Broken

“Shut up and get in the fucking car!” shouted her husband out of the car window as she stood on the curb.

She stopped arguing with her son for a moment to catch a glimpse of her husband sitting in the car. She mumbled, “I’ll leave one day. I’ll go somewhere where I’m wanted and loved,” as she was getting in the car.

“No one loves you,” mumbled her son.

She sat in the front seat of the car looking out the passenger window. She silently cried all the way home. She was not mad at her husband as much as she was at her son. He might have not meant it, but her whole life she had felt that way. Teenagers are supposed to push our buttons, but this was more like a nuclear launch.

Lexy had always felt like a piece of shit on one wanted. It could be because her mother always reminder her how she attempted three homemade abortions to kill her, but failed. Her mother found out she was pregnant at four months gestation and was unable to qualify for a medical abortion, so instead they were both cursed for a life a misery.

Back home, her son went upstairs to play on the computer. Her husband sat in the living room watching golf. Lexy went to sit outside on the back porch stairs. She tried silent tears till they stopped flowing. She always knew raising a son without his natural father would be difficult, but not personal. It did not help that his stepfather had a short temper. Lexy and her son were broken but wouldn’t be for long.

Going Shopping

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m making a budget.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m broke.”

“Oh, ok. Do you want to go swimming after?”

“No, I’m busy.”

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m going shopping.”

“I thought you said you were broke.”

“Duhhh..”

“Then why are you going shopping?”

“Because, I need to.”

“Oh, ok. Whatcha buying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Whatcha need?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you going shopping?”

“Because I need to.”

“That’s stupid. Why don’t you just go swimming with me?”

“Because I need to go shopping and get new stuff.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Noooo, you’re stupid swimming on a weekend with in the heat when you could be shopping.”

“But I don’t have any money to shop!”

“That’s because you need to do a budget!”

 

 

Hard-on in the pool

“Did you cause a man to have a hard-on in the pool?”

“What? No, gross.”

“I beg to differ. We caught a man jacking off in the locker room.” I had to send two of my best lifeguards in there to stop him.

“Well, it’s not my fault.”

“Then why is his wife saying different. She said she saw you swim up to her husband at the deep end of pool. Over there in the corner in the lap swim lane with your top hanging off.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Lady, we don’t do this here. This is a public pool for children and families.”

“Listen, listen, it’s not what you think.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“What? Why?”

“For turning tricks in my pool.”

“No! You’ve got it wrong. Really, I probably did that poor old man a favor. Look at him. He’s what 50 plus, bald, with a belly. Look at his wife! She is in a scooter, or Walmart mobile. I was just fucking swimming.”

“Hey, there’s children no cussing.”

“They are fucking in the pool. We are inside this whatever you call this of an office that smells like dirty feet.”

“Respect me and the lifeguard office. I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t call the Po-Po. Listen, just listen. I think you will laugh. I usually swim laps every weekend and a wear a pathetic one piece with a little skirt around it.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Everything, ok. Now shut up so I can tell you my story. I got tired my of 50’s style fat lady suit, so I bought this cheap flimsy bikini in Large. How was I to know that my 5 foot tall size 36B tits would pop out of them?”

“Enough”

“Shhhhh, I got to the other side of the pool and I ask that old man with a ring on his fat harry finger to fix my suit. I thought it was a failsafe. I could’ve asked any of those Army guys to help me, but noooo. I looked for the most asexual creature in the pool and asked. I really didn’t come on to him, and I am sorry about his dick. It’s not my fault.”

“Language lady”

“Yeah, yeah, so you see it was not my intention. I don’t do things like that you know. I go to church. I am married too.”

“You’re off the hook this time, but next time ask a lifeguard. That’s what we are here for.”

“Got it.”

 

20150125_182647

What is love?

Love has many meanings. It can the pride a mother has for a child. It the strong physical and emotional bond between baby and mother. It is the beauty in a flower, sunset, mountain tops or dress. Love can also be the euphoria of tingle when a puppy nestles up under your neck.

Love is the desire to want to know more about someone. To stay up and talk all night. To read the books they love, listen to the music they enjoy. Watch the movies they like. It is looking forward to celebrating their birthday with them. It can be wanting that person to succeed so much that you are willing to sacrifice all for them.

Love can be the tenderness of the familiar. The sight of home. The comfort in your favorite chair after a long day. It can be the excitement after receiving a long desired gift.

Love can be touch. It is the bond of a child nursing on a mother. Love can be a hug from a teacher, pastor, friend, father, mother, sibling, or spouse. Love is the tenderness of ones lips touching your own. Love is physical. It is soft. Love is gentle never aggressive.

Love is respect, care, kindness, sadness, curiosity, happiness, tears of loneliness, tears of happiness, touch and desire to want to know all about the one you love.

