At Moojo, we believe moments of joy are meant to be shared — and we want to share your moments of joy right here on this blog! If you have an uplifting story or simply a fun little memory that you want us to tell, let us know by filling out the form and our blogger, Ashly, may share your moment of joy.
If you happen to visit us at our store, you can also submit your stories, poems, and doodles by dropping them in our box labeled "Share A Moment of JOY" and we may publish them anonymously here on our blog/Instagram page.
Anyone who has the slightest inclination of who I am, knows who my favorite musical artist (and future husband, although I have not yet informed him) is, so the moment I saw him tweet “ATX?”, I was determined to figure out the meaning of this inconclusive message. I cancelled all plans I had for the rest of the week and took off work for “personal development” because meeting my husband is essential for my growth. After failed attempts of contacting his entourage and DJ, I knew I had to take bolder steps towards fulfilling my dreams. Rumors began to swarm about a free concert, and I underestimated that the amount of homewreckers who envied the relationship I had with my future husband. I found myself pressed up against the back wall of dark room as the opening acts played, and when my artist emerged on stage, he immediately scanned the crowd for people to come on stage and dance. He flung his arms in my direction, and said “You!”. I froze—completely dumbfounded and overwhelmed as I felt people nudging me forward. After pushing through the crowd, I stepped on stage. I trembled and stumbled around lavishing in my dream come true, but I could not formulate one dance move, so instead, I just smiled and said “I do!”
This spring break, I unfortunately could not afford an elaborate vacation like the rest of my friends. I lived vicariously through snapchat and traveled to Cabo, Puerto Rico, Brazil and Jamaica as I nestled tightly in my bed. Each day, I would hear the pitter patter of my youngest sister’s feet as she eagerly stumbled near my room, and before she could reach for the doorknob, I would redirect her with a resounding “Don’t even think about it.” Towards the end of my break, in the middle of a mid afternoon napping indulgence, I shuffled my feet around, and instead of them wandering the bed as I expected, they were impeded by another set of feet—the same pitter pattering feet of my little sister. Groggy, annoyed and still jealous that I could only travel in 10 second Snapchat increments, I turned my head towards my sister, cracked open one eye, and before I could boom my signature phrase, she sheepishly silenced me with “Okay, I’m sorry. I just really wanted to spend time with you.” My spirits crushed immediately, and I felt an overwhelming pang of guilt. For the rest of the break, I put my social media travel on standby and took a vacation from life with my little sister as we spent the days in obnoxious laughter. Indeed, I did not have the ideal trip, but I realized I have the ideal little sister.
There is nothing I find more satisfying than napping with my cat. Since I left my home state, I have been more attached to my cat, and I often contemplated if I was showing early signs and symptoms of becoming a cat lady. When I really think about my newfound obsession with my cat, the reason is starting to become clear. She reminds me of my mother—independent yet warm, stern yet affectionate and stubborn yet flexible. Whew. I am pleased to deny a potential crazy cat lady diagnosis, and I am delighted by the fact that every time I see my cat, I see my mother. It sounds dehumanizing almost that I would compare the woman who raised me to a cat, but I have a pretty amazing cat and an even more amazing mother. And on a last note, knowing that I will never have 56 mothers means I will never own 56 cats. Crazy cat lady diagnosis denied again. Yes!
I want everyone to sit back and take a deep breath. Do it. Right now. Just breathe. One more time. One more time. Okay, last time. Did you hear the hiss as you pushed air through your nose? Did you hear the hum of your throat as you pushed air thought your mouth? Did you feel your lungs expand and collapse? Did you feel your ribs move to hug your growing belly? Did you feel your spine lengthen? If you felt any one of those, you felt vitality, health, well being, independence and most of all, you felt life. And that sound of breath is by far the most reassuring sound I hear because it is my only indication that there is still a chance. Every time you breathe, let the air fill you, the happiness shower you, and the joy consume you. If the sound of breath isn’t one of the sweetest sounds I get to hear, I don’t know what is.
Have you ever loved someone so much your head rattles with thoughts of them as you try to go to sleep? You send yourself in a daze simply by murmuring their name to yourself? Your heart beats as you await their arrival? Your voice shakes as you map out potential conversations to yourself? You break into a dance number when you think about them while you’re alone? The simple thought of being in their presence is invigorating, stimulating and refreshing? That’s how much I love Tonya. She has been an integral part of my life since third grade, and once a week, I get to bask in her unprecedented grace. Tonya is what I name all my tacos, and today, Tuesday, our lips shall meet once again. Happy Taco Tuesday, better yet, Happy Tonya Tuesday.
My friend forced me to accompany her to this presentation because she hates going places alone. I expected to be bored, annoyed, and on the verge of sleep—all of which turned out to be true. Veering off the topic of the presentation, the presenter left us with a concluding piece of advice “Remember, you don’t have to, you get to.” It was in that moment that I realized all I took for granted, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. I did not have to go with my friend, but I get to have quality friends that I can spend time with. I did not have to answer any of your questions about my experience, but I get to share my story with others. I did not have to get out of bed this morning, but fortunately enough, I got to.
Today, I have had the pleasure of loving the woman of my dreams for 1,185 days. Considering she is a smart aleck who prides herself on correcting me, she will let me know that three years is only 1,095 days; however, what she does not realize are the extra 90 days account for the three months prior to the initiation of our relationship when I drafted vows to a woman I was madly in love with who thought of me as solely her best friend. And although I often joked about her being my best man when I got married, I was preoccupied with the idea of her becoming my bride. She is everything I love about my mom, and everything I hope our future daughter is. Through her, I found peace of mind, faith and hope for a better future. Through her, I found out how to be whole again because she does not complete me, instead she compliments me in the best way possible. Here’s to five years of knowing her, four years of being best friends with her and three years (and three months) of being in love with her.
Welcome to Moojo, pronounced /mo͞o/ like the sound of our grass grazed cows and /jō/ like your average Joe. But here at Moojo, we are far from average. With our warm cookies made locally and baked daily and our gourmet, all-natural ice cream, everyone is sure to find a powerful combination that satisfies their sweet tooth or their salty cravings. But beyond the warm cookies and gourmet ice cream are warm people with gourmet stories. Moojo is more than a product, it is an experience. For the moments that make us laugh, smile, chuckle, blush and smirk, Moojo is here to share them with you and with everyone else. Here, we capture, share and celebrate your most joyous moments—big or small, lasting or transient, unexpected or planned. So wave your ice cream sandwiches in the air on the behalf of real ingredients enjoyed by real people sharing real moments of joy. Sit back and let the Moojo flow, and share a moment of joy.