Category Archives: Friends

Oh Valentines Day…

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It’s no secret that I love love. I love all things love and all things lovely. No amount of heartache will ever change that, whether that makes me stupid, delusional or painfully optimistic or not? I’m determined to not let the assholes that cross my path, change me.

Introspection is worth it, for the right guy. For the right Valentine? I’d tattoo hearts across my inspired ass.

Hence my heart-free derriere…

I woke up with a knee in my back and a cute little arm flung across my neck. My coconut and strawberry scented princess was instantly chatty upon waking up.

I- Mommy…. are you ok? You haven’t said that much about your trip.

J- There’s not much to say. It didn’t work out.

I- Good. He wasn’t cute enough by a long shot.

Oh how your babies can say to your face what everyone else whispers behind your back…

She ran for the shower and her cute little heart print headband while I stared at the ceiling and took a moment to hate this stupid commercial bullshit holiday. Ten minute pity party pause… followed by heart shaped chocolate chip pancakes, heart shaped sandwiches for her lunch and the perfect love note.

“Roses are red, violets are purple… Boys are weird. Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you- xoxo Mom”

I see her walk out of the bathroom, and smile. This is my center. My focus. My happy place. This mommy drenched morning full of hand knit hearts and whipped cream in a can painting her pancakes with even more hearts. Heart shaped banana slices… why not? Nevermind she doesn’t like bananas- lol… it’s the visual I’m after… a side effect of too many years as a graphic designer.

Her life should be dripping in hearts and flowers every day, but definitely today if I have anything to say about it. It makes me ten times happier than some perfunctory dozen roses showing up from some “collector”.

She smiles at me and I ignore her mascara and pink lip gloss for a change. She knows I see it and appreciates the effort I’m making to let her grow up a little… after having learned that you can’t stop it even if you try and it only makes them resent you. I can live with her pretty red eyelashes being painted black… even if I cringe a little at her beauty flying all over the place.

I walked back into my room to throw a sweatshirt over my running gear and found a little red heart folded on my pillow.

I sat on the edge of my bed and fought back tears before I even touched it. It sat there just taunting me, because I know she’s left it for me to find after I take her to school, but I can’t help myself. I reached for it and stopped. Smooth elementary school construction paper, all folded by the sweetest person I’ve ever known… for me.

Proof that I’m doing something right, even if I forget sometimes and let doubt creep in.

Reading it I nearly peed my pants laughing.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, he looked old enough to be your dad and that’s just creepy”

I came out laughing holding it and she looked down laughing.

I- Sorry… someone had to say it. Mama… I know you loved the guy, but….

J- Honey love is love. Real love, loves it all. Real love doesn’t need perfection.

I- Nope, it just IS, and this wasn’t. End of story, sharpen your pencils.

Some way, some how… I’ve managed to raise this child to demand more than mediocre. I’ve taught her the value in real truth and eyes-wide-open faith based in reality- not some pipe dream of roses and diamonds.

I have a dozen diamonds. I have an acre of flowers every year. I plant my own garden and decorate my own soul…. but more than all that?

I’m a mommy. I’ve spent 3 1/2 years of my life breastfeeding. I love babies and I love the simplest pleasures life has to offer. You can paint a permanent smile on my face with a daisy yanked out of the lawn.

Intention is everything with me, and if anything, I strive to outdo the people in my life when it comes to expressing my love…. so I’m knitting little red hearts, and I’m baking little heart cookies I’ll frost with little messages designed to show the people who really show me what real love is, that it is ultimately returned and appreciated.

I’m that girl. That one who refuses to be defeated by someone who would love nothing more than to shut my mouth with threats when the love was tangible just days ago…

I cannot be silenced because I loved with my whole heart. I threw all my cautious feelings out the window and got my terrified ass on a plane. I rolled the dice on love, and lost, again.

And?

I learned a very powerful lesson.

Love is right in your own backyard…

It’s in the people that leave you little love notes on their checks after you bring them their dinner.

