and immediately went back into my jammies. I was sitting at my computer pretending to edit Breaking Faith, when my niece and second mom came in with a fiber-one brownie, with a scoop of ice cream and a candle on it. They sang me happy birthday, and left.  I went back to my pretending, when another friend of mine text me that she was coming over after her spin class with a cupcake, and alcohol.

An hour laterI realized that she wasn’t coming; I went into my kitchen and poured myself a drink Diet Pepsi, and red licorice vodka. (a friend of mine put two airplane sized bottles of vodka into my tip jar after her massage one day) It was really good (I was buzzed instantly. I don’t drink often, and get sloshed quickly.) I was singing incredibly sad songs at the top of my lungs while drinking my vodka laced Pepsi. It was pretty pathetic; I’m not going to lie. I listened to Zzyzx Rd. by Stone Sour like ten times, and I sang it every time. My friend text me later and explained she got sick after spin and went home. After listening to all the sad songs on my phone, I decided I needed sleep. I couldn’t sleep because of the damn caffeine running through my system, so I took a sleeping pill to counteract the caffeine and finally fell asleep around 2:30 in the morning. Happy fucking birthday to me. LOL

P.S, I still haven’t gotten any damn cake!!!!! 

I just realized how random this whole post was, sorry about that. I am now waiting for the cops to come.

I’m sure that most of you have noticed that I collect people. If you are nice to me, I will be loyal to you and help you anyway that I can. I am not sure if this is because I have really low self-esteem and want people to like me, or if I just want to keep finding the good in life. I believe that people come into your life for a reason, and I will try to find the good in our meetings.

Jennifer Wilkerson was someone I was happy to collect, or maybe she collected me. This is our story.

(I was in a really bad place in my life, when I met Jennifer. Don’t judge me to harshly. To put it in perspective I had just left my abusive ex. I was trying to come to terms, that I had allowed that to happen to me. My family and support system was states away. I leaned a lot on my best friend, but even she was strained with the person I was at the time. She stood by me, and I am forever thankful that I have her in my life. Love you Heather 🙂 )

I was dating the first person that showed any signs of attraction to me, at the time. The best way to describe myself is pathetic. I needed something that I should have been seeking in myself instead of others. (I still to this day struggle with this) Sorry went off track there, this is a really hard post to write.

One night I was sick. I was alone in my little ghetto duplex, with the flu wishing that I could make it go away. I decided to call my “boyfriend” to see if he could bring me some medicine. I’m not going to lie, I really wasn’t surprised when a girl answered the phone.

“Why are you calling my boyfriends phone?” She asked.

“That’s is funny he is my boyfriend too, but you can have him. I am done.” I responded hoping that I could catch my eyeball before the dog got it, if it decided to pop out from the pressure in my head. I will tell you I was surprised by her response.

“Are you, Ok?” She asked me.

“No, I have the flu, which I have never had before. I was just calling to get him to bring me medicine. I can not tell you how pathetic I feel right now.” I responded, resigned to the fact that there was no way I could catch my eyeball, and the dog would have a green eyed feast soon.

“Poor, baby. Do you want me to bring you something?” I am not kidding, she actually in all honesty asked me this. This was the amazing person she is.

“No, I am just going to go lie in bed and hope to pass out,” I responded.

I don’t really remember how it happened, it was eleven years ago, but somehow we ended up making plans to go to lunch when I felt better. I made my best friend go with me, just in case this girl was crazy. ( I have a really really bad habit of trusting everyone.) When I walked into the restaurant, and saw Jennifer I knew we were going to be friends immediately. My best friend realized that she wasn’t going to get all stabby on me, and left.

We actually went, and broke up with our “boyfriend” together.  The look on his face is something I will never forget, especially when we told him we understood why he was dating the other because we were both so fucking awesome.

I started hanging out with Jennifer a lot. I hated being alone in my house, my ex would show up unexpectedly and I would let him in. ( I had no self-esteem, also my best friend needed a break) When Jennifer found this out, she would make me come over to her house and watch the Lion King, she loved that movie.

One New Years I made a resolution, that I wasn’t going to flash for the whole year ( I have a  problem with flashing people) Jennifer told me I couldn’t last ten minutes, she was right. (I think I was sabotaged though. I’m pretty sure she made the guy ask me to show them to him)

After awhile I really didn’t like the person I was. I knew it was time to move back to Cali. The ex was getting more aggressive, but then proposed to some girl. NOBODY believed me when I told them he was still showing up at my house. They figured he had moved on, and I was crazy. I called my parents, and had them come get me. We left in the middle of the night, I left everyone I loved there and I missed them so much.

Jennifer called me all the time, telling me to get my ass back to Texas. (I had a voicemail from her, that I lost when I switched cell phone carriers.)  She had me convinced that I should move back to Texas. We had planned to get an apartment together. I was stronger when I moved to California, and thought that I was able to live a more productive life if I moved to Texas than the last time.

On my 23rd birthday I called her, because I hadn’t heard from her that day. We were planning on searching for apartments, and she was excited for my birthday. Her roommate answered the phone, and asked if I had heard from Jennifer. I told her I hadn’t and that was why I was calling. I haven’t heard from her since. She just disappeared.  I miss her dearly, and my birthday always makes me a little melancholy. (If you are doing the math, yes I will be 33 on Monday. Ugh)

As a birthday present if you could go, and like Jennifer’s Facebook page I would really appreciate it. She also has a website that explains about her disappearance.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-Wilkerson-Missing/262236133839041

http://www.findjenniferwilkerson.wagls.com/

I am actually bouncing up and down on my seat, as I write this post.  I have been extremely busy with trying to get Breaking Faith legible, that I have been neglecting everything else lately.  So, realizing that the Forth is almost upon us, I had to take time to explain my absolute adoration for this holiday.

