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Angry Macey 99¢ PreOrder

Angry Macey by Jennifer Friess

I am so happy to announce that Angry Macey is NOW AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER in ebook on Amazon.com. And even better, for a limited time she is only 99¢! So you should definitely head on over and click that buy button. Support your local starving author 😀

Paperback copies will be available on Tuesday, October 24, 2017, the official release date.

People who subscribe to my newsletter were the first to know this info. Want to sign up? Click here: http://eepurl.com/7YhHr

Please help me celebrate this fantastic novel. Read on to find out what Angry Macey is all about.

ANGRY MACEY

Everyone feels like they are guided at some point in their lives. But what if you were guided to do something terrible? What if you were too blinded by anger to even care about the carnage you were about to inflict?

Meet Macey.

Mid-life crisis. Mental breakdown. Payback. Revenge.

I was the woman who did everything right. I had always followed my head rather than my heart. And where had it gotten me? Unemployed, depressed, and soon-to-be homeless. I couldn’t help but try to find the source of where it had all gone wrong. With my twentieth high school reunion coming up, it wasn’t hard to imagine the time period of my life that my thoughts returned to. I want them to pay. There are only two people who could possibly stop me, and one of them died yesterday. The other will probably not even remember my name…

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Painted Rock Neighborhood

In case you didn’t get the memo (or you never look at your surroundings), we are presently smack-dab in the middle of a painted rock craze. (At least in my  neighborhood we are.)

My son and I didn’t go looking for them. We just happened upon them, a delightful surprise. Actually, when we go searching on purpose we usually cannot find any.

My son found a couple. I hashtagged them and posted them on Facebook, as the rocks instructed. Then I discovered there was an actual fb group for our area. I resisted joining it. But once I made a few rocks, I was really curious if anyone had found them. So I gave in and joined the group.

Then my stress level instantly went through the ceiling. I felt pressure to find rocks. To hide rocks. To make rocks to hide. People were in the group actually complaining because they had made and hidden rocks, but no one had posted them to fb  yet.

DO THEY REALIZE HOW INSANE THEY SOUND?!

1. These are in PUBLIC PLACES. That means anyone can take them. Raccoons could take them.
2. Not everyone has a computer or smart phone.
3. Not everyone uses Facebook.
4. Not everyone knows about this activity.
5. People CAN KEEP THEM. This is an unofficial community game. No one is required to play by your arbitrary rules. The cops are not going to track down the “theft” of a painted rock.

I couldn’t fall asleep that night. This is supposed to be a fun community interaction. But instead I could only feel all the emotions of the people who were mad that they didn’t find any rocks, the ones who hid them and felt they were not being found, and the groundskeeper at a public park who mowed over some. And there are the people who are already freaking out about what to do when winter arrives and it could possibly–God-forbid–snow.

I have not left the group yet, but I probably will very soon. There are so many people doing this now. My newsfeed is filled with rocks. The chances of me actually seeing one of the three rocks I have hidden to date would be like finding a painted rock at bottom of a river. It is fun to paint them once in a while, and to find one when we are out and about already, but I don’t have extra time to dedicate to this hobby.

Or the money. Apparently if the designs are to stand up for any length of time in the harsh elements, they need to be sealed. People keep saying Mod Podge is good for that. I have never used it. My sister-in-law said she saw some at the dollar store, but with this craze it was long gone by the time I got there. It is $3 at my local Meijer store. I already have a large collection of rocks painted and ready to go. Just counting down the days until payday so I can buy some Mod Podge.

The rocks of my son & I, almost ready to be released into the world

Here is a fun fact: If you say “Modge Podge” (because that is what I thought it was called until 10 seconds ago when I Googled it) 10 times in a row really fast in a semi-robotic voice, it will deeply annoy everyone in your house. (Except for the elderly dog who is deaf.)

Go ahead, try it! You can thank me later 😉

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

When Spam Repeats on You

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No, not that kind of Spam. Although, that also tends to cause stomach upset on occasion.