When you no longer care to understand the other person. You no longer want to touch, kiss, or hug love is missing. Love that hurts is love that is gone. Love can only be taken away by betrayal.

There are many types of betrayal. The most popular sexual cheating, emotional cheating, drugs, alcohol abuse, lying, physical abuse, gambling, shopaholics, sabotage, and deceit. Betrayal can come from your lover, mother, father, uncle, aunt, grandmother, grandfather, teacher, doctor, friend, pastor, enemy, or more.

What if your lover is smart, has a great job, goes to church, comes home every night, and takes care of you, but constantly betrays you? Maybe your love for that person is so strong that you stay with that person no matter how often they betray you, even if they do it every single day.

Betrayal is the only thing that can poison your love for another. When one betrays you so much that your own self-worth is destroyed it is time to find a new love, a love for yourself.

Love for yourself is the greatest love of all. Be kind and gentle to yourself. Learn about yourself. Care for yourself. Celebrate yourself. Most of all, no matter how many people betray you, never betray yourself. You are one of a kind. Your love should be one of kind too.

Almost reached 10% Goal for camp fundraiser

<p> We have all heard, “Ask and you shall receive.”</p><p>There are financial hard times all artist can relate to. Those times can be when you have desire to attain a new skill, new aid (camera, paints, computer) to improve your craft and take your talent to the next level, but just can not afford to make it happen. We all know life throws us all curve balls and being able to purchase that class, instruction, camera, computer seems like an unattainable goals. I am writing today, because as a mom and creative person I have born a creative son. He wants so badly to go to a summer camp that is just above my means. I have started a fundraiser to attempt to raise the money needed to send him to that next level.

http://www.gofundme.com/leot04

Your donation of only $1 or $2 can make the dreams of a grown boy come true.</p><p>Thanks,</p><p>Jennifer <br /><br /><br /></p>

0e93be8f054d3e4b12fb76429cfca72f.0

The dog that bit the shit out of me

It took time to get to where we were.

Molly, our 17 year old senior dog, was depressed. She laid in bed all day, she would wet in bed. She refused to eat and would bite us if we wanted to give her attention. Life was bad for Molly. The breaking point for Molly was one night I step in the kitchen where she stood with pee all around her. I bent over to tell her no with my finger pointing and shaking it at her muzzle.

Molly could take no more. Whatever reason it was, Molly saw that finger as an opportunity. She watched it like it was prime rib flapping before her chops. That was the moment in a instance that senior dog jumped up and latched on to my finger like a tick on fat warm skin. I yelp, “Help!” I wiggled. I shook my arm up and down and that dog went up and down with my finger holding on for dear life. “Fuck’n shit! Help me!” I cried. The first one down the stairs was my Spanish speaking mother-in-law in her see through pajamas without a bra.

“Javi! Fucking help me!” My mother-in-law stood there with her hands over her mouth. I was still standing in dog piss as my dog hung from my finger. My husband finally came running down stairs to see me crying. My face red. The dog and I both wet from the piss splashing every time I lowered my arm to shake her off.

Javi ran to Molly and picked up her body to where it was level with my finger and she released the grip she had. My finger was torn just a little. The problem was part of her tooth broke off into the skin.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“What the fuck did you do to that dog?”

“Molly? Now you care more about Molly than me?”

“You had to do something.”

“Yeah, I did. I told her no. She peed on the floor and I’m tired of it. I said bad dog and shook my finger at her.”

“Well, don’t. Let her do what she wants. She’s a dog. She’s old. Leave her alone.”

“No. I’m sick and tired of everyone in this house doing what they want. For once I want her to pee outside.”

The blood from my finger was all over my arm. Tears down my face. “You don’t give a shit about me. Look at this blood. There is something in my fucking finger and you’re yelling at me.”

To be continued……

We almost reached 10% of goal

We have all heard, “Ask and you shall receive.”
There are financial hard times all artist can relate to. Those times can be when you have desire to attain a new skill, new aid (camera, paints, computer) to improve your craft and take your talent to the next level, but just can not afford to make it happen. We all know life throws us all curve balls and being able to purchase that class, instruction, camera, computer seems like an unattainable goals. I am writing today, because as a mom and creative person I have born a creative son. He wants so badly to go to a summer camp that is just above my means. I have started a fundraiser to attempt to raise the money needed to send him to that next level.

http://www.gofundme.com/7ukg8c

Your donation of only $1 or $2 can make the dreams of a boy come true!

Son wants to go to camp

 We have all heard, “Ask and you shall receive.”

