People. Hermit crabs. I want to be a hermit crab.


So wow. It’s um.. June. Apparently I’ve slacked off on the blog, but I’ve been keeping busy in my physical journals, so it’s all good. Honestly, I’ve been struggling with writer’s block for the last few months, and I can’t seem to break through. Most of my journaling has become diary-esque entries, just to empty my brain.

I haven’t really wanted to write anything political on here. Well, because it’s too easy. Has anyone seen the state of our government or current administration? Red or Blue, it’s basically a shit show, and nothing I say is going to change anything at the moment anyway. I’ve stuck to picking fights on facebook posts to amuse my political side.

Other than that, everything is pretty good. Jon’s daughter is here for the summer, she’s a few years younger than Noodle, but they get along well enough. No blood has been shed anyway, and they both have someone to play with if they want. Definitely a cool little squirt though, can see a lot of her Dad in her. Although there is some issues with her mother, Jon’s been trying to get a hold of her about some things he wants to discuss regarding their child, and she hasn’t been answering for almost a month now. I’m willing to bet that this is going to go the same way my past relationships have re: lazy baby mamas. Joy. Whatever though, thanks to the last two major relationships, I have enough experiences with boyfriend’s exes to tide me over for a lifetime and a half.

Jon is home for the summer too, switching jobs currently, looking at working at a local PD. So while he tests/trains for that, he gets to hang with the kids (which is also a bonus because we avoid childcare then). Plus, I think it’d be nice for him to get to spend the summer with his squirt, who knows what shift he’ll be working next.

However, with the kids being home all summer, I’m definitely not minding going into work nearly as much as I normally do.

I jest.

Kind of.

Beyond that, the garden is in and thriving. We’ve got 3 different pepper plants (one of which is bearing fruit), 4 different tomato plants (including, cherry, roma and an heirloom). 2 different kinds of lettuce, carrots, green onions, green beans, cucumbers.. and my blueberry bushes are actually producing this year! I’m thrilled.

My health is actually okay. I still have some bad days with the headaches, crohns and IST, but it’s much more manageable now. When I have a flare up or episode, it’s more of an annoyance instead of a do-not-pass-go-do-not-collect-$200-go-straight-to-bed.

Noodle is doing great too! 10 years old now, she just had a birthday a couple weeks ago and a family party at the house. Spoiled kid got even more spoiled. She’s been having fun this year riding her bicycle and little dirtbike, now she’s got roller blades to learn. She’s definitely growing up so fast, and I’m more than proud of the lady she’s growing into.

Well other than all of that nonsense, it’s business as usual here. Thought I’d pop in and write a little. Hope everyone is having a great summer.




Written Word.


My pen has been scraping across paper for the last 4 to 5 days. There’s nothing more glorious than when you break through a block and you can watch the words pour out of your fingertips. 

Maybe its the season? Every autumn I reminisce and reevaluate. Something about leaves falling, wood smoke, and chilly nights just does it for me. My journal, gifted to me by a friend, has lost at least 20 pages. Sitting by the fire, just emptying my mind as the smoke curls up into the night air. Whether its a hot cup of coffee with cream, or a cold beer, I’m there.. writing. 

On the off chance that rain is falling from the sky, I’ve found myself laying on the cold kitchen floor. The tinny sound of the rain coming through the windows and the snores of my child, finds me on my stomach with my coffee and stack of books. It’s a habit from my younger years, the cold tile, the hot coffee, and my journals, sketch book and scraps I’ve written on spread around me. It’s simular to the chaos of my thoughts, beating against my brain to layout on paper. 

It doesn’t matter where the thoughts turn. I write everything. Sometimes I’ll use a separate journal to put the more chaotic words. The raw emotion that seems to come out of nowhere, splashes across the pages. I don’t know where it comes from, but suddenly I’m drowning in it. Desperation, loneliness, emotional pain and fear. Love, gratitude, hope, appreciation. It just comes, and the only way it will leave is through my fingers. 

So the words have been coming, I hope they keep on burning thier way out. Its the best physical sensation to just pour out my mind.. and know theres that much more. 

Because I can


Sometimes my brain gets all screwy.  My thoughts jump all over the place and my anxiety tries to strangle me.  Sometimes I get down and can’t really pinpoint the exact reason.  Maybe it’s the weather, the lack of sunlight now that it’s November?  Maybe a lack of sleep or getting up too early after going to bed too late?  I don’t know what it is, but my brain is definitely mixed up today.

I’m still having a hard time with writing, and I think that’s the root of this funk I’m in.  Usually writing is my cure all.  Feeling anxious today?  Write.  Feeling down in the dumps?  Write.  Overwhelmed?  Let’s write!  Furious?  Scribble a bunch and then write.  Happy?  Must write.  Lately though?  I get that urge to write,  I’ll sit down with my journal and as sooooooon as that pen hits the paper, the coherent thought is gone.  The train just derails and not only does it crash, it takes out the entire city of Logic while it’s at it.

So that’s the start of it.  My brain is screwy because I haven’t been able to write.

Writers block.  Isn’t that what they call it?  I call it bullshit.  I’ve never had an issue with writing for this long.  I’ll even admit the last few blogs (however long ago I posted them) are pretty much just crap.  Just crap to have something to post on this pathetic site.  At least there would be something up right?  Yuck.  I quit that.  Ya’ll can just deal with nothing.  It’s better than posting stuff that I had to force my fingers to write.

So seeing as how I just spent 10 minutes trying to find some way to transfer what’s in my head to my fingers… I quit.  Maybe they’ll be better luck tomorrow.  Or with a physical journal.

Writer’s Block and Assorted Rants


Sometimes my fingers itch to write so bad but there’s nothing there.  I’ll have so many ideas throughout the day, but as soon as I sit down, pick up my pen, open my book, my brain goes dead.  All I can think is “I have to remember to start the dishwasher tonight” or “Thumbs needs a brushing again” or even worse, “Dora Dora DORA the EXPLORER!”

That last one makes me want to put my head through my laptop.

Then set myself on fire.

Writer’s block is part of my cycle.  I have days where I could write all day and I fill my journal and books with all sorts of nonsense.  The blogs get published and the ideas keep coming.  Then eventually the cycle dies off and I’m brain dead again.  Stress has a huge role in it.  If I’m really busy at work, mentally anyway, or have a specifically trying day with the kiddo or whatever it may be, the less of an ability I have to make my pen move.  When I have a bad day, of course there is a ton of shit to write about, but just regular mental stress, work whatever, nothing.  Static.

Those are days where I doubt myself.  Where I ask if I really want to continue my feebile attempts at this book.   Maybe I should just close down my domain name and let that damn shoe company have it.  (Ha, nope! I’d keep this shit funded just because.) Maybe, when I’m dead and gone, my daughter, my husband, my grandkids won’t give a shit about these journals and notebooks.

Of course I won’t stop writing though, I know well enough after all of these years that writing keeps me alive.  Writing keeps me sane.



So here’s to writer’s block.  Cheers.