Everyone thinks technology is so great.

Except when it isn’t.

I had a job at the end of 2014. It turned out the job was not a good fit (in every conceivable way) for me, but I tried to stick it out for a short while. During that time, I got an email to go to a website and look at documents regarding benefits. Benefits I wasn’t going to enroll in, but since I got a reminder in my personal email about every third day, I wanted to take care of it. But my password didn’t work. I tried to contact someone about it. They reset it. It still didn’t work. The emails, with a due date of 8/4/14, wouldn’t stop coming. Then I left that position to become a famous author (I am still working on the famous part).

I thought, “Well, at least those emails will stop coming.”

I was wrong.

These tasks were due in 2014. It is now 2017!!!

These tasks were due in 2014. It is now 2017!!!

Censored not to protect them, but to protect ME from getting sued by them.

They still come, every three days, over two years after I left that job. They still have a due date of 8/4/14. It is an international Fortune 500 company. You would think that they would purge that stuff every now and then. It makes them look very bad.

There is no way to opt out or stop the emails from coming, since I have no way to log into the site they come from. I am no longer an employee, so I wouldn’t have access to any inside way to stop it. And that didn’t work even when I was still an employee. So, I set them to go to my spam.

Which is probably bad for that company, which happens to be in retail, when they want to send advertising to actual customers, and I have marked them as spam. But I had to.

But it doesn’t stop there. When I periodically check my spam, there they are, all sitting there, mocking me. They remind me of a very unhappy, unhealthy, and chaotic time in my life that I would rather never think of ever again.

And they force me to think of it weekly, putting me back into that horrible state of mind, even if just for a few seconds. I should sue their asses for mental anguish. I have PTSD from that position. I wanted a clean break, and it was in every way EXCEPT FOR THE EMAILS!!!

It bothers me so much to still receive them that I am writing a whole damn blog post about it! Using up my personal space just to rant about their stupidity!

Interested in spending time in my headspace during that time? Check out this flashback post:

iNsTaBiLiTy: a poem

Eight days after that post, I put in my two weeks notice. And I really only gave them eight and a half more days; I could not even make it to a full ten.

troll-gurl-teaser-2

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

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The Worry Box

So, I found this app which has meditations that you can download. I have only tried two, one listen each, because I give up easily.

The second one I listened to was called “The Worry Box” by Monica A. Frank. It was all about visualizing a box to put your worries in. Your box could look like whatever you wanted. It should have a lock to keep the worries from escaping. She sl-ow-ly talked about how you would layer things in your box. She talked about different kinds of worries and what ones should go on the bottom and what ones should go on the top. I can’t remember the terminology, but it seemed like one of them were like “unreasonable worries” which were supposed to differ from worries you could action.

Um, if I knew the difference, I wouldn’t be downloading mental health apps, lady.

So, bear in mind, I was listening to this audio as I picked up dog poop in my back yard (luckily, from my own dog). And my mind was like, “Squirrel!

“I should go to Hobby Lobby (I recognize that they aren’t always the most politically correct store, but they have the best craft supplies in town). I could pick out a wooden box. I could paint it up fancy. I could find a tiny little lock to put on it. I could put the key on my keychain as a reminder that the worries are locked way and I am safe from them during the day. I should go now—

“But it is Sunday, and they are closed 😦 ”

After that I zoned out and quit listening to the audio and kept envisioning the awesome box I would make. I liked the idea so much that I started writing down my worries on little slips of paper and trapping them in a box that night. I just had to use a cigar box for a substitute until I could get something better.

I had to work the first part of Monday, and I had promised my mother that I would take her shopping after that. So, I made it to Hobby Lobby and got my things picked out and was waiting in line at closing time.

It almost looks like an old radio in this picture.

It almost looks like an old radio in this picture.

