Day 9: What are 5 passions you have?

  1. Truth. I don’t like grey area and I don’t like games. If you want to know how I feel, ask. I’ll tell you. Lying pisses me off more than anything and liars are weeded out of my life like the dandelions in my garden. I have a lot of patience, but I don’t fuck around with lies. Hurt me with the miserable truth and I’ll love and respect you forever, but lie and you’re dead to me.
  2. Knitting. It’s a guilty pleasure because I rarely have the time to turn my yarn into anything but silky soft loops of therapeutic peace on my needles. I have half a toy elephant dress finished and my baby nieces are growing at the speed of light. My Dumpling had to go with her daddy last month and it always makes her a little anxious at first. I knit her a bunny with a tiny heart on it’s chest that we spray with my perfume when she has to go. It’s a snuggly soft reminder that home is just a state of mind, a smell or a person. The bunny goes a long way towards making her feel right at home, right away… with her dad. Knitting is magic at your fingertips, all you need are a few sticks and some string.
  3. Writing. In the last year I’ve written three times as much as before, with most of it private or contracted. The work I’ve turned in professionally has earned me more financially this year as well. That’s not what has stuck with me though. I find it so much more satisfying that I wrote my own self out of feeling like warm trash this year. In yelling at the world through a keyboard, I taught myself to let shit go and move on. I love the entertainment of it all, but the therapy of it all is why I began writing in the first place. Sorry to all of you along for this crazy ride, and thank you for your shared perspective.
  4. Love. I love out loud in ways that make me painfully uncomfortable on occasion. I still wouldn’t have it any other way. I smile at strangers, I help people who are grumpy… it’s just who I am. It comes from my adorably sweet grandma Elaine and my equally spicy red-headed firecracker Grandma Afton, both of whom taught me to love the whole world and everything in it, to my toes. Sure, sometimes it ends badly and I end up hurt again… but at the end of the day, purely because I refused to give up, I like to believe my life will have been full of more love than I knew what to do with because I never let fear stop me from having faith.
  5. Gardening. My beautiful obsession with the dirt has gotten me through things I never thought I would survive. Losing my son, my house going through foreclosure (twice), an epic water leak in the yard, countless cheating boyfriends, 5 years of celibacy, having a baby alone from birth, poverty, depression, etc… You name it, I’ve coped with everything by putting on a headlamp and pulling weeds into the wee hours of the morning. Some of the worst and most insurmountable pain can be soothed by digging potatoes and beets. Some of my greatest heartache has only been kept company by tomato plants in need of staking, peppers in need of picking and long, quiet rows waiting for a fresh blanket of straw. When I’m at my breaking point and in desperate need of a reminder to keep myself grounded… I take my shoes off and stick my bare feet in the dirt.

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What are you passionate about?

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Day 2: Discuss your current relationship.

Just the word “relationship” gives me hives. I have zero interest in any that resemble one I’ve had before. I have been exceedingly single for the past 6 years and I’m slightly afraid that I won’t ever want to belong to another human being again. 

Confession: Do you know what I have now? A girlfriend. 

I should introduce her a little, since you read all about the bad men I love. I should tell you a little more about the great lady in my life. 

She’s funny in all the moments I need her to be. She makes me laugh when I’m on the verge of looking for rope to hang from the rafters with. She laughs at my bad jokes and finds even worse for me.

She loves dad jokes and cheesy pick up lines. 

She’s resilient in ways I couldn’t ever dream up. She juggles more than she should try to keep in the air and she rarely drops a thing. If she does, she laughs it off and tries again. It’s one of my favorite things about her. 

She’s crafty AF and there are times I hate her for the mess her creative process results in. She leaves yarn and knitting needles EVERYWHERE. She has a glue gun on the counter where most women leave makeup and she saves WAY too much in the hopes it can be repurposed into something magical.

She’s always silky soft, smells amazing and has a difficult time saying no, three more of my favorite things. She’s the sexiest girl I’ve ever met, with an appetite to match. She keeps me awake at night, most nights. I’m not complaining because those are the most noteworthy and satisfying nights in my life. 

She’s sensitive beyond reason, but that’s the cost of feeling everything so deeply. She loves so freely that she leaves pieces of herself behind with every failed attempt. It doesn’t make her jaded and I’m forever in awe of how wantonly reckless she is in pursuit of her own happiness.

She has a million fucks to give, without hesitation or regret. 

She can cook and bake the pants off anyone, any day. No culinary mountain is too high and she rejoices in purchasing another kitchen appliance if necessary. This darling woman may be the death of me, but I will die satisfied, well fed and with an enviable mitten collection, if nothing else 

She’s driven, she’s focused… and she’s fucking lethal if/when she wants to be. She doesn’t like no and doesn’t wait to be disappointed. She will smile you into submission, charm you into agreeing to things you don’t want to do and persuade you to capitulate willingly enough that you think it was your idea in the first place. 

