It’s finally here! It’s out and about on Kindle! Get it now for $9.99! Liz is back with her follow up to “Should I Have Told You That?: A Memoir” with more stories of shenanigans filled with heart involving family and friends. There are more stories of crazy things that happened as a kid, a teenager and a confused, but head strong twenty-something. Even in her thirties you identify with her experiences as an adult through the pages of this book. No matter what situation you are in, or well Liz is in, anxiety is always around and that is what makes this book so hilarious and relatable.
Hey Fellas and Ladies… it’s the last day and I’m more than halfway to my personal goal! Thanks to everyone who has downloaded so far!!!! Please don’t forget to review!
IT’S FINALLY HERE! I’m so nervous and excited! t’s 6:45am and I’m hoping that I get a lot of downloads today of my book. So far I have 3 and it was just released 3 hours ago! Get it for free ASAP! “Should I Have Told You That?” on Amazon Download my book it’s FREE TODAY ON
#KINDLE It’s 6:45am! Listen to me! Should I Have Told You That?
When I was twenty-seven I was in an elaborate wedding where the maid of honor decided to have a lingerie and bridal shower/brunch for the bridal party the morning of the wedding I was in… at 9am. Me, and two male friends were the ONLY single people attending the wedding. We were out until 3:30am. This takes place the next morning when I was still drunk, then hungover. Enjoy (and download my book Saturday or Sunday while it’s free.)
(Hair of the Dog… Mimosa #2)
‘”It was 9:15 am when I finally made it to Jo’s lingerie shower in a bland, eggshell colored room probably used for group events. I found a basic conference style room chair, metal with thin wool over a cushion, and pulled myself into the circle, gift bag in hand. Twenty sets of eyes, over the age of fifty-two were staring at me, the only single girl, that smelled of stale cigarettes from the night before, and vodka still coming out from her pores. ‘Who has a lingerie shower, the day of the wedding at nine am?’ is still my question eleven years later. As the group sent around boxes, and gift bags of silver, and white, I joined in on the ooo’s and ahh’s of basic bras, thongs, and the occasional teddy that women of that era found “racy”. Following my ill prepared arrival, we were migrating to another location for a “brunch” at a nearby spot with French finger foods, mimosas, and Jo’s gifts to her bridesmaids… cubic zirconia matching earrings and a necklace.
So, there I was, twenty-six-year old, painfully thin ninety-eight pounds, with platinum blonde hair walking around a cobblestoned gardened area with rod iron chairs that twisted and the back for form a heart shape to cradle the back of whoever sat on it, with shabby chic rod iron tables painted white. Holding a mimosa, and posing for official bridal photos, all I really longed to do was to be around people that seemed real, and my age… I seriously do not know how I was there, awake, and still exceptionally pleasant, other than that I was still young enough to be able to drink a lot and wake up without a headache. Don’t get me wrong, I was extremely tired, and sat as much as possible, in those rod iron chairs that seemed like the most uncomfortable chairs, only beating out metal foldout chairs usually found in rec rooms, or elementary school gyms reserved for PTA meetings.
After the reserved amount of time had passed, I shared a ride with someone, and then quickly darted back to my room where I left not only a bed, but a twenty-five-year-old man who would probably be curious of why I was not there, and I no note or text was left for him, just clothes trailing from the bathroom into the main room. I walked into the still dark hotel room, with the curtains still closed, but some rays of sunlight were peeking through two, one-inch slits showing enough light for me to see when I walked in. I heard sheets moving, and then I looked down and turned towards me was Jacob. I sat on the side of the bed, thankful for something soft to sit on, while he looked up at me trying to piece together the night before, and why I was sitting there now in a dress, with a look, and vibe of defeat, and it wasn’t even noon yet. His dark brown hair was ruffled, overnight scruff was shadowing his face, and his blue eyes were slowly widening. Wearing a white tee shirt, and rubbing his face, in a soft voice, a combination of confusion and worry, he asked me where I went. It was a sweet moment, that I still laugh about because it was one of the most genuine moments of my life. A point where your brain just says what it wants without all the planning of how to say something to be polite, just an honest reaction that you rarely get from anyone in life. Then in a hoarse voice he squinted at me since he did not have his contacts in his eyes, “Where have you been?”’