Archive for the ‘#Romance’ 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….

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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

So one year ago I went to Vegas. I went to support my friend Rebecca Fisher in her first author signing. This was also the trip that I met an amazing person(s). Rebecca’s table was across for Kristen, her PA Dayna, and next to them was Mary Catherine Gebhard.
The trip a year ago https://itsjoysworld.net/2015/04/14/vegas-or-bust/
We hit it off immediately. These were the girls that I ended up spending the rest of the week with.
Kristen was super supportive of Breaking Faith. This was before I was convinced that I was even going to publish Breaking Faith. Kristen felt that if I had a cover I would maybe be more inclined to publish.
She was amazing and I was a pain in the ass, but she found the cover for Breaking Faith. Honestly, she also made the covers for Surviving Faith and Becoming Faith. I know what those look like. Sorry had to rub that in.
Breaking Faith has been an adventure for me. Kristen helped me with everything. She was seriously as patient with me as a kindergarten teacher. She held my hand (through the phone) and helped me with everything.
Kristen gave me faith in humanity. Kristen along with all the other amazing indies helped me get through something very near and dear to me. She posted that this was around one year since we met. I wanted to write this post to tell her how much I appreciate everything she has done for me. If you loved Breaking Faith then you should be thanking Kristen, because if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have published.
So this is my Thank you, Kristen.
If you haven’t heard of Kristen her links are below. I highly suggest checking her out. You will not be disappointed.
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKristenHope/?fref=ts
http://www.amazon.com/Kristen-Hope-Mazzola/e/B00H85N5QQ/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1459828588&sr=8-1

Yes…I went to The Comedy Store again. I absolutely love that place. I’m telling you one day I will be on that stage making people groan from my raunchy humor. It will happen.
We were supposed to go see Anthony Jeselnik, but JM bought the wrong tickets. So instead of going into the Main room at 8pm we were scheduled to go to the Original Room at 9pm.
JM was so upset that he ruined Valentine’s day. Seriously I was out of the house I didn’t care. With the extra time we decided to walk to Pink Dot to get something to drink. Now I had been fighting a migraine so before we left I took a migraine pill. (this will mean something later in this story) I’m not a big drinker. Honestly, I have a couple drinks show my boobs and pass out, but I wanted to have fun so I decided to let loose and hopefully the girls would stay put.
I bought a little bottle of vodka and poured it into my diet Pepsi. We went back to the Comedy Store and people watched while I sipped on my drink. JM left me to go pee so I did what anyone would do I made friends with the bouncer. I was asking him what I needed to do to sign up for open mic. We talked about what I needed to do, and we are now Facebook friends. Yay me.
JM came back and soon my drink was empty, and my bladder was full. When I came out of the bathroom Anthony Jeselnik was standing right in front of me. I debated for a second or two if I should fangirl decided against it and went back to JM. By coincidence he followed me to the front of the building.
I walked up to JM and told him that Anthony Jeselnik was behind me. JM looks over my shoulder and looks at me saying, “he is looking at you. What did you say?” It makes me sad how hard I had to convince him I was good and didn’t say a thing.
So Anthony made his round probably looking at the sold out line and went back behind the building.
Flashfoward it is now close to 1 in the morning. I have dutifully finished my two drink minimum. Now my bladder is full again. I stood up and realized I was buzzed. I didn’t take in the fact that I had taken a migraine pill earlier that day. I was standing in line doing the pee-pee dance when one of the waitresses told me I could use the Main Room bathroom. I was so afraid I was going to get lost, but I made it safe and sound.
While I was walking to a stall I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I started to tell them “I’m sorry” for cutting them off and came face to face with my reflection.
Yes..I was talking to a mirror. That was when I realized I was more tipsy than I thought. I don’t know about men but when you have been drinking more than you usually do women will actually get board while peeing. While I was sitting down laughing at how stupid I am another woman walked in yelling that she had just got kicked out of the men’s bathroom. She was pissed (pun intended) because she was just going to pee in the urinal. This made me feel better because I may have been talk to your reflection in the mirror drunk but I wasn’t pee in a urinal drunk.
The rest of the night went by with tons of laughs. One comic dubbed me Big Tits McGee.
I just realized most of this post was bathroom related. Sorry about that.
I hope you all had a fabulous Valentine’s day.