Like a walking bowl of hot and sour soup…she warms you from the inside out and leaves a sharp reminder in your mouth that even the sweetest girls have a flip side. 

It’s taken me 43 years to find her, to love her and to celebrate the good and not so good parts of what makes her my best friend. 

She’s me. 

For the first time in my life I’ve focused on building a better relationship with myself and the parts that make me cringe. Instead of searching for validation in a man, I’ve spent the last few years focused on BEING a good partner as opposed to looking for one. 

It’s still early but I have to say.. I think she’s the one. 🙂

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Day 1: 20 random facts about me.

  1. I spend more on yarn than makeup. Always will. While I realize that I should probably care more about learning how to make myself pretty.. I just don’t care AT ALL. I’d rather be ugly, with mittens.
  2. I apologize for everything. It makes one of my sisters yell at me… and you should hear her flip out when I apologize to her for her being mad at me for apologizing. Oof… I can’t help it. I’m still learning to like myself. (Sorry).
  3. I can’t wear mismatched socks. I don’t understand those of you who can.
  4. I don’t eat eggs because I had a violent stepfather who forced me to eat them until I vomited. He had a monumental effect on my life because I’m so careful not to inflict the same life long suffering on my children or those that are in my life. Don’t like it? Don’t eat it. I will cut a bitch defending your right not to.
  5. With a Catholic foundation I built for myself and Mormon roots that run deep into the heart of Utah… I am an atheist. I would love to believe in God, Jesus and all their friends… but I’m pragmatic and have suffered enormous trauma. Two things that make faith a whole lot less available. I have a serious weakness for a faithful man though. I don’t know exactly why, other than the sight of a man on his knees in prayer makes mine buckle. Go figure.
  6. Thread count is my religion. Call me shallow AFTER you sleep on some 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton. I dare you.
  7. I can’t love a man who hates tomatoes.
  8. Same goes for men who love Android phones. I hate them and I want to see those three dots from the man I adore. I’m an apple girl, through and through.
  9. Brewers yeast on your popcorn is not optional if you’re eating it at my house. It’s NOT called nutritional yeast, either. I’ve eaten it since I was born and this whole “nutritional” trend annoys me. I will re-label any jar that refers to it incorrectly.
  10. I quit CrossFit and I’m heartbroken over it. Between the $334 a month (for an hour a week) it costs and missing work, I was going bankrupt trying to be healthier. I’m really proud of myself for transitioning my workouts to home and determined to stick to my goals, even if I have to light a fire under my own ass. It cost me $1200 to lose 10 pounds and I gained them all right back as soon as I started eating again. Live, learn and lift.
  11. My best friend is my therapist. I owe her my life and all the good things in it.
  12. I believe in love, marriage and building a life with someone. That has taken a decade and is still painful for me to admit. I fell in love for the first time in my adult life last year and it destroyed me a whole lot. I didn’t like who it turned me into and I spent a year working on my character so that I didn’t deliver the same thing to some poor unsuspecting man.
  13. I’m happy. I work really hard at it.
  14. I sincerely regret getting a puppy… but I know it will all work out in the long run. Commitment is challenging for me and adding more stress to my life was perhaps not the best idea I’ve ever had, but she’s such a big part of what helps me breathe instead of scream, laugh instead of cry and cling to that last tiny shred of faith I have.
  15. I’m afraid of a lot. This year is bringing a lot of ENORMOUS change and I’m learning to just have faith and keep walking forward. Where we land doesn’t matter as long as we are together when we get there, right?
  16. It’s 4:11 AM and I got up at 2 AM to write. I’ve lost my ability to sleep again. Virtually anything that disturbs my sense of peace and tranquility results in me being exhausted. Yay for undereye concealer.
  17. My son hasn’t spoken to me in 10 years. My mother and one sister have a relationship with him and that precludes me from really loving either of them as much as I’d like to. I’m just being honest and fallible. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again. I was a damn idiot 10 years ago and I don’t blame him for bailing. I would’ve too if I could have.
  18. I’m stupid dramatic when it comes to my feelings… of which I have too many.
  19. I can drive anything, learned to fly a plane when I was 16 and use Google to fix or do anything I haven’t learned yet. I am incapable of asking for help until the whole dumpster is on fire.
  20. At 43, I’m still absolutely fucking things up left and right, but I come from a place of peace and reliability now, where I used to have such a chip on my shoulder and expect so much more from the universe than I was ever promised or “owed.” I don’t hitch my wagon to anything… I carry it myself.

Did I really agree to this? 🙂

 


30 Days of Nonsense

I hate dating. I admit it. I’m a relationship girl. I’d rather fast forward to the sleeping in his t-shirt and making him coffee part… the beginning stages are not my cup of tea.

Sidenote: I sleep in my favorite guy’s shirt. Perhaps that’s why I am not at all inclined to try to work myself into a more agreeable one. Part of the magical beauty of him is that he’s no threat to my freedom. That’s a difficult shirt to compete with.