It’s in the child that writes you a funny Valentine.

It’s in the friends that are thankful to have you home, alive, safe & sound.

It’s in your healthy vices that keep your heart beating and faithful enough to know that real love exists… and more than anything?

That it doesn’t hurt.

That it doesn’t jump to conclusions.

That it exists purely so that the rest of us who seek it, know to continue- because there are examples of it here and there. I have a girlfriend who said it best the other day…

F- The leap is worth the fall . When it finally works, it’s worth the risk.

I feel the same way. I accept this defeat on a personal and intimate level, and I appreciate the lesson. I have learned more in the last 7 days that I have in the last year. That’s a little staggering.

I have little heart chocolates left in my purse… flowers left at the door… and arms open to hug me in every direction.

I am loved so deeply I knew immediately when it wasn’t that type of love. My Bestie told me when I was leaving that I shouldn’t go. That he hoped it was the biggest mistake I’d ever make and that he’d be there for me when it went bad.

I was furious at him at the time… and now I’m just thankful. They’ve all safeguarded me since I got home. My mom is especially outspoken and she’s been silently loving.

So the arrow broke off in my heart. So I bled out a little… so I’m a little naive <or a lot> and I loved every moment that it was good? I’m still confused, but I’m surrounded by so much love I can’t be anything but thankful.

I’m exempt from Cupid this year. I’ve done my time recently enough that he has to leave me alone.

I bought some roses, I have a pound of Godiva truffles… and I have a beautiful young man willing to drive a few hours to make sure I’m smiling.

No heartache. No judgements. Something so simple as a cupcake and a glass of wine.

Love that begs for time… because nothing is more precious. It could be Boise, Idaho… Provo, Utah…Albuquerque, New Mexico. or Las Vegas, Nevada… Manhattan NYC… it doesn’t really matter.

He’ll come walking in smiling, dropping his jacket, his shirt… his everything… with my bottom lip in his teeth, laughing and begging him to be careful of the scissors in my apron… He’ll have coffee in one hand and daffodils in the other… and it’ll be pretty hard to feel sorry for myself.

Happy Valentine’s day, y’all… Make the most of it or die trying.

♥

A favorite memory…

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My tattoos make some people uncomfortable. It’s only recently that I’ve been really comfortable letting them all hang out. I never really thought one of them through, though…. I got it in utter defiance to the mortification I was feeling.

It was January of last year, and my blog had been sent out to people I went to high school with for YEARS. My ass was verbally hanging out. Hey there, hi there… how do you do? My favorite bartender knew about my worst dates. The bitches that hated me in high school were laughing over my self proclaimed heartache and bad taste in men. I was in shock. I really am incredibly private otherwise. I don’t like men talking about having sex with me in public. I’m not a piece of ass, I’m a lady, regardless of my penchant for bad boys.

A lady who happens to be in touch with her sexual side… so shoot me.

It was chatting with my friends online that my dear friend Miss Creative coined me the Blogoddess. I was in hiding, wearing dark glasses to the grocery store and constantly faced with people approaching me about it.

I died a million deaths that month… and still it continues. Whatev.

I learned to hold my head up. I learned to fail. I perfected the art of falling prey to sweet talkers. Jesus… if I didn’t earn a gold medal in naivete this year, I pity the poor girl that did. I like falling in love- enough that I don’t mind the sledgehammer to the heart when it goes wrong. I’m happy when I’m in love. I glow… ask anybody.

I thought they’d removed my douche bag magnet but apparently they removed my common sense instead. I’m scheduled for the reversal, but beyond that- I’ve come light years in having more faith in myself and continuing to have faith in humanity in spite of the constant proof I’m given to the contrary.

I met my favorite tattoo darling that week, with my nickname carved into my arm and a friendship forged in confidence. But since then I’ve learned to be a little self conscious about it because I don’t want anyone else I know to read this crap, lol… and it requires an explanation that I’m generally hesitant to give.

“It’s a long story” is my canned answer.

