Pizzazzie’s First Post

26 Nov

Woohoo.  I guess this should be the proverbial “get to know me” post.  Buckle your seatbelts.

I am one quirky woman.  Let’s just get that out of the way.  Now I can get on to the good stuff.  My mother is a beautiful Oriental (it sounds more exotic to say oriental).  My poppa is a good, hardworking man from the country and I got the best of both of them passed down into my oversized jeans.  Imagine if Angelina Jolie, Lucy Liu, Dolly Parton and maybe a dash of Jack Black were all mixed into one.  That one would be me fortunately or unfortunately, depending on which side of my mood you’re on and if it’s personally distasteful to imagine Jack Black as a woman.

I grew up watching my mother knit, crochet, sew, make owls out of pinecones, bookmarks from plastic canvas, eggs from fabric scraps and styrofoam, something to whup my heinie from a totally clean and otherwise empty livingroom…  I should be writing a book on the things she can do. 

My dad had a camera that I was fascinated with.  It was back in the 35mm days and he carried it throughout Southeast Asia during his Army years.  I looked at his slides for hours waiting for the day that photographic touch would pass down to me.  I would feel the weight of the camera in my hands, the solidness of it, the cold metal parts (back before everything was made of cheap plastic).  I even thought the sound of the click was cool.

My poppa was also mechanically inclined.  He made a bunk bed in my room when I was a kid.  It was solid wood with large steel bolts.  If a tornado ever tore through the house the bed would still be standing.  The top bunk was a wood platform with no mattress.  It was the deck of my pirate ship, my secret reading place or where I’d sit and think up my adventures with the A-Team. 

Poppa also taught me how to be mechanically inclined.  By the time I was 12-years-old I could change a tire, change oil, replace gaskets, whatever it took to make me independent.  He also showed me how to work on electricity but none of that absorbed because I have this, I don’t know, crazy fear of getting electrocuted.  It didn’t take too many tongue on a 9-volt dares to convince me that electricity was not something I wanted to toy with.

You may wonder how I came to the name Pizzazzie.  It’s pronounced pizzazz-eee, not pizza zazzie.  Pizza gives me heartburn except the home-made stuff my husband makes, but that’s a whole other post.  It wold take at least 1 gig of server space to describe how good it is and totally worth any gastric discomfort that might follow (the post or the pizza).

Anyway, I was going through a rough patch in my life.  I was all sad and I kind of dropped my basket as the Ya Ya would say.  My mom and I were talking one day and I said “I think I just need to re-invent myself with a new name and everything.”  When she asked me what I’d change my name to I said “It would be one name or one word like Pow or Pizzazz and anytime anyone said my name they would have to throw their hands out to the sides like jazz hands and say it loud like PIZZAZZ!!  Kind of like something you would see on Glee but you know, cool. 

However, instead of re-inventing myself I actually stopped fighting and trying to be something I wasn’t and became what I was all along.  The Jack Black, Dolly Parton, Lucy Liu, Angelina Jolie hybrid with knitting needles and flat feet.  I guess that’s the struggle of life, which I guess means I can die now.  Or maybe there’s more struggle to come and that’s why I’m still here…  UGH!  Anyway, I’m not kicking off before I set up my Etsy shop.  Pizzazz was already taken so that’s how I ended up with Pizzazzie, which is kinda cute right?!  Anyway, go see my ONE item on Etsy but keep checking back because I have tons more stuff to put up.  I just took all day to fill out my bio and now I have to go vacuum or sweep or something. 

So, welcome and go get some Pizzazzie in your life!

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