Oh Valentines Day…

♥♥♥A Valentine throwback from 2012 ♥♥♥

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’re sad, 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, somehow… 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 5 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 with ill intentions.

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.


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.

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

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 only for more time… because nothing is more precious.

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

Eleven lessons learned…

To say I’ve had a hard year is like saying Bernie Madoff only borrowed a few bucks.

I’ve spent enough money on water that I could have bought a new car. A nicer car than I drive… lol

I’ve dated King Douchebag…  and several of his minions. To be compared to Nathan Steinbauer means you’re worthless, for all the minions that read my blog, and yes, I mean you- if I haven’t told you to your face <yet>, you were a total waste of my time. ALL of you.


In making mistakes you gain wisdom… and I’m sharing my favorite eleven lessons I learned this year….

1. Men don’t lie. Boys do… and generally because they’re compensating for <cough> failures in other areas. Especially the men with equipment failure. Dude… we notice- FIX it. In this day and age, it’s just sad not to. If it’s not a problem with your dick, just that you are one? You serve a purpose in teaching all of us how to avoid you. Way to be an anti-role model. Way to aim low.

2. Marriage isn’t captivity unless you marry the wrong guy, and then it’s a life sentence. I swore I’d never do it again- but I’ve learned precisely why people get married recently. When you love someone so much that you want to be the only one privy to their heart? You lock it up. I claimed wife status again tonight after a customer was being rude.

DB- Nice rock, did your sugardaddy give you that?

J- No, my husband did, but maybe I’ll call him that later and see how he likes it.

DB- Hey I’m sorry, no offense to you or your husband. He must really love you.

J- I’m the lucky one, thank you.

DB- It’s cool when it works out like that. I’m divorced.

Shocker… lol… he was actually really cool after that- and apologized again. All I needed for him to respect me, was a husband. <eyeroll>

3. Any bad day can be fixed. Drop your clothes at the door and dance in your heels & panties with me to a little Biggie Smalls Hypnotize… I promise you’ll feel better.

4. Tomorrow really is always a new day. I’ve juggled so many damn bills this year it’s scary- and if I can do it, anyone can. If you’re willing to make the effort, you can pull it off, some way, some how. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy… well… yeah I would… cause it sucks… and I got a brand new pair of bitch panties for Christmas. It’s never too late to learn to stand up for yourself- and it only pisses off the people accustomed to taking advantage of you.

5. Fleas are forever… these damn dogs will be the death of me, I swear- or at least the cost of the Advantix.

6. People who rent say “NO PETS” for a reason. If you thought you didn’t love anyone’s children as much as yours, try loving a dog who requires that you pick dog hair off the milk carton IN the refrigerator. I rest my case. Want me to love your dog? Vacuum up the fucking hair. Every day, like it needs to be, but I shouldn’t HAVE to do.

7. Wear repellent. Want to scare off the douche bags? Put your favorite diamond on. Now when they smile and say “Ohhh holy shit, she’s married and what a rock” … I can laugh and say… “No…. What. A. Man.” It doesn’t matter it’s not from him. It doesn’t matter that I’m not married. My boyfriend is so good, that no one else will do…now that’s a job well done.  What matters is that men do have a healthy respect for the fact I’ve gleefully taken myself off the menu, and clearly- I’m expensive. Bonus- I get to wear something sparkly & pretty. Two birds, one rock, Amen.

8. Don’t shit where you eat. Now you’d think I’d have already learned this one, but what can I say… he was charming and attentive and I fell for his hoarding bullshit game. I’m reminded what a mistake it was every single time I have to run into him again. What was I thinking…. ???? More importantly, wtf was he thinking? It takes a whole new level of stupid to disrespect the girl writing the words your friends are reading. Read ’em and weep, Hoarder- and hey… pick yourself up a tshirt while you’re at it.

9. Thou shalt not borrow without asking. Especially if it’s something of mine. I don’t share. I don’t have to, and I don’t want to. I’m nice enough that I’ll probably say yes if you ask, but I’d rather not. All bets are off if you make the decision for me and take something without asking… that’s right up there with pouring lighter fluid from the bottle into an open flame… you will get burned. I’m a huge fan of painful consequences.

10. Asking for help when you need it is the most grown up thing you can learn how to do. I die trying to do everything myself… and sometimes end up in a bigger mess as a result.  Help… my least favorite four letter word… is the one I need to learn most.

11. Real friends are priceless. These are the friends that don’t touch your things… regardless of whether we’re talking about men, makeup or your favorite sweater. Yes, as a matter of fact… I do expect them to hate the people I hate. Nobody’s  holding a gun to your head, but if you’re one of my true friends, you will know exactly how that sort of loyalty feels in return. I’m the one that helps you bury the body, but if you betray me? Brace yourself. It’s cold on the dark side of the moon, and you may as well move there because I do not forget and I do not forgive. I wont hate you- but if you were on fire and I was holding a glass of water? I’d drink it.

