Posts Tagged ‘#author’

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………

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

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

Soooo….if you’ve been reading my blog, you know I have a weird desire to do comedy. In fact I did it once two years ago for my birthday. Here’s that link
Birthday Disaster
I have a friend (actually my first professional massage) that does a lot in the comedy world. He is hilarious (so is his adorable girlfriend that is an amazing photographer also. Jenny’s website)
While Derek Derek’s IMDB was being tortured by my elbows. We were talking about how he got into comedy. He told me about a class Tom Clark (Tom’s website) taught that he had taken. Long story short, he got a hold of Tom and coincidentally he had just started a class. I missed the first one, but I jumped right in.
This class was a big step for me. I battled my anxiety the whole time. Thankfully, not only was the teacher supportive the rest of the class was as well.
It was hard walking into the class because the rest of the students were on a whole other level than I was.
A lot of them have acting or comedy experience, podcasts, spots on a sports team, or just confidence up the ass Then there’s me. But I did it and not once ended up in the fetal position crying. (That pose is difficult with boobs)
Monday was my last class and it was bitter sweet. Everyone was so good, and I even got a couple of laughs.
So this Sunday my class and myself will be performing at the Hollywood Improv at 5pm. At the door it is $5 if you give the secret word (class) it is a two item minimum (food, drinks, handjobs) Someone from my class told me to tweet about it so I felt the blog would be a good way to get this out there.
Anyways….I have no friends so if anyone who wants to come and support me and laugh at the rest of my class I would love to see you there.

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.

As most of you know I live in Southern California. The land of golden sunshine. This may be hard for you to believe…but sometimes it gets cold. (I swear I could actually hear the collective sigh of disgust from anyone living east of me)
For Christmas I received a heated throw blanket. I loved it. It kept me warm and cozy at night while I edited Surviving Faith. It was the blanket form of a shot of Jager.
Then it happened I reached over my bed to press the button of heat, (yeah that could go another way) and the light didn’t go on. I refused to think my heated friend had left me so I went through the house trying different outlets. I finally admitted defeat, but refused to go quietly into the night. So like anyone who wants to vent their personal business, I tweeted my experience.
I cannot tell you my surprise when Therapedic tweeted me back telling me to email them. Honestly I didn’t think they would be able to do anything because I didn’t have the receipt since it was a Christmas gift. Because I didn’t think they would be able to do anything I sent them the weirdest email just so I would have something to feel better about myself.
This is what I sent them…
I tweeted that the heated throw I received for Christmas, died yesterday, February 3. Surprisingly, I received a tweet back to send an email to this address.
Unfortunately, I do not have the receipt because it was a gift. So I’m not sure if you can do anything. I will commend you for your customer service. Good Job.
I loved my blanket all the way until it’s death. I’m wearing black today for my mourning period.
I used it at night when I was editing my fourth novel. Yesterday the lights wouldn’t turn on. I tried it with many different outlets. Because I honestly didn’t want to admit my blanket had departed to the heated bed in the sky.
I’ve been very careful not to bend the wires and at no point was it wadded up in a ball. (When editing ones mind does drift, and I’m not afraid to admit I’ve procrastinated many times by reading the warning tag)
I tried to be treat my blanket with the up most respect as I have a tendency to have very bad luck with Christmas presents. If it’s broke it was mine. Anyways that is my sad tale of my deceased blanket.
Thank you for listening.
Joy Eileen

Imagine my surprise when Susan from Therapedic wrote me back almost immediately. We ended up talking on the phone. By the Way Susan has a bad ass east coast accent, and I think one of my next characters needs to emulate it. I felt like I had made a friend from the back and forth emails, and she was awesome.
Susan was amazing. She not only sent me a replacement blanket I also received another pocket blanket and a pair of slippers that won’t be on the market until March.
Therapedic went above and beyond what I had expected. I’m actually sitting her under my new blanket while I type this. I have worked customer service for many years before I started massage therapy and I understand how hard it is to hear people complain all day.
I love my new blankets and I haven’t taken my slippers off since I opened them.
There are good companies out there. Companies who hire people who have bad ass accents that are willing to help.
Thank you Therapedic….