But fighting back tears missing him, ordering burgers around 11, our very flamboyant cashier leans forward and smiles at me.

C- I love your tattoos. What does that say? That’s beautiful!

I’m delighted, because no compliment counts so much as one from a gay man.

He speaks up and says “She writes a lot online, thank you senor.”

J- It says Blogoddess…

and this adorable boy smiles at me and sets it all straight…

C- You are and those letters are beautiful- and I am a little boy, not a man, Senor.

We laughed all the way out… and it was absolutely the funniest tattoo experience I’ve had so far. I usually wrap something around myself. I love them, but some people judge you for them. I’m sensy.

But being with someone that wanted me present in the moment made me leave the wrappy thing in the car. I love them, that should be enough for everyone and if it’s not, well then… fuck off- don’t get a tattoo. I left it in the car, only to have the sweetest of compliments paid to me.

It was one of many cool moments in a whirlwind of chaos.

Some fires burn too brightly to burn for long… this experience has been a flash fire in my life, and I’m damn proud I can take away the good moments because it really was fun.

Just one more lesson in a very long line…

I dropped my entire suitcase off at the thrift store, happy to never see any of it again; closing a painful chapter in my life, once and for all.

Ordering a pizza, while breaking out my little black book and ordering some new panties. Misery loves company, and why not be wrapped in cute little red lace panties when I greet him at the door?

Vice Parade

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Ok so I’m a creature of comfort. I like it. Domesticity=heaven in my book. Making breakfast in heels and panties makes me happy.

A wannabe pin-up for sure. I’d put my hair in pigtails if it wouldn’t risk ruining the perfect eggs.

Looking at the day ahead and breathing, finally. Itching to go for a run in the fog.

Cleaning the kitchen… emptying the dead food from the refrigerator and deciding to sink into my own little parade of vices.

So I iron a dress, and curl my hair. Fake lashes, the whole nine. Why not. I feel better and nobody needed to see me for the past week- I’m starving and there’s nothing to eat. Hell I might even go to two stores, or even three. I love grocery shopping. Love it. Especially at Super 1 after my whole Mr. Flintstone crush.

Call it a retail high, or my Mormon roots shining through… but I go down every aisle, happily. I curled my hair for this, I’m gonna enjoy it!

First things first, a dozen roses. Fuck Valentine’s day this year, period. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be tortured by the displays and not see roses in my kitchen. Nope. That’s the beauty of being a self reliant, single woman. $15 is cheap to avoid another boyfriend.

Olive bar… oh gawddd… this is gonna be one of those days. Prawns, fresh basil, grape tomatoes, fresh mozzarella pearls…prosciutto and marinated artichoke hearts. Be still my heart.

Pizza… bacon… and my favorite little Ham & Swiss Lunchable. Oh my. You absolutely CAN buy happiness.

This girl intends to feed this broken heart until it’s full again. Emotional eating? Absolutely- don’t judge.

Fresh tuna, lobster tails, wasabi and baby fingerling potatoes. Everything to make Husband soup. Inoki mushrooms, praise God.

Rootbeer, vanilla ice cream… and everything to bake myself into the white zone.

Two bottles of Sauvingnon Blanc and a bag of beef jerky… because I’m still that pathetic broken hearted girl and it reminds me of him. I’m being honest. Ugh. Ouch. Time to get baking.

Dicing vegetables is zen. I’m meticulous. I have to have perfect little square potatoes, and they have to be fairly uniform. I don’t like haphazard soup… and I enjoy the process. Washing mushrooms and peeling carrots. Making the dough for the noodles and diving deep into my favorite things to save myself.

I’m sad, and it’s awful- and I miss him… and I know that I just have to miss him from now on… and it sucks when you know you just have to survive it, because the pain is not going to end until you let it. It was so right… so incredibly everything I ever wanted… and it’s confusing how it all ended and it’s hard having him hate me. How’s that for truth. Ugh.