Rough year… holy shit… but it’s only getting better. I have amazing friends, amazing Love and a family that makes the chaos of it all, worthwhile. My family is still broken, but the details are falling into place and life is about to get easier. Hopefully at some point I’ll be able to say the same about the fracture in our family. Until then, we will strive to be happy.

My New Year started with a message of my favorite variety, and I’ve been smiling since.

It’s a good sign.

It’s going to be a good year…

Happy New Year, y’all… I hope you all have the same love in your life that I woke up to, on the first day of the new year. I already like this year better.

Oh She of so much faith…

I woke up to silence… a tiny furry Yorkie dog sleeping as close as he can get to me without being actually ON me. Kicking the covers off, knowing as soon as my naked foot landed on top of the fluffy cloud of down comforters heaped on my bed, my little Tucker Max would be running for my sparkly red toenails. He loves feet. Especially mine.

Giggling & fighting him from licking my toes as he tunnels under the sheets to follow them, I’m forced out of bed to let him out.

On a soft dusky rainy morning in a sleepy silent house. It’s 65* with a latte and the hot tub beckoning me. In nothing but my new Halloween pumpkin panties that say “Trick me”  and the candy necklace my darling friend brought me last night as a gesture of “I told you so” love. Goosebumps spreading from my neck to my knees reminding me that fall is in the air. Smiling at the seasons. Happy with the perennial details.

I love the little things that mean so much. I love the tiny details that make me happy. The perfect imperfection of my life that keeps me going.

I put a million things away today, I folded laundry for hours. I swept, mopped, dusted and ran for a while. I focused on the one foot in front of the other approach, knowing what peace there is in the details. Clean floors make me smile. A clean refrigerator makes life beautiful. A nail appointment where he takes one look at me and frowns.

N- How’s the love life- uh oh.

J- No bueno. He died a quick death just like the rest of them. Lying, cheating, you name it… same old story.

N- No. You need one nice man. Not bad boy. You are very nice, you are a good woman. You will be happy, not sad.

J- Aww, thanks… but I’m inclined to think it doesn’t exist. I’m more than a little jaded these days.

N- I’m a good husband. A good father. I love my family. You will find that too.

This is just awesome, even my favorite nail guy is feeling sorry for me. Awesome…. he replaces them completely, makes them sparkly and talks me into an eyebrow wax.

So I look like a blonde girl with Asian skinny eyebrows… lesson learned. In fact I think I was born with thicker eyebrows than I have right now.

Still, I left feeling a million times better. Prettier… not so completely offended. Reaffirmed and readjusting to silence between us where he’d been so present before. For the record, the silence sucks most of all. It’s the biggest downside to breaking the addiction.

As a comfort eater from the word GO, I have pizza on the brain, combined with not wanting to cook in my lovely sparkly new pink nails… Gourmet Vegetarian pizza from Papa Murpy’s Take & Bake. With Canadian bacon… because it’s better like that 🙂

A fifth of Goose from the liquor store… because it’s that sort of week. Ohhhh and olives from the olive bar… ever the olive junkie.

I miss him as a diversion. Plain and simple. The reality of him is far different. He’s a snake in a polo. A shark in argyle. An asshole in a nice guy’s costume.

Who knows what or who he is, I don’t think he even knows… and I know precisely the woman I am.

I’m a dirty princess. I weed in designer jeans. I wear gloves to cover my beautiful nails and I get dirty. I garden, I can veggies and jam. I knit. I sew. I paint. I write. I smile you into smiling with me. I dance my feet to hell and gone. I work my ass off. I do more in a day than most people in a week. I juggle more right now than anyone else I know.

I’m fucking exhausted, and gawd dammit I deserve a man that isn’t a douche bag.

I deserve someone worth spoiling equally as much as I deserve to be spoiled. It all seems to be such an imbalance.

So I did what any self respecting faithful princess does…

and I bought myself a pumpkin…. a Cinderella pumpkin to be specific.

My $6 says it’s ok to have faith… and it’s ok to believe in fairytales and pumpkins.

My $6 says it’s ok to continually roll the dice, even though I’m equipped with a douche bag magnet and the odds are stacked against me.

At some point? I’m going to roll the dice and win.

At some point? They can’t all be frogs.

He doesn’t need to be a prince. Just good. Just honest… and worthy of the ridiculously delightful feminine hurricane I am. Capable of keeping up with the tornado of yarn & fabric. In love with my pickled asparagus. Sincere in his words and actions… and inspirational enough to leave me torn between curling up in his arms to fall asleep and getting up to write about him.

He just needs to make me think, make me feel and make me laugh… at myself…

But never at my princess pumpkin, or the heart that believes in the magic of it.

I’m canning ginger peach jam tomorrow… along with white plum vanilla bean… all before work.

More importantly? I’m smiling every time I see my pumpkin, blissful with a side of smug.