There are financial hard times all artist can relate to. Those times can be when you have desire to attain a new skill, new aid (camera, paints, computer) to improve your craft and take your talent to the next level, but just can not afford to make it happen. We all know life throws us all curve balls and being able to purchase that class, instruction, camera, computer seems like an unattainable goals. I am writing today, because as a mom and creative person I have born a creative son. He wants so badly to go to a summer camp that is just above my means. I have started a fundraiser to attempt to raise the money needed to send him to that next level. 

http://www.gofundme.com/7ukg8c

You donation of only $1 or $2 can make the dreams of a grown boy come true.

Thanks,

Jennifer 

021 2

Coming or Going??

The year is over, well almost over. Thank you!

The year was long, full of blessings, bitches, changes and illness and recovery. The entire year, I could not tell if I was coming or going from my goals. Hmm…

Well, 2013 was my year to stop blogging and start working a 40 hour a week job. A job which I learned so many things and grew from, but at the same time made me worry day by day if I was coming up in the world or going from the world of creativity.

The one constant in my life was doubt. I doubted everyday with intense worry. I wanted to know, if I was coming into the woman I wanted to be for my family, or was I going from my dreams.

The truth of the matter is the core to my change resonated with the change of duty station with my military spouse. “Don’t shake your head at me. I can see you.  You are reading this and thinking, another winey military wife.”

The truth is, I might just be all of that, but I am so much more. Let me start again. I moved to Oklahoma to find a great job opportunity. I left behind wonderful friends.  I have met wonderful and awful people though networking. I have found my value. Yes, in the real estate world, I am worth less than $2,000 anything over and my former newly found good friend threw me under the bus for. Yes, we are no longer friends. I could understand being thrown under a bus or sold out for a mere $10,000, but $2,000 she can take a walk.

Now, back to my coming or going theory. I moved, I got a job, lost friends,  made friends,  made enemies,  loved, got sick and yes, I was loved. Deep down inside, I was sad. I don’t mean the sad that I ruined a great pair of jeans or snagged a fantastic sweater. No, I was sad. I missed the fundamentals of blogging daily. I loved the patting sound of my finders across the keyboard of my laptop as I created stories. I enjoyed the characters, the humor, the sadness and reading the comments. What I missed was the community that I had found here in the blogosphere. I created this blog many years ago in hopes to meet an agent or publishers, but believe it or not I have met both. I had a wonderful year full of promises, but when it came to my craft. I fucked it all up. I did nothing. I worked vigilantly in my new job, but let my art sit by my waist side. The shame, the pity, the WTF feelings I carried day to day made it harder and harder to write as each new day came, so I did NOTHING.

What? You want to know about meeting the publisher and agent.  Ok. Ok.

Well, I met with the publisher, Steve from ICE CUBE Press. He was funny, intelligent and asked for my work. I have not heard anything at this time, but it was a great experience. I can only hope for the best.

Yes, I will tell you about the agents too. Yes, that is plural.

I met with one that I really thought would hate me. She was one of those beautiful model looking agents from one of those larger literary agencies in New York. I was nervous. I was sick at my stomach (which later I learned I was literally sick at my stomach). I sat down and she looked at me and said, “Are you going to start your pitch?”

I shook my head no. Then I began, “I don’t know why the fuck I am here. You see, I suck. I wrote something, but it truly sucks and maybe we can talk about something else.” That was when our conversation really took off and she gave me her contact information. You could then assume I ran home and sent out anything to her right away, but no…  I did NOTHING!

As for the other agent, well that will just have to be another blog in 2014.

I could go on about questioning how I wonder if was coming or going towards my life goals but that shit would have you drinking shots in no time. I could also tell you how I am going to jump out of my stupor and whip my own ass and take charge of my future, but that would be a lie. Instead, I am just going to make no promises and try to make sure that in 2014 I just stay true to myself and hope each day I am going towards my future.

 

Happy New Year’s to you all!

Top 10 things you should never do at a writer’s conference

  1. Arrive late and ask, “Did they really start without me?”
  2. Walk up to the first person that smiles at you and hand them your business card and say, “Here’s my card. I’m a fabulous writer.”  Later you find out the man you handed the card to was a publisher.
  3. Walk up to the front of the room to get the instructions for getting online, so the guest speaker has to search for it. “Excuse me, can I please have my guide for starting this presentation?”
  4. Humming hymns, songs, lullabies in class. (This is not song writing 101!)
  5. Try to sell your unpublished novel to someone so you can buy a cup of coffee.
  6. Sit in the front of the class with your hearing aid on your lap and start yelling, “I can’t hear you! Speak up!”
  7. Sign up to pitch your script with the agent that says, “I don’t like women’s fiction. I don’t like women’s nonfiction. I don’t like women.”
  8. Tell the guy sitting by you, “I’m not just funny looking, I’m also a funny writer.”
  9. Listen to the creepy old guy who keeps asking you to put ice down your shirt.
  10. Tell the agent you are pitching your manuscript to, “This is normally my nap time. I’m just going to tell you the truth my novels sucks, it’s broken and stupid.”