Making noodles makes me feel ridiculously attractive. Funny huh? I’m the sexiest noodle making old fashioned girl on the block, lol. I like doing things the old fashioned way. I love making it from scratch. I’m Jenni Crocker Stewart on overdrive, consider this my public service announcement. Y’all are about to gain some weight if you stop by.

Why not make bread if I’m making noodles, right? Sure. Honey whole wheat rolls, for my daughter to pack for lunch this week too. If this nightmare has taught me anything, it’s to stick to my core values and true feelings. I knew something was wrong when he wasn’t waiting for me at the airport. I’m a fucking hypocrite if I tell my kids to listen to their heart and ignore my own. I ignored some red flags here and there because it was just so good. Funny and intimate and amazing. Until it wasn’t. I’m really determined to be thankful for the good moments because the pictures make me smile and the memories are priceless in knowing what it feels like to have someone be wonderful to you. It’s a hell of a story, if nothing else.

My life is a damn movie, lol…

Complete with Puerto Rican Police and being roofied. Word. Come on, laugh with me about it. I’m still in shock. A week ago today I was walking in the rainforest with him, so in love and so sad to be leaving him I dissolved into tears all day. It was fantastic and I am thankful for the memories.

Bake, woman… stop thinking… grating lemons, melting butter… mmmm…. Meyer Lemon Bars.

Fresh pesto with the basil I bought… Mmm the house smells amazing. My bread is rising, my noodles are drying and the broth is simmering lightly on the stove.

Success. Grin. Let the fun begin.

A delightful cigarette before filling a glass of wine… and a bubble bath with my favorite coconut scented bubbles. Scrub my feet and shave my legs… anything to get rid of this tan that is a constant reminder that I just got back. Bruises here and there. My aching heart. It all just sucks to go through. Haven’t I done this enough already? Haven’t I learned my lesson? What the fuck is wrong with me and my judgement? Seriously.

He’s more worried about how I portrayed him than the fact someone put something in my drink… while telling me I don’t know what real love is. To be honest, I think he’s right. I don’t know what it is… but I do know what it’s not.

This is a prime example of what real love ISN’T. Perhaps it could have been, but without faith, love doesn’t stand a chance.

I have an hour before I have to shape my dough into rolls… and I’ve avoided my knitting because I’ve been too depressed. Knitting makes me happy and I have brand new fuzzy brown yarn. Within a few stitches I’m at ease. Calming down. Breathing deeply and allowing myself to miss him even though it’s gone so horribly south. It’s a lot to deal with in a week and I’m still reeling. Nevermind the impact of the climate change on my body, my whole world has been turned upside down and I have been in both heaven and hell in the last 7 days. I don’t recommend it.

This darling little bunny face is shaping himself in my hands and I’m wistful. He wanted me to knit him something and I naturally start. I’m so ridiculously predictable it’s sad, lol. I’ll make him for myself and it will be a reminder that I shouldn’t do too much. Cute little seed stitch ears, a little pink nose… he’s adorable already and he’s simply a decapitated bunny head. Sitting down to quietly make something with your hands, even if it’s nothing more than folding rags into squares is soothing, routine, and peaceful.

Sunday cleaning, fresh fluffy towels in the bathroom and clean sheets on my little darling’s bed. Fluffy white socks, a freshly washed blanket and one of many glasses of wine needed to face this day. Stupid shows about weddings… ya know- cause that’s what you watch when you want to wallow in your breakup.

Because ultimately… if it can work out for that crazy bitch on the TV?

It can definitely work out for you.

Cheers… and give me a call if you’re hungry :)

Oh Stella…

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I miss him like crazy… but…

after every single person I’ve talked to has looked me in the face and laughed…

E- You’ve got to be kidding Jen… you’re not stupid. Shake it off. You and your stupid courageous heart. Get your ass in the game.

I walked in shaky to my first night back at work, thankfully covered by my co-workers who have seen how devastated I was by this “magical” vacation. They pour me a glass of wine. My dear Smartypants and my dear Bestie play Trivia with me while I recover. Broken and in need of a million man march around me. I’m scared. I’m twice as jaded and ten times as distrustful.

