Blog

On Monday 10/19 we lost our beloved doggo Fatty. He developed a perineal hernia and would have required a surgery to save his life but would only be temporary. We made the painful choice of putting him down.

He was the bestest of best good boys. He was almost human in his expressions. You could have a full conversation with him, even an argument. He was the most amazing dog I have ever known and it was a blessing to have had him as part of our family for almost 12 years.

I imagine him running free and chasing animals, never stopped by a fence, never controlled by a human. Absolute freedom for his spirit which refused to be tamed. There will never be another like him and his presence is deeply missed.

He was laid to rest in his favorite sunny patch in the backyard.

First of all, I am not going to kill myself. I know that’s a morbid title so I just want it out of the way.

So yesterday was Valentine’s Day, the stupidest holiday of the year. I have been single for a really long time, mostly by choice, a little because the pickins is slim. I avoid all the fake, bullshit romantic garbage that the day brings for MOST of the day. By the end of the day though, man it hits home that I have been single for a really long fucking time. 18 years?! Since my youngest was 10 months old, that’s a really long time to be alone.

That’s not to say I haven’t tried here and there. I have had some wonderful days spent with some interesting guys. A few were put into rotation, more still were just for the moment. Out of all of them, dozens of them (don’t judge me ffs I let my freak flag fly high and proud), do you know how many were actually single??? THREE y’all, FUCKING 3! I was none the wiser until after the fact with the exception of one ongoing, drawn out, off and on, affair (gag).

So that brings us to last night when, after a whole day of not giving a shit, I got in my car after work and the events of the day hit me so hard. I had done something so stupid because I am a “nice person” and a total doormat. What had the lady done you may wonder? Oh I will tell you. The affair has been going on, and off, for a decade. He lives with a woman, they have kids. She is nothing like me. I am an angry, angsty, proud leftist who will not hesitate to tell you to fuck off. She fucking goes by Sparkle. See? Different. He lied to me about her and their life for years, and me being the trusting person I am, believed it. Every last lie. Convincing myself that even though it was a bunch of lies there must have been some bit of truth to it. But after I found out, after I confirmed it I tried to stop, there were more lies of course, it would ebb and flow, there was a friendship there, blah blah blah. It’s a reminder of just how stupid I am most of the time.

We all live in the same town, I was fucking here first, so they encroached onto my hood. Yesterday morning he told me they didn’t have water and he was waiting for the plumber to come check the well. He asked if he could come shower at my house if this was gonna be a long fix. I said sure. I wouldn’t be there so I didn’t care. he knows how to get in so whatever right? Do you see where this is going? I was the side chick letting the idiot have a shower at my place so he could be clean for Valentine’s day with the fulltime, live in chick. TON of bricks dropping on my head.

So while I sat there stewing in my anger at myself, I started thinking about what would be would be fun for my funeral. I started writing, in the third person lol, a long list of things about me most people don’t know and all the reasons they don’t know the things. Half way through i switched to first person. One or all three of my kids can take turns reading it OR they can have it printed in the program. I just want to make people uncomfortable and then I want them to laugh. So here it is, what I tapped out on my phone in 10 minutes.

Things I want to talk about when I’m dead…

So she’s died. There lies Jessica. Friend to very few, mom to 3, sister to two. Her biggest regret in life was that she accomplished nothing.

She spent the majority of her life deeply depressed and lonely. She struggled to connect in any real way with other people. She was often quiet and reserved as an adult because she was belittