I wrote this in 2014 for a friend going through some stuff. Today this felt like something I needed to hear
Don’t lose hope especially on the days that seem hopeless.
Life is messy.
You will be the lone article of clothing in a wash machine. A single sock…being agitated, rinsed, and spun. You will feel beaten, turned upside down, and inside out.
You will find a rhythm.
You will find a routine.
You will adapt.
You may not be as productive as you have been. Mr./Ms I need to do this or that
You will find a routine.
Just a warning.
When your routine gets comfortable the wash machine will start again.
Once again you will adapt.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
You will find time for your passion. Even if it is snippets. It may even help keep you sane.
Keep the hope. This may all be for nothing.
Take care of yourself. That is important.
DON’T STOP LAUGHING.
DON’T FEEL BAD FOR LAUGHING.
Archive for the ‘love yourself’ Category
Relationship of writing a book
Posted: February 5, 2019 in amazon, authors, book blast, book blog, book lovers, book release, book writing, editing, facebook, humor, love yourself, new business, writing, writing processTags: #author, #blog, #book, #bookrelease, #customerservice, #frustrated, #goals, #healing, #iartg, #love, #Romance, #writingprocess, indieauthor, writing
I’ve been asked a couple times what my process is for writing a book, and this is the best way I can think of describing it.
Writing a book is like being in a relationship.
<The introduction>
The moment the book idea pops in your head. It’s exhilarating and new. You’re shy at first, afraid to tell many people about it because you’re unsure of what’s going to happen.
<Honeymoon stage>
Writing begins, the first draft. This is it. You’re committed and it’s shiny and new. Your book takes over your life. It’s all you think about, and you will ditch the 3 F’s, family, friends, and food to be with it. It brings a smile to your face. You want everyone to know about it. You’re proud and it’s yours.
<Middle of the relationship>
The first draft is done. You’ve reread it until you’re eyes have gone cross. You find annoying traits you’ve never noticed before. Words are repeated, and if you see it again you’ll pull your hair out. You attempt to change it to make it better, and you do, it’s just not the same as it was in the beginning. You’re both growing and learning about yourself. In truth you’re kind of over the whole thing, and there are times you hate it with a burning passion. But you stick with it. You try to recall the giddiness of used to elicit, and sometimes you do. You read a sentence or chapter that reminds of you why you loved it in the first place.
<Couple Counseling>
You need help. You need someone else with fresh eyes to take over. You send it to your editor (counselor) It’s nerve wracking. You’re letting someone else in your relationship, and you’re hoping they will tell you it’s salvageable.
<Break up>
It’s time to publish. You’ve done all you’ve can, and it’s time to release your book. You will always have fond memories of your time together, but you can’t do anymore. You’ll put it out, and hope someone will see the beauty in it you did. You helped create it so you’ll always be proud of it. It’s heartbreaking, and a relief at the same time. You may go immediately into another relationship, or wait a while before starting the whole exhausting process again.
<Rekindle>
Not all the time, but every once in a while you take your book back. Maybe you saw something else that would make it better. Whatever the reasons it is still going to end up in a breakup.
My advice is keep getting into relationships. Don’t stop writing, and be happy with every break up. Be proud.
Life is shorter than a little person standing in a hole. Even if you believe in heaven or reincarnation or any of that other nonsense, this is the only time you’ll be you. So make every day you’re you the best one you can. You’re only you once.
Happy Endings Massagecast
Posted: August 11, 2018 in book release, comedian, comedy, comedy store, conspiracy, female comic, humor, love yourself, massage, massage therapist, massagecast, new release, podcast, stand up comedy, stand-upTags: #comedystore, #conspiracytheories, #femalecomedian, #femalecomic, #goals, #healing, #holistic, #malecomedian, #malecomic, #massagetherapist, #massagetherapy, #relax, #standup, #thecomedystore, comedian, comedy, conspiracy, humor, massage, massagecast, podcast
Sooooo.. I started a podcast. I’ve been beyond busy. What can I say? I’m a big girl of course my plate would be full
Don’t worry, Leap of Fate is on its way. Van and Jessie are almost ready.
Happy Endings is a podcast where I massage comedians and other entertainers while they answer questions. I have 18 episodes ready to post. I posted 2 and will post a new one every Monday.
Right now they are available on Soundcloud and Stitcher. Itunes and I are not on speaking terms. Hopefully they get their act together soon.
At first started asking the comics about comedy, but after editing them to get rid of the long pauses I decided to change the format. Like all good things this podcast will evolve into something better.
It’s a unique idea why not be a unique interview?
The podcasts I have done obviously are not going to change, but I think the podcast is starting to find its legs. I can’t wait to see how the podcast will grow.
Enjoy listening!!!
My Me Too joke got me too’d
Posted: April 3, 2018 in #metoo, comedian, comedy, comedy store, female comic, Hollywood, humor, love yourself, stand up comedy, ventingTags: #frustrated, #jerkoffonme, #love, #metoo, #thecomedystore, comedian, comedy, comic, humor
It recently came to my attention that myself and another comic are in fact using the same me too joke.
Because this person has a bigger career and they did it on TV they’ve claimed it. And that’s….Hollywood.
They beat me in the equivalent of, I licked it it’s mine.
And through this whole thing all I could think is, damn I wish they would have jerked off in front of me and came on my face. It would have hurt less.
Now, I will go on the comedy record and say, I’m not accusing this person of stealing. It was a very easy set up and punchline. Butt fuck (two t’s on that butt) it hurt.
This is my goodbye to that joke. I refuse to be labeled a hack by using others jokes.I just hope my tongue is quicker next time
Happy Thanksgiving
Posted: November 24, 2016 in #Romance, authors, comedian, comedy, humor, love yourself, rebel, stand up comedy, ventingTags: #love, thankful, thanksgiving
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….
DIARY FROM FACEBOOK JAIL
Posted: November 3, 2016 in #Romance, amazon, authors, comedian, comedy, facebook, facebook jail, facebook live, humor, love yourself, rebel, ventingTags: #author, #facebookjail, #frustrated, #grownadult, #thestruggleisreal, #timeout, facebook, humor
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………
I’m alive??
Posted: October 6, 2016 in #Romance, amazon, authors, book blast, book blog, book boost, book lovers, book release, comedian, comedy, facebook live, giveaway, Halestorm, Hollywood, Hollywood Improv, humor, improv, indies, love yourself, new release, stand up comedyTags: #book, comedy, Hollywood Improv, hospital, new release, stand-up
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…
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.
A Blizzard of Emotions #PerfectlyImperfect
Posted: May 9, 2016 in authors, book lovers, comedian, humor, love yourself, perfectly imperfectTags: #perfectlyimperfect #loveyourself #blizzard #dairyqueen
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.
heyitsmejoy
itsjoysworld.net 