Archive for the ‘rebel’ Category

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….

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………