Becoming devoid of faith cannot be my conclusion here because I refuse to believe I lack faith in my remaining time in this life. Losing faith in the God I’ve known, trusted in, and worshipped for 46 years is …well, that’s a sad conclusion and a decision you don’t take lightly, that’s for sure. And I don’t think it’s just a disagreement with man-made forms of religion either, because this feels stronger somehow. This feels like an actual loss of faith in the One. You know, the Big Guy, the Man with a Plan…God, himself. Because if there were indeed a God, why did he let our family fall apart?


My Blood

Too many times I feel I overlook my oldest. Not my oldest as in the step-daughter I raised but don’t speak to, but my biological, firstborn oldest. She is strong. Here is another short she wrote for her last year in high school for their Literary Press talent show, Pam Slam.

My Blood

Psychosis After COVID-19?

I read an article a bit ago from The New York Times that claims a small number of Covid patients are developing “severe psychotic symptoms.” This is horrifying. Is it true that COVID-19 could wreak such havoc? Time will tell, I suppose, but how much more can this virus do?

Psychosis After COVID-19?

Smell the Flower

Some things said to a child are so entirely bright, intelligent, and straightforward that I feel ridiculous and incompetent. While raising the children, teaching better coping skills is more challenging than you think. Our youngest, Sadie, brought home a little ditty, to help with anger management at our house.

“Anger is a short madness.”

Smell the Flower

Our Oldest

My oldest has this uncanny ability to make me proud af. Sure, she’s only 17-years-old, but impressive nonetheless.

Our Oldest


“Fight it, take the pain ignite it, tie a noose around your mind loose enough to breathe fine, and tie it to a tree tell it, ‘You belong to me! This ain’t a noose this is a leash and I have news for you, you must obey me!‘”

– Tyler Joseph, Holding On To You lyric, TØP


“My Favorite Color is You.”

Sober up

Hello, hello
I’m not where I’m supposed to be
I hope that you’re missing me
‘Cause it makes me feel young

Hello, hello
Last time that I saw your face
Was recess in second grade
And it made me feel young

Won’t you help me sober up
Growing up it made me numb
And I want to feel something again
Won’t you help me sober up
All the big kids they are drunk
And I want to feel something again
Won’t you help me feel something again
How’s it go again?

Goodbye, goodbye
I said to my bestest buds
We said that we’d keep in touch
And we did our best.

All my new friends
We smiled at party time,
But soon we forgot to smile
At anything else.

My favorite color is you.
You’re vibrating out my frequency.
My favorite color is you,
You keep me young and that’s how I wanna be.
My favorite color is you.
You’re vibrating out my frequency.
My favorite color is you,
You keep me young and that’s how I wanna be

Hello, hello
I’m not where I’m supposed to be,
I hope that you’re missing me
‘Cuz it makes me feel young.

Hello, hello
Last time that I saw your face
Was recess in second grade,
And it made me feel young.

And I wanna feel something again.
I just wanna feel something again.
How’s it go again?

– aJr



the force generated by a person’s actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person’s next existence,

a characteristic emanation, aura, or spirit that infuses or vitalizes someone or something.


Schitt’s Creek: You’re Welcome.

“You might want to rethink the nightgown first.

There’s a whole ‘Ebenezer Scrooge‘ thing happening.”

– David Rose, Schitt’s Creek

Schitt’s Creek: You’re Welcome.

27 Chapter Titles Worth A Read. Maybe.

“Reality provides us with facts so romantic that imagination itself could add nothing to them.”

– Ascribed to Jules Gabriel Verne, 1828-1905

I have piles of stories/blogs/books/articles that I’ve written, and I want to share, really I do….but I never know if a piece is grammatically correct, in the right tone or worthy enough to publish.Hell, maybe my chapters wouldn’t interest anyone, who knows. I’ve made a brief (yet crucial) list and each title below represents a chapter in my adventure book. Maybe it’s a memoir or auto-bio but I lack all confidence and I know I’m terrified I’ll fuck it up for sure.

Remember That One Time?

