Fidget Spinner demonstration

I got a new fidget toy to demo!

Let’s wrap this post up!

For more up-to-date insanity follow me on twitter @JoyPearson

If you like smelly bath bombs, pretty greeting cards, or just awesomeness feel free to visit my shop!


This is all Jenny Lawson’s fault

So…. something amazingly unexpected happened…. and I’m still too emotional to write about it, so I’m just gonna go on the record and say “THIS IS ALL JENNY LAWSON’S FAULT!” And post the video of my reaction for you all to watch and understand.

Follow me on twitter @JoyPearson for more emotional shenanigans 


I graduated high school at 18, full of scholarships and excitement for the next part of my life. I went to the University of Puget Sound and graduated in 2014 with a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts degree in theater. I took several psychology courses post-grad, leading me to my current job working for a school district co-running the extended day program at an Elementary school. I have many hobbies that include any form of art, playing my ukulele, writing about mental health on my blog, walking through the Juanita Wetlands while counting bird calls, collecting comics, and watching/rewatching movies. I have a wonderful apartment that has my touch on every square foot, I keep beautiful plants named Herman and Leonard on my window sill next to my stack of books I plan to read. All this to say, #ThxBirthControl for allowing me to decide when and where I am prepared to start a family. Please donate to Planned Parenthood, who deserve a huge shoutout for providing birth control to women for decades.

Wandering Fake Stars


I can’t be myself when I travel. It’s a matter of fact. I don’t know how to get comfortable in a strange foreign place the way I do when I am home in my personal domain where I know everything inside out and out. I become self-conscious of everything unknown to me, which is just about everything depending on the location of travel.

I’m fortunate this week. Wednesday I traveled out to Newbury Port for the second time; an area my boyfriend is from that I’m somewhat familiar with but more comfortable being in. This time I feel more confident and comfortable in my surroundings, though only by a few inches.

Tonight I drank a bit more wine than normal, using the drink to dull my nerves and anxiety as my guy’s siblings arrived to stay for a few days. It’s not that they’re awful people, it’s that I myself feel I’m out of place on the far outer circle of here. Not uncommon given my circumstances, but anxiety inducing none-the-less.

After excusing myself upstairs for the evening, I found myself in my boyfriend’s childhood bedroom for one of the rare long moments alone I’ve had recently. His room is beautiful; the ceiling is painted in a whimsical space design, using blue and cerulean colors for the background and a dazzling combonation of browns, oranges, and yellows to create the planets of our solar system. It’s dazzling to stare up at in the middle of the day.

It was night when I came up into the room, and no one was around. After changing into my pajamas, I decided to explore the loft. That’s right, my guy’s bedroom has a ladder than leads up to a loft. I remember when I first saw the loft over a year ago during a Skype session during the early days of our dating, when we hadn’t declared ourselves as a serious couple or even knowing we were in the middle of falling in love. I remember the video when I saw his room and I went, “Oh my god WHAT IS THAT?” When I saw the hand railing ascended 10 feet above the bedroom floor. “That’s the loft,” Alex answered casually, but I was completely fascinated. Only in princess stories and tales of medieval castle designs had I heard of ‘lofts’ within rooms, I’d never seen one for myself. I vaguely explored it upon my first visit to his home last summer, but only tonight did I learn how to appreciate it.

All alone in my undergarments (and slightly drunk), I scaled the ladder and crawled tentatively onto the loft. It’s softly carpeted, a few books comfortably lined up against the wall my boyfriend had stored there for time being. There’s a small door, big enough to crawl through that leads into his brother’s bedroom, who has another door that lead’s into his sister’s room, like a series of passages connecting rooms (much like the ones I’d always read in adventure books and died to see in real life).

Hearing no one approaching, I stood up to my full height, surprised to find that I couldn’t head-butt the ceiling with my 5 foot 9 1/2 inch height. I took a step and gripped the handrail and looked down upon the floor plan for the bedroom, which was fairly standard (Bed, desk, bookcase, couple of chairs), and then I looked up.

I recognize that the ceiling of this room is not an accurate representation of the galaxy, but I couldn’t help but be mystified as I slowly reached up and let my finger tips graze the celestial ceiling above me. It was beautiful. I’m about 80% certain it was the alcohol warping my mind, but I felt like I was high enough to explore the galaxy. I imagine this comes from my utter obsession with Guardians of the Galaxy and all other space epics, but I smiled like a true wanderer while I stood on that loft looking out at the painted stars.

I felt a bit like myself when I was up there. A wanderer full of curiosity and wonder as I explore unknown places on my own for the first time with the aid of others. It gave me a sigh of relief to know that that piece of myself remains untouched by the anxieties of life. I can only wish now that I could see the ceiling, the stars and planets, at night as I drift off to sleep. Though I know that if I could, I’d never want to close my eyes again. Which would turn into a tragedy of it’s own.