What a stupid foolish boy with horrible taste and what a ridiculous crybaby to waste a minute crying over someone who wasn’t even worthy.

Sparkly pink nails are wonderful…but my Cinderella pumpkin fixed everything.

Here’s to the best $6 I’ve ever spent.

Lucky Me.

He grins at me, walks to the bathroom and I fall back into my pillows and laugh the same laugh I laughed in junior high when I made it on to the cheerleading squad. Sheer unadulterated joy.

Looking over the edge of the bed at his jeans on the floor… staring up at me with one simple message.

“Lucky You”


Blissed out. Grinding coffee beans. Delighting in making him breakfast.

Cracked out on being the lucky girl on the receiving end of another perfect day spent with McSteamy.

My darling roommate said it best.

E- It’s like you plucked him out of a romance novel. He’s beautiful… and he exudes sweet. He just oozes goodness.

He’s like that. He’s honest- to a fault. He smiles at me and I would liken the feeling to being on a roller coaster.

Beautiful green … or are they blue???… eyes. A pretty smile…. and oh. my. goodness…. dimples.

My very own beautiful underwear model.

All those bad dates, bought me a helluva lot of good karma, apparently.

Because he makes me laugh. He says nice things about people. He carries things for me.

McS- Let me carry that.

J- ha ha ha… I’m used to carrying things for myself.

McS- That’s weird.

He doesn’t even consider not carrying things for me as an option. He holds my fingertips in the car.

He reaches for, and holds my hand in his sleep.

We’re taking things slowly, enjoying the hell out of each other’s company… and really and truly both deserving some happiness, and some light, easy spontaneous joy.

It’s bliss in it’s purest form.

I like him.

I want him to like me as much as I like him.

I think he already does.

He left with a kiss, with plans to meet up after work… and he called within minutes of me getting off work.

I took him to my favorite beach, giggling and laughing down the path… feeling like the dorkiest 14 year old girl to ever walk the planet.

Pulling him into the river while ignoring his complaints about the cold water. Enjoying any excuse to see him with less clothes on. He’s beautiful. He’s smiling at me.

I’m infatuated to the point of mental retardation.

Pulling me in close, he whispers to me that there are kids there but he can’t help it… and kisses me quickly.

He has a faint bite mark on the right side of his neck. I’m mortified, and he notices my blush when I see it.

McS- Do you know anything about that?

J- You need one to match on the other side.

We’re laughing, my arms are around his neck and we are both present and invested in enjoying and living in the moment. This is what happy feels like.

McS- I’m hungry- are you hungry?

J- Have dinner with me. Picnic at the beach?

Caprese salad, pesto tortellini on a picnic table at the beach watching the sunset.

Absolutely the best date, ever…. and that’s the second time it’s happened with McSteamy.

It’s an early night, and I drop him off much to my grave disappointment in parting with him early… we both have a billion things to do and work early tomorrow.

He grins at me.

I blush…

McS- Maybe I’ll have to start taking vitamins since I’m hanging out with you.

J- The Mountain Dew isn’t working anymore, huh?

McS- No, it’s not, he yawns.

J- I’ll take that as a compliment.

McS- You should.

Such the perfect Sunday, such an amazing date… and such a wonderful guy.

I am thankful- it’s a nice departure from Crazytown and I appreciate every single fantastic thing about him.

I’m grateful, and so is he.

It’s a blast. He’s amazing… and we’re taking it one second at a time.

But I’m also absolutely going to break out my Lucky jeans the next time he comes over, so that he can feel as lucky as I do.


It’s supposed to be easy.

Love isn’t supposed to make you worry, make you cry or keep you up all night.

Ok so ideally it keeps you up all night… 🙂

He says nice things. He’s honest.

More than that? He’s McSteamy.

I flirt shamelessly with him and he grins his beautiful dimpled face at me and looks down. He’s a little shy. It’s outrageously hot… just like him.

Working 10 hours on 4 hours of sleep was nothing if not herculean. I’ve never been so sure I wasn’t going to make it. I was facing marrying bottles of ketchup and stocking napkins, pulling out money to bribe my darling busser to help alleviate my suffering…

and in walks the object of my affection.

I’m a sucker for beautiful things… and he is no exception.

Arms stretching the sleeves of his shirt to the point I can’t help but look at them. He talks to me and I can hardly look him in the eyes.

He’s McSteamy… my friend said it best.

MSOK- Holy Shit Jen. He looks like that guy on Grey’s Anatomy… the really hot one.

J- Right?

I’m enjoying just laughing again. He is the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I’d call in sick just to spend the day kissing his beautiful mouth… but then I’d miss what he has to say- which is ALWAYS nice.

He uses his power for good. He’s my very own modern day Superman.

McS- I want to see you later? Swimming? Fishing?


It’s guaranteed to be fun, and if all else fails I can just sit around and stare at him.

I’m reminded that just when you least expect it, and when you’re determined NOT to look…

Happiness falls right in your pretty little lap.