This week has taught me about the type of guy that damages you from the inside out… like a shitty microwave oven from the 1980′s.

These noncommittal men in my life have never looked so good.

We lose by a few points and they tug me across the street with them to fill the cracks in my heart with gin…. hmmm… no flood is working, and my Fearless friend walks up to me and smiles.

F- Happy Birthday… and she shoves a pretty man towards me, who is smiling at me like the Cheshire cat.

He smiles at me. Sparkly blue green eyed beauty. He takes his hat off and kisses my cheek and he’s shiny bald.

H- I’d like to make your day better.

Yeah… that’s what it’s like to be single. He’s beautiful… and I”m so fucking over it as my Nightmare torments me all day long.

I ripped out the stitches for the bunny I was knitting for him… I still wanted to make it… out of love and because he’d asked and because I’m just “THAT” girl. Kick me… I need it.

Because while he was sending me the “I adore you and can’t wait to see you” emails… he was sending them elsewhere. Funny how that Nathan effect kicks in and they all come dripping out of the woodwork? Weird. Again… I clearly have a type.

So.

NO MORE. No Men. Nothing. I’m going to torture the masses with my highly sexually frustrated body and exploit them for tips. Fuck men, but not literally. I’d rather have to see Mr. Sketchy McVirgin Islandpants again.

Yeah, you got a pants nickname. Try me. I have more reasons to fuck with you than any. Go for it. The difference in being a decent person is that there are people that give a shit about me, unlike you.

Lie to me? Cheat on me? Make me suffer months of sexual frustration waiting to see you <lmao… yeah right… lol…>

You fell into everything everyone thought you’d be. Less than…. or even worse? Dangerous. When drinking you were embarrassing to spend time with. The bartenders apologized to me. The men surrounding you circled in and bought drinks for me. It’s your fault my drink was drugged if you didn’t drug it yourself.

The jury is out, since you’ve done nothing but blame me since you’ve had cold hard proof my drink was drugged. What guy acts like that?

The guilty one.

I’ve had a laundry list of women email me today to tell me they were in the same situation as me with him… and wow… what a guy. He has the balls to tell me I ruined my daughters life by not being his high paid trophy wife?

He lost it all when he lost me. I loved him regardless that I’ve dated men half his age. I overlooked a lot. I was satisfied and I loved him completely…

Then shit went haywire and he blamed me…

So my dear friend handed me an early birthday gift. A 30 year old bald man in cuff links and dress shoes. Smiling at me. Asking me where he could drive me…

Hmmm… mmm.. hm… haa …hmmm ha… hmmm…

Well then. I’d love to say I’m really broken up about the whole thing… but I’m really not.

Faith, honesty and kindness aren’t optional and no matter what… sweet beats asshole every day in my book.

He smiled at me and buckled my seatbelt. He asked me if I needed anything on the way home <chocolate milk> and then he kept me up all night telling me bedtime stories.

lol…

Stella doesn’t waste a second in getting her groove back.

Preconceived Notions…

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I’m always amused by the people who read my blog and think it’s a description of my character or even a shadow of who I really am.

I’m especially bemused by the people who believe everything they read. I’d be willing to bet these are the same folks that watch Fox news.

This is my verbal exhale, my wordy little cathartic playground. Play nice or fuck off. Yeah… that’s how it is.

I couldn’t care less if you’re critical, judgmental or hell-bent to dislike me. Go ahead- drink your big ol’ glass of Hater-ade and keep on reading. If anything you inspire me to be spicy…just to get under your skin and piss you off.

I’m an amazing woman. I’m a great daughter, a happy mommy and so very much more than a bunch of words typed in anger, sadness, disappointment… or even joy, love and hope.

If I’m going to be judged by anyone? It’ll be by the people I love and care about that I choose to have in my personal life. If you know me personally? Then none of this comes as a surprise.