It’s hard to retain or find yourself when you’re displaced from your natural environment. Without my family near me, I feel exposed and vulnerable to the world in ways many would not understand. But if I can find moments of wonder in my searching and wandering, I find myself feeling stronger and more steady within myself, no matter where I am in that moment.

Companions of Mind Journeys

You can’t make someone be there for you when you’re feeling bad, sad, or anxious. You just can’t. Sure, you can manipulate a person into being scared when you purposefully give cues that you’re feeling off for the day; but you cannot make someone genuinely care or be there for you when you need them. Not unless you put in the effort to do the same for them.

That doesn’t mean they’ll ‘always’ be there for you. They may be busy or have something else to lend their attention to, because not everyone centers their attention around you. Not everyone spends their time trying to figure out what you’re feeling and how best to treat or take care of you when you struggle. It’s a lovely idea, but not realisic.

Ultimately? You have to be there for you. Boom. Simple enough. Except it’s not simple enough. Being there for yourself and comforting your problems or frustrations is incredibly frustrating and heart aching to do on your own. But you learn about yourself more.

I’m not suggesting that everyone should go about figuring everything out on their own. No no no no no. If you can find a friend or family member who you trust who can watch out for you and take care of you when you can’t, keep them in your life as long as possible. What I’m saying is that when you’re in those moments of darkness when the world seems cold and lonely and no one wants to deal with you, don’t expect someone to show up and sweep you out of the darkness and straight into the light. That’s not how life works.

For one thing, most of the time no one shows up at all to take care, not unless you leave specific note with obvious instructions to come after you. No, you have to allow yourself to let people in and talk to them about what is happening within your mind.

For another thing, getting shuttled from darkness straight into the light is blinding. It leaves some paralyzed and stuck in confused panic, as they do not know how to handle the sensory overload the light brings onto our crazy world. It’s too much to handle in one fell swoop.

Find someone who will take slow, easy steps with you towards the light. And if there is no one to go with you, take your time to inch forward towards it; let yourself be drawn to it and experience the struggles that come with transitioning from dark to light.

You cannot force people to along on these journeys with you, and begging and guilting them will only make the matter worse over time. If you can’t find a willing partner to take you along on your rough journey; fact of the matter is, you’re going to have to proceed on your own and figure out the obstacles by yourself without a companion to advise.

Everyone goes on the journey differently. I’ve been on it most of my life alone, I’ve tried to get people to come along with me. With great shame, I admit I tried to force and drag people along the journey with me. I think it was because I was so scared of being alone, not that it is any excuse for the way I treated those I manipulated and lied to.

If I’ve learned anything on this journey, it’s that it is one that can only be made when everyone is a willing companion to the leader of the journey. And if they are not willing, than the leader must brave it alone and brace themselves for whatever truths they may find.

That’s my thought anyway.

Let love win

I’d like to post the goofy piece I had written for today, but given recent news of the latest shootings (RIP Alton Sterling and Philando Castile) I don’t feel right posting it.

It would be so easy to give up, to go live under a rock in the middle of the woods where I don’t have to hear about the awful events of the planet I’m stuck living on. It would be so easy…. But it wouldn’t be right.

More than ever, we need people with hearts full of love and acceptance. We need those who will brave the storms that come upon us so suddenly, but still find light in those dark times. Those of us who aren’t so terrified of diversity and difference, we need to be the educators to those strangled by irrational fear and hatred.

I can’t tell anyone how to live their lives, or how to think/feel about guns; but I can tell you that time and time again, Love has proven itself the victor in times of strife. So let us all love, be loved, and show others the wondrous depth in which we can love.

Text-shaming my elders

Facebook Conversation I had today with my friend, Doc.
Doc: I went shopping for a fourth of July bbq I’m throwing tonight.
Me: Nice! Kathryn is coming over and Alex is barbecuing steaks.
Doc: kewl. A manly tradition*
Me: I don’t think ‘kewl’ is necessarily unmanly, just incredibly preteen
Me: Let’s be honest here, preteens learning how to text and IM are the only ones using ‘kewl’ when it is the EXACT SAME AMOUNT OF LETTERS as ‘cool’
Doc: ok fine, text-shamer
Me: I text-shame shame my mother too, you’re not alone 😊
Doc: I’m glad you’re so proud of yourself. For an encore, you can find an old man and kick him down a flight of stairs. 🙂
Me: Nah, I’m just going to find a small geriatric and punt them off the balcony 😊
Doc: I’d pay money to see that
*I’d like it noted that I was not wearing my glasses and misread this as “manly fashion” and thought he was gendering the word “kewl”, hence my spontaneous diatribe. But I stand by what I said, plus I had a cat in my lap at the time; and we all know when one has a cat in their lap, they must remain there until the cat let’s them go less they be murdered. So really my laziness saved my life and ergo this blog! You’re welcome planet!