The Chapters:

  1. That One Time When I was Born
  2. That One Time I Hated my Creators (aka the ‘rents)
  3. That One Time I went to Mexico
  4. That One Time I Had to Change Schools
  5. That One Time I Was So Fat
  6. That One Time When I Was Gay
  7. Those Many Times of Mania That I Didn’t Know were Mania
  8. Too Many Times of Debilitating Depression
  9. That One Time We Had a Foreclosure (and a Repossession, or Two. And Bankruptcy. Twice. Three Times.)
  10. That One Time I Went to Jail
  11. That One Time I Learned I Hated Most Men
  12. That One Time My Husband Went to Jail
  13. One of Those Times I Got Pregnant
  14. That One Time I Had 55 Jobs
  15. That One Time My Husband Had a Stroke
  16. That One Time I Went to College (or a few times)
  17. That One Time I Was Locked Up (a few other times, too)
  18. That One Time I Didn’t think I Needed Medicine
  19. That One Time We Moved to Minnesota
  20. That One Time My Husband Had a Stroke
  21. That One Time We Rescued Stella and Zander Died
  22. That One Time I Did a Bunch of Drugs
  23. For All Those Times I Lost Friends
  24. That One Time I Had to Apply For (and Accept) SSD
  25. The Time I Sent the First Kid to College
  26. That One Time My Friend Was Shot by a Police Officer Leaving Him Paralyzed
  27. For All Those Times I Didn’t Mention…

Not Exhaustive

Quite the list, eh? Yes, it’s sure to make a must-read book someday. Right? I’m almost 100% sure an editor will rip it to shreds and try to have me committed, but I really have nothing to lose. Except pride.

And respect.



You know, the normal shit.

– jen.

“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.”


-Josephine Hart (1991), Damage


“The reason that fiction is more interesting than any other form of literature, to those who really like to study people, is that in fiction the author can really tell the truth without humiliating himself.”

– (attributed to) Eleanor Roosevelt

What Do Ya Want From Me?

Our garage has always served as my “office” or as the children claim, “where mom goes when she needs a time out.”

What Do Ya Want From Me?
  • Anathema
  • Kitchen Sink
  • Lane Boy
  • HeavyDirtySoul
  • Migraine
  • Addict With A Pen
  • Car Radio
  • Jumpsuit
  • Holding on to You
  • Fairly Local
  • Guns for Hands
  • Smithereens
  • The Run and Go
  • Slowtown
  • My Blood
  • Semi-Automatic
  • Trees…

Can’t remember why I thought I could make a list of my faves. There’s a start, enjoy!

“I know we’ve made it this far, kid.”

Now what?


What I Didn’t Have the Heart to Say Yesterday.

“Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.”

-Oscar Wilde (1893), A Woman of No Importance


With yesterday being Father’s Day I couldn’t find it in my heart to tell my dad why I was missing Father’s Day lunch with him and the rest of the family. Instead, I wrote him a letter that I’ll never have the guts to give him. This is just therapy in it’s twisted form.


Dear Dad,

It hurts my heart to write you, but history proves face to face talks don’t work out too well between you, Mom and me. I don’t want this to be an “uglier” situation than it already is so I’ve decided to write it all out and give you a few explanations in writing. These are explanations as to why I don’t really want to be around my family and my children and husband feel the same.

I’ve been treated as the black sheep for too long and hopefully you believe I deserve more – better. Recently, I’ve learned a few things that happened last year when the kids stayed with you and mom a few times. I need to address these conversations and I’ll try my damndest to contain the anger.

What you and my mother have said or asked or done to my children is unacceptable, almost as if you deliberately meant to hurt me and my marriage at its weakest. Unaware that our kids were faced with question after question of how their home life is, we assumed you honestly wanted to get to know them and give us a break. I couldn’t believe my ears! If you have acted based on things you’ve heard from our estranged oldest, that’s your first mistake. D and I have realized she is much more like her biological mother than we originally thought. Believing some of the things that she’s said is insulting to your daughter – and I may never be able to forgive that.