Last week I was massaging a client, when he asked me if he could reschedule for the following Friday. (I am so glad he was face down, because the look I gave him was very insulting) I answered that “no, I would not be working next Friday because it was the Forth of July and it is my favorite holiday.”

He asked me why out of all the holiday’s I would pick the Forth as my favorite? (See, he asked. I didn’t just go off on some random tangent, on the Forth. This time I one was actually prompted.)

I took a deep breath, and launched into my explanation….

I need to first explain that my birthday, is on July 14th. This is what started my love for the holiday. The excitement knowing that presents were near, started right after the grand finale. Also, when I was little,  my grandpa (the greatest man to ever live) confided in me that the fireworks were from him for my birthday. (I feel I need to explain I was a weird child, and as most can tell it still has not left me in adulthood.) I took his words to heart, and every time the multicolored bits of fire would light up the sky, I would just smile and nod at how cool my birthday present was.

There is a villain in this story though. My third grade teacher Mr. G, tried to take away my present. Mr. G was a short asshole of a man. I would get into arguments with him weekly when I was little. One day he asked if any of us knew what the fireworks on the Forth of July represented.  My hand shot up in the air, knowing that I had this one. He pointed at me, and I explained that they were a birthday present, from my grandpa. I will never forget his oily face , as it laughed at me. He then explained to me very harshly that my grandpa was a liar. (I know, right.  What an asshole.)  My little eight year old body was shaking with rage, as I yelled at him that my grandpa was not a liar, and other things that got me sent outside. (To this day I honestly still have anger toward Mr. G.)

Anyway’s, I told my grandpa about this douche waffle\,  and he explained to me that Mr. G was in fact an idiot and unfortunately I would be running into more like him throughout my life.

Besides the fireworks and my birthday, I have other reasons for my love of the Forth. For starters I feel that it is the most unassuming holiday we have. Let me explain, most other holiday’s people are expecting things from you and there is a level of pressure put on most. Valentine’s day, Mother’s day, Father’s day, Christmas everyone is clamoring for the perfect gift to show the people around them that they love them, and they aren’t going to murder them in their sleep. Not the Forth, the Forth is like your high uncle that would take naps on the couch, and never worry about anything but where the chips were.

Now some of you might argue that Thanksgiving is another holiday where you are supposed to bask in the glory of nothing, but I disagree. I feel Thanksgiving has its own stress, people slave over food hoping that it doesn’t make everyone sick, or worried how they are going to resist that second piece of pumpkin pie (f-ing pumpkin pie) I could go on, and on talking shit on the other holiday’s, but I am forcing myself to stop. (you are welcome.)

So bust out the bar-b-que and stuff your face with summertime delicacies, and if you want, when the fireworks are bursting in the sky, you can always think of my weird third grade self, flipping the bird to her evil teacher.

Trying to get onto Bloglovin, lets see if this works

I haven’t added a funny story in awhile, and I was trying to think of what I should write about. I actually put a couple request’s for story ideas on Twitter, and Facebook to see what you wanted to hear. I didn’t get a very good response (I guess I am not as popular as I thought) so I decided to write about something that still makes me laugh when I think about it. This happened a couple of months ago, and evolved into a running joke in my house.

Have you ever been in a situation that you are so flustered; you have no idea how to respond so the most inane response comes out? No, yes, not sure, let me give you an example.

I had the pleasure of witnessing one of these situations, and now I get to share it with you (hopefully it is plural, not singular if it is singular, thanks mom.) I was in the car with Jm, and this man decides to cross the street right in front of us. He was not in the cross walk, and was crossing at a snail’s pace.  As we approach the turtle like pedestrian, I slink in down in my chair preparing for the insults to fly. (I do not do confrontation) Jm rolls down his window, he opens his mouth, and yells out “Good Stuff.” Yes, good stuff.  Jm grips the steering wheel tightly, and stares out the window like something is going to jump out in front of the car at any moment. I could tell he was wishing that I was not in the car when that little gem left his mouth.

I tried, I really tried to stay in control, but I’m me. I look over at him and say “So… were you trying to hit on him, or insult him.” Jm still doesn’t look at me, and I can’t control my laughter when he tells me to “shut up.” Do I stop there? If you know me you know that I have to keep going. “You know I say, you just gave that guy a permanent nickname. He is going to go home tonight, and tell his friends that when he was crossing the street some random guy yelled “good stuff” at him.”  At this point even Jm is laughing, but I keep going. “One of these days you are going to meet a man, and he is going to introduce himself ‘Hi my names Jim, but my friends call me goodstuff.”

I hope I am conveying how hilarious the whole thing was. I was telling one of my patients this story, and she tells me a story with a similar situation.

(oh shit talk about somebody’s ears ringing.  Jm just called me to ask what I was doing. I told him I was writing the Good Stuff Story. He called me a dick.)

My patients dad was driving, and some guy cut him off. Her dad was upset, and when he caught up to him at a stoplight he rolled down his window to tell him off. Her dad was so upset, that he yells out “Nice driving….Hat.” The offender was wearing a hat at the time, and her dad being so flustered, couldn’t think of a better insult. (See it happens to everyone Jm, don’t feel bad.)

I would love to hear anyone else’s witty gems.