The box I liked did not have a way to put a lock on it and they didn’t sell them there anyway. But the closure fits pretty snugly, so I think those evil suckers will have a problem if they try to pop out of there. My son, the soon-to-be kindergartner, was of course asking me questions. He was so intrigued by the idea (as much as a five year old can be) that he picked out his own box to decorate. He picked out some scrapbooking letters and told me he wanted to use them to put the words “not today” on his box. I thought it was an excellent idea! Of course, he changed his mind by the time he got home, but I liked the idea so much that I used it for myself. I thought it was a very deep observation for a child. Or maybe it is just because it was my child.

Cares, cares away. Never to return.

Cares, cares away. Never to return.

I wanted to paint the box so that just by looking at it, you would not be able to tell that it was made of wood. I mostly succeeded, except I need  to buy some new paint before I can do the bottom. (I wondered why my craft paint was clumpy—some dates back to 1999!) I painted the inside black, to keep those worries calm and quiet. The top & front I painted black and brown, with some gold & silver accents. I made up my own saying for the lid, then translated it into Latin using the Google translator, because the words in Latin just seemed like they would hold more power, sort of reminding me of spells like in the 90s movie The Craft. And if you are a Latin scholar and it doesn’t make sense, don’t write to me. I didn’t use Google for a permanent tattoo, only for a wooden box I keep in my bedroom closet that no one else but me will see. The sides I painted with a mix of brown with red, blue, and purple, respectively, because I could not resist adding some color.

My son's box. He doesn't put his worries in it. He just wanted to paint it.

My son’s box. He doesn’t put his worries in it. He just wanted to paint it.

I am hoping the worry box and the love bubble will be a winning combination. If nothing else, I got to enjoy arts & crafts with my son. Soon he will be all crabby from being at school all day and not interested.

Oh, I almost forgot to show you these cool earrings I made. Sorry, I don’t have a picture where they are not attached to my head.

So retro!

So retro!

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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The Love Bubble

I think I had an epiphany Thursday morning on my way to work.

LOVE BUBBLE-Soap

Now, for awhile I have tried positive thinking, which is a continuous struggle with every thought that runs through my head, usually resulting in a weekend breakdown from all the tension that feels like it has built up within my brain and heart and body. Usually, I just give up and return to my default hopelessness, because it is comfortable like a worn pair of jeans, but uncomfortable in that way that your worn jeans are too worn and have a hole in the butt that gives you a draft and make you feel like you are on display for the world.

You know, like that.

Books and apps just haven’t seem to have been working for me. But this morning I came up with a visualization.

Not like a beach sunset or cool woods kind of visualization.

I am so tired of feeling like everyone is constantly judging me. I worry what my coworkers think, my neighbors, other drivers. I worry if I am hurting their feelings or making them mad or just generally repulsing them with my ugliosity. I wished with all my might that I had a way to block that (perceived) judgement out.

So, I came up with the love bubble.

I know, it sounds like some kind of sex toy.

It is a pulsating lavender/pink transparent bubble I imagine around my body. (If it was not transparent, then I would constantly be bumping into things, more than I already do now.) It has a selective membrane to block out all the things I would normally worry about. If they can’t get into my bubble, then I am not required to think about them! But I didn’t want to be closed off from the world, so I decided that love could reach me, and my love can reach people, animals, things on the outside, if they need it and are receptive. I have only been using this for like two hours as I am writing this, but so far I kind of like it. I have trouble remembering words and mantras. A picture sticks with me longer. I must be a visual person. And after all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

So, here is my crude illustration:

Here I am, inside my bubble!

Here I am, inside my bubble!

I picture my love bubble being similar to Bella’s shield from Breaking Dawn-Part 2, but it is resides about the same distance away from me as my personal space. It is really the same emotional concept my green-haired friend came up with many years ago, except hers involved a hoodie. On days she didn’t feel like talking to people, she would wear a hooded sweatshirt, putting up the hood and wrapping her arms around herself, to protect herself from the outside world, just like a cocoon would.

Just because we grow up and have jobs doesn’t mean we actually want to crawl out of our blanket forts or leave our security blankets at home and interact with other humans.

Go ahead, try the bubble. But you can’t share mine; get your own.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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