I Got Cheated Out of My Nervous Breakdown

I’m so happy to tell you that I have a humor piece about my hideous August up at The Syndrome Mag today!

You can read it here: I Got Cheated Out of My Nervous Breakdown

It’s funny ’cause it’s true!

I am also happy to show you the actual pillowcase…

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…in our actual spare room…

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Is it getting hot in here, or is it just an abundance of Nicolas Cage merchandise?

YOU DECIDE.

Thanks for hanging out with me here and being all awesome and stuff!  You all are the best!  🙂

Licehead Spa Day

Now this a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside-down…

Okay, that’s actually the Fresh Prince of Bel Air’s story.  I’ve been foiled again!

Do you know what I wouldn’t give to be able to say that just one time in my life for real?  Like, pound my fist on the desk in my underground lair and shout, “I’ve been foiled again!” with possum-henchmen scattering from the room?

Someone should really offer some kind of formal villain training courses (besides the current Yale and Harvard business programs).  I would absolutely sign up for that.  One time I did get to yell, “Because they don’t get to win – THAT’S why!” in the conference room at work, and it may have been my greatest moment in life.

So!  I had lice as a kid.  More than once.  As the judge tells Nicolas Cage in Raising Arizona, “A ree-peat ohhh-fender.”

This was mostly because I was a filthy little heathen, as were my friends, classmates, pets, and both of my Cabbage Patch Kids if we’re being honest, here.

I wrote a li’l flash humor piece about it and it’s on Cosmonauts Avenue this month.  I know!  Do they have the best name or what?  You can read it here:  Licehead Spa Day.

And then spend the rest of the day not scratching at your head.  It’s not like you have lice or anything.  Unless you do…

Shout out to Finesse Shampoo.  You were the wind beneath my lice wings.  VO5, on the other hand, can 100% go sit and spin.

Speaking of hair…thanks, as always, for reading and commenting and letting me watch your hair flowing slowly in the breeze.

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Now try saying “flowing slowly” ten times fast.

I Can’t Even Come Up With a Pun at The Moment

In what can only be described as me having to leave my desk at a brisk pace to go sob in private, I found out this morning that I’ve had a second piece nominated for 2019 Best of The Net.  This one is for my essay Proof of Deliverance that was published this past March by The New Southern Fugitives.

I loved writing this piece so much, but I wasn’t sure that anyone would give a damn about it.  You could have knocked me over with a feather when The New Southern Fugitives originally accepted it.  I remember I was walking down the hallway at work on my way to lunch when I got the acceptance email.  I believe my exact words were, “No shit?  Really?”

It was only my third piece ever published – and they actually paid me for it!  (Getting paid in this business is like finding a unicorn.)

When I got the first nomination a couple months back on my Greg Brady piece, I cried like an infant.  Luckily, it was 5am and I was on my couch at home when I got the news.  I gave it a gooood ugly-cry with no makeup and no witnesses.  The ideal ugly-cry.

I found out about this second one after I was already at work, full face of makeup on, and a room full of witnesses who I couldn’t tell about it.  (Nobody at work knows that I write.)  Even after spending ten minutes cleaning my face up in the ladies room mirror, I still currently look like this.

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And I’m okay with that.  I told my coworkers it’s allergies.

I have never cried at receiving a rejection.  I receive rejections every day.  Hell, I got two just yesterday and I’ll probably get more today.  My general reaction is, “Glad I took the shot.  Oh well.  Keep on truckin.”

I cry at the good news.  Because I never, ever, ever thought I’d be here.

Thank you for hanging out here with me, thank you to The New Southern Fugitives for giving this dirtbag a chance, and thank you to anyone who believes in me even when I don’t.  😊