So when I talked to my darling Rachael today and she told me I was woefully behind on writing, I told her to go find me a 30 day challenge and I’d do it. 

J-Not that damn 30 days of truth again, though. I’ve done that twice and still feel naked as a result.

Today marks the painful anniversary of my stupid ass getting on a plane and flying to Puerto Rico for a first date with a (SURPRISE) married man. 8 long years have changed everything about me and I’m still getting to know myself again.

30 days of nonsense is always more about my own soul searching than it is about meeting contracts and deadlines. It’s always more about seeing that I’m not still floating around like a hurricane.

hhh

Here we go…


Repost: My Favorite Bookmark

Eight years ago, my beloved friend wrote this for me. I found it yesterday in the archives while I was looking for something else. I haven’t checked if his links connect to anything and some of it may be scandalous as hell, but it’s such an incredible reminder to tell your friends and family how much you love about them, and why. Write it down. It may be all they have left of you someday. xoxo Jenni

*Guest Blog, Thanks Anthony*

I have to introduce myself, My name is Anthony, and I love Jenni. I asked her to let me write about her for this 100,000 day. I’m her biggest fan. I read every day. I know everything about her and she still surprises me.

“I’m the Clive Davis of blogs in my circle of friends because we are all hooked and I found her.”

I found her on Google, looking for help knitting a Koolhaas hat. I saw that she was having the same issues I was having and she was using the same yarn. It was meant to be. She was meant to be my friend. I started reading back, to the beginning, and was hooked on her writing style and the way she is so relateable. It is like reading her journal like she whines sometimes. It takes a strong woman to put herself out there on paper or screen. She finished the hat, and in time I finished mine too. I’m a gay man and I cry right along with her when she’s hurt (again). I tell her every time I think the guy is no good. She never listens. She justifies all the red flags and lets them get away with murder.

“She’s a diamond in a bag of rocks and diamonds need love too.”

I was a subscriber through the stupid lazy hippie boat stealer. You should all read back. See her when she’s happy. Fall in love with who she really is because she really loved him and it’s evident in her words and actions. All the venom that followed was necessary so she could have her love returned 100%.

“I’ll marry her myself if one of you doesn’t catch on to what you have right in front of you. We’ll have matching aprons and be the envy of the whole neighborhood.”

She was a disaster when she started dating. Shy, awkward and self conscious. The internet dating really toughened her skin and she learned to defend herself a little. Actually not really. She’s still too nice. She’s the sweetheart that bakes chocolate chip cookies while he fucks her friends. She continues to bake cookies after she finds out, with a smile masking the disappointment. She really doesn’t know how cool she is. I spend every minute of every conversation with her feeling like the only thing she’s paying attention to and laughing every minute. She makes you feel her love. She worries about everything and everyone. She doesn’t sleep but I wouldn’t either if I were her. She’s a farmer.

She survived the breakup with the loser, survived internet dating… and met a guy. I’m not a fan of his, but he lit her up. She wrote like she never had before, and I called her daily for more details. It was just what she didn’t need… but it fixed a lot of the damage the jerk had done to her. It wasn’t the worst thing, I just hate every one of these guys who would ever consider hurting anyone like her. She really is as nice as they aren’t. Just over a year ago, the blog rolled over to 16,000 hits so there’s been a big increase in traffic and it has changed how she writes and how open she is.

“She’s filled empty space with assholes. None of whom bear mentioning. They don’t deserve the recognition.”

The lady loves a jerk, no matter what she says. Including the most recent, The Vagina Hoarder.  It’s movie worthy. He knew how fatal her words could beShe was so bored with him she couldn’t treat us with an  Ohhhhh Jenni rant. Lucky bastard, and an example of how much of a lady she really is. She didn’t want her hurt to become embarrassing for him publicly no matter how much I offered to pay her. Mean old selfish bitch.

She loves food and cooking and people who love food and cooking and she embraces every traditional role.  She loves to sew monster dolls. They’re all original and the coolest stuff my office has ever seen. Mine holds my cell and is made of cashmere. It’s a cyclops, with wings and a forked tail. She’s a treasure because it isn’t stylish to be old fashioned anymore. It isn’t cool to sew stuffed animals (even if they have fangs) and you’re supposed to have make-up in your handbag not knitting and baby booties.

She is the very last woman I would ever want someone to harm, but she asks for it. She doesn’t learn, she doesn’t listen and she doesn’t see. She doesn’t believe me when I tell her how relevant she is to so many people and in so many strangers lives. She makes me feel like I’m not alone and like I’m not stupid, just human and in the same situation as a really cool woman. If this can happen to her, its normal if it happens to the rest of us.

Cheers to my favorite bookmark. Keep your chin up gorgeous. You’ll get there, all you need to do is……………………………………………

Book a ticket.