You may laugh that I would even mention forgiveness but yes, you need forgiving! The fact that my nephew has been told some things by you, Mom or his parents, is disgusting and I don’t know how you people sleep at night knowing you’ve created this make-believe monster in your only daughter. Do you really believe that I am as manipulative or worse than your wife? Do you really believe that I tell any lies? And if so, why in all hell would I have anything to lie about?? What could I possibly gain from lying to anyone about any damn thing? I’m a grown ass adult and I assure you, lying is the furthest from my mind if I need to explain anything to anyone. You may have confused me with your oldest son and/or wife, but it stops now. I simply will not see you or have a thing to do with you if you continue to believe such shit, excuse the language.

My brother has become you and both of you have forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager and young adult. Why are you hell bent on making marijuana the devil when driving less than 2 hours away makes it a legal (and far better) option? The kids see that hypocrisy and laugh. Weed isn’t what it used to be and it’s not taboo. Alcohol and  cigarettes are far worse with much higher consequences than marijuana has ever had – that’s just fact, Dad. Wish you were more educated on the topic, but I no longer have time or energy to work with such closed-minded people.

Our kids have felt the effects of you and mom disappearing from their lives. They’re smart kids, as you know, but you have made fools out of yourselves by trying to pit them against their parents. I’m sorry but our kids are raised differently, and the love truly is unconditional. They ARE a product of their environment.

I cannot believe it took me so long to write this all out and see it for what it is in front of me. It’s pathetic. I’m tired of showing up for “family” dinner to be made fun of, talked about or insulted behind our backs. Well, you don’t have to worry about the “fucking circus” any more.

Did you think that what you say won’t get back to me? If so, that’s sad that you believe I am as you think. I thought you were better than this and more importantly, I thought you were past all the bullshit. I thought you had accepted our differences but were still thankful I decided to let you be part of our lives. Ha! You are right about one certain thing: I sure am gullible.

I cannot be considered part of this broken family. I cannot let my kids see that your behavior is acceptable not just as parents, but also as grandparents. Tell me something: did you grill Taylor and Colton at my kids’ ages about their parents and what they do or say? Did your bear cubs go through what my kids have? You act like everything you’ve imagined up about me and my family is fact or truth when, you don’t know a thing about us. Christ, for all the times you left our mother, for all the “breaks” you’ve needed, you have NEVER apologized for anything you said to me that you shouldn’t have said. I remember things too Dad. Not much but enough to make me sick.

I was raised differently than the boys. I didn’t get a chance to get to know my parents because they were always yelling at me, threatening me, or grounding me. I didn’t do a damn thing right. I didn’t do a damn thing they wanted me to do and because of that, I am their black sheep. Believe or not, I am not the only one who knows and see this – the people that see it ask me why this letter has taken me so long. I’ve tried and I’m tired of being the failure.

Take care and as always, love you.



It would be just like me to take this “working” thing so seriously. If you only knew how long it takes me to write one post. Because, detail-oriented like a mo-fo. I won’t post just any old thing. I have to plan it out, find the right images that match my content, worry about anonymity, and then decide if I want to publicize. Ultimately, this leads to numerous drafts that are never posted. 

Why I Wait

It would be so easy to just say fuck it and post everything as is. Why it’s so hard for me to do, I don’t exactly know. Maybe it’s because I think this will be something great one day and I am a perfectionist in my mind. 

A Couple of the WORST Ever.

There are few things I hate more than watching a horrible mess of a movie. Not only do you waste 2 hours of your time that you’ll never get back but you almost feel robbed by the time the credits roll.

A Couple of the WORST Ever.

That One Time He Really Left

Sometimes you have to be apart from the people you love, that doesn’t make you love them less. Sometimes you love them more.

Not sure what I was thinking telling him for the millionith time to just leave, but for whatever reason this was the time he decided to go. So I can sit here and cry and feel sorry for myself for something I told him to do, or I can start to purge. Heal. Mourn.


8:46 from the GOAT

When my daughter sent me this video, I tossed it aside until I could really listen to Mr. Chappelle’s message. His words profoundly resonated with me.

8:46 from the GOAT