One of my favorite posts was stories that happened while I was in my massage room. I haven’t posted Tales from the Table is awhile. I’m sure most of you have figured out by now that I have a talent for sticking my foot in my mouth. In fact i do it so often I have contemplated on many occasions if i should stick my feet in chocolate before leaving the house.

I have had two encounters lately where I wished my little tootsies were bathed in chocolate because I shoved them down my throat without any foreplay.

#1 Fruitcake oops

Normally when I walk into the room while I am adjusting the sheet and making sure everything is ready for the massage I will ask the patient if there is anything new I need to know about. This is the time they will tell me about any aches or pains they would like me to work on. Sometimes I will get some inappropriate responses. This was not one of those times.
I was massaging a patient who I have been seeing for many years now. The first time I massaged him I thought he was gay. I was super excited because I figured we would become the best of friends, and he maybe he would give me some fashion advice. Sadly he wasn’t gay but just a really amazing dresser. He is actually married with five kids. (Someday my gay prince will come and rescue me from Batman t-shirts and jeans)
Usually he will tell me everything hurts and to just fix him before going quiet. It sucks so much when a patient is quiet. I usually use the time to fix plot holes in my books. This particular time (right after Christmas) he told me that he ate way too much fruitcake. So much fruitcake he felt his muscles were full of the dessert.
Anyways… at the end of the massage as I was walking out of the room I turned to him and said, “I think I got all the fruitcake out of you.”
Our eyes locked in shock and I slithered away to wash the lotion and fruitcake embarrassment off my forearms.

#2 Starbucks and handjobs

If you have seen the movie Idiocracy the title will be hilarious. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it. I will warn you and say it is terrifying because it is something that could happen very easily.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387808/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Anyways… I was once again in my dark little room with a naked man face down. This patient is also a long time patient of mine. He is a tad bit of a perv but I love him anyway. I try not to say things that he can use against me. I’m going to claim tiredness and allergies to the slip I made a couple of weeks ago.
When I walked in he was in position face down ready for my hands to do their magic, but I had yet to touch him.
Patient…I already feel the tension going away.
Me…(Smartass remark ready for fire) Well then you lay here for an hour and I’m going to go get a Starbucks.
Patient…No wait I still need you.
I start the massage and the conversations stops for a minute or two.
Patient…would it be better if I brought you a Starbucks?
Me.. No because then I would want to drink it and I would end up massaging you with one hand (As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to grab them back. I had just given him ammunition and the massage was only five minutes in)
Patient… Well I don’t see a problem with that. Hell I will bring you three so you can massage me with one hand for the full hour.
Me…I don’t think you would be able to last the full hour. Just bring me a tall.

We both ended up bursting into laughter, because hell sometimes things are too funny not to laugh.

If you need some more cringe worthy moments please feel free to click the link below to read some of my other Tales from the Table.

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/06/23/tales-for-the-table/

In October I took my mom to see my favorite band Halestorm. I decided I was going to throw a signed copy of Breaking Faith up onstage. This of course happened when I fangirled the fuck out of her in June. Here is that story
https://itsjoysworld.net/2015/06/15/i-hugged-lzzy-hale/
I made my mom stand in front of the sign with the book. Don’t mind her hand she fell at a waterpark because they didn’t properly mark a dip. She is slowly getting some use out of it.

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My mom is my biggest fan. She thinks I can do no wrong. That being said she made sure to tell everyone what I was planning to do. That woman is a phenomenal saleswoman. My kindle sales were up just from the people she was talking to. She had people pulling up there Kindle app on their phone and downloading Breaking Faith.
After standing in line for a couple hours we were finally let in. As we were herded inside the Rainbowroom in Fresno my anxiety skyrocketed. My brain started yelling at me that throwing my book onstage was the worst idea I had ever had (that’s saying something)
I started imagining throwing my book and having it land on the ground never making it to the stage. So it could be swept away with the discarded tickets and empty cups at the end of the night. Or worse making the stage and knocking Lzzy or Joe out. Or worser (I know) hitting the stage and causing a fire.
Ugh.. These thoughts were paralyzing so as Lzzy Joe Josh and Arejay began their acoustic set I stood there holding this damn albatross. People around me were hitting me and whispering in my ear to throw the stupid thing.
The band ended their acoustic set and left the stage as they were getting plugged in. Everyone yelled at me saying I missed my chance.
My anxiety was in full swing. When this happens I shut down and want to just forget my idea. I also didn’t want to ruin my night. I was watching my favorite band play.
When they came back I tried to get into the concert but it is hard to throw your horns \m/\m/ when you are holding a book.
Lzzy launched into their song
I am the fire. I adore this song and the lyrics were just what I needed to push the voices in my head down.
I was still worried about not making it to the stage so while they were taking a break I tapped on a man next to me. He was super tall and he was there with his wife and kids. I figured he was cool and he could toss it over his kids heads without worry of hitting them.
He asked if I wanted him to wait until they came back to the stage. At first I said yes, but then I realized I didn’t want him to have to hold it and hinder his enjoyment so I told him to just toss it then.
He did.
It landed on the stage and slid.
Everyone around me cheered. It was insane like we had all accomplished something together.
Joe picked it up and I almost had a heartattack.