I’m the one that leaves dinner on your doorstep, takes your kids when you’re sick and knits your mom a hat when she has cancer and all her hair falls out. True story.

I love deeply… I forgive quickly… and I do not carry a grudge. I move through my life with respect to everyone and everything around me. I say nice things. I do nice things. I believe in Karma before all else, and if you think for a second that I don’t judge myself a million times harder than anyone? Think again.

There’s a lot you’ll never know about me, because for as much as I share… I am intensely private and constantly concerned about hurting someone’s feelings. I don’t like it when people dislike me- and I will go to the ends of the earth to apologize when I’m wrong.

My mother told me nearly every day as a child… “To err is human, to forgive, divine”. We were browbeaten with the golden rule & taught to help, love & nurture the people and things in our lives.

So shoot me if I’m a bit of a vixen behind closed doors… shouldn’t every fantastic woman be?

I’ve put my trust where it wasn’t valued, and I’ve shared my heartache with the masses. If that makes me a bad person in your eyes then I apologize for your inept holier than thou attitude… OH and I have a list of guys I’d love to set you up on a date with… <snicker>…

I’ve made turning the other cheek an art form and have learned to keep my chin up even as the water flooded in up to my pearl-clad earlobes.

I’m a woman, Phenomenally… Phenomenal woman, that’s me. – Maya Angelou

Feeling a little sensitive this morning, obviously… and definitely annoyed that people still waste time judging anyone else- but whatev… If it’s one thing I’ve learned by blogging, it’s that you can’t please everyone, and sometimes it’s just a lot more fun to tell someone to kick rocks, plus I’m pretty good at burning the verbal house down.

Would life be any fun if we were all the same? No. Would it be better if I wasn’t outspoken? No. Should I give a fuck what anyone thinks? No. That’s their shit- not mine.

I happen to think I’m pretty sweet. I think you’d have a hard time arguing with me if you were a friend of mine, or loved by me. In fact, I know this- because I make an effort to really truly love the people I’m blessed to have in my life.

All of whom would go to the ends of the Earth for me, because I’d do the same.

Some things you don’t know- and should… because obviously I care what you think even though I wish I didn’t, lol….

~ I’m a sentimental hoarder. I save all the art projects, all the report cards, etc… that my children have made. My favorites are laminated… ya know… because they’re my most priceless possessions. I have a china cabinet in my living room full of homemade “treasures”. People look in it and laugh… but if the house caught on fire I’d risk my life to save its contents.

~ I’ll hold your baby while you eat, even while I’m working. I’m that nice lady that refills your drink and charms your little monster long enough that you can eat hot food. Regardless of the tip or if it affects your opinion of me. I do it because I love little people and I’m a supermom.

~ I remember what your favorite color is, your favorite candy… your favorite flowers- because I’m thoughtful and I want you to have what you love on your birthday.

~ I write under pressure of a deadline because I’m writing a book and I would love to not have to ask “Would you like chips or fries with that” for the rest of my life. I look at the big picture, not the thumbnails. I care about the example I set for my children and though I’m proud that I’m able to support this crazy expensive household… it’s more important to me that they see me do what I love and what I enjoy because I want that for both of them.

~ Regardless of money being ridiculously tight- you can have my last $5 if you need it. I give freely with no expectation of the same being returned. I won’t hassle you to repay it- but if you don’t it will definitely be the last time. I’m nice, not stupid :)

~ I make heart shaped pancakes… and I’m so OCD I separate the batter so that some of them are pink and some of them are white… I know… it’s silly… but those are the little details that make me have a wonderful day….I don’t eat them. ♥

~ I feed the cat tuna fish and the dogs chicken and rice every once in a while… purely because I would be miserable if I had to eat the same old boring dry crunchies every day.

~ I put my extra pennies in the take-a-penny dish at the gas station.

I’m nice, dammit… and a blessing to have in your life if you’re so lucky.

So there.

Hmph…. I’m burning these damn people pleasing panties, once and for all.