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He asked the guy who threw it if it was his book. Once again everyone around me started screaming and pointing at me. It was surreal. I’m not going to lie I felt like a rockstar.
Joe asked if I wrote it and signed it. I nodded my head with my mouth hanging open.
He said Thank you and put it on LZZY’S keyboard. Holy shit.
When she came out and moved it so she could play I freaked out. Breaking Faith stayed on her keyboard as she serenaded it with one of my favorite songs.

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I’m not sure what happened to it after that. I’m going to hope she has it somewhere and the pages are not being used as toilet paper for a transient but either way it was awesome.

As some of you know being a stand up comedian is one of my goals in life. I tried it a couple years ago for my birthday and had the time of my life. I have wanted to go back but I haven’t had the opportunity as of yet. Here is the link to that one time

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/07/27/it-was-my-birthday-and-i-will-embarrass-myself-if-i-want-to/

Weeks ago JM and I found ourselves kidless. When this rare occurrence happens we end up at The Comedy Store on Sunset.
Close to the end of the night Sunset Strip Jesus came in. Glided in? Walked on a really long sandbar? ( I didn’t have the balls to do that joke in front of him)
Anyways…Don Barris was on stage closing us out (the Sam Kinison set) when good ole Jesus struts in. People stopped listening to Don to Snapchat Jesus. Don stopped his set to bring him up onstage to get pictures. Since it was close to Christmas Don asked Jesus what he got for his birthday? His answer was candles. Which was hilarious.
It’s now 2:30 in the morning. On the way out of The Comedy Store I asked Jesus if I could get a picture. This man is huge. Case in point look at my shoulder and my hand. They look miniature.

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Sunset Strip Jesus asked if we come to The Comedy Store often. JM explained every chance we get because I want to pursue comedy. This giant turns to me and says, “let’s here it.”
So this is how I end up at 2:30 in the morning on the sidewalk in front of The Comedy Store on Sunset Strip doing a bit for a man dressed as Jesus.
I was stupid nervous. I tell him the first thing he needs to know about me is I’m a massage therapist. So to make things even more awkward he holds out his gargantuan hand. And what do I do? I start massaging it while I go into my happy ending set. At some point he grabs my hand and I watch as it becomes encompassed in his large hands. This is when I realize I’m getting a handjob by a man dressed as Jesus while talking about jerking someone off. According to JM he knew when this thought went through my head because I stuttered and my ears turned bright red.
Anyways I finished my bit and was told I was funny and should try the open mics. He did say I went too fast, but fuck (one T not two) I was nervous.
I told him I want to do the comedy university, but $470 is not available to me right now. Maybe I should start a kickstarter. Kidding.
So there you go. My Jesus Hand job story.

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So Thursday I was interviewed by Robert Moore for the International Writers Association Podcast.
This is the link to the interview.

http://iwaaudio.podomatic.com/entry/2016-01-24T20_49_18-08_00
I come on about into the podcast.
26 minute mark
I don’t want to listen to it. I have a deep hatred for the sound of my voice. I feel I sound like a 12 year old on crack. I also said amazing, awesome, and great way too many times. I kept telling myself to stop saying those words in my head only to blurt one of them out seconds later. I was laughing in my head every time I let one of those words slip.
Also I tried to mention as many people as I could but I know I missed so many. It was not done intentionally, and I’m sorry. In fact I don’t really remember what I said.
So here you go if you want to have a laugh at my expense. Or you can make it a drinking game. Take a shot when I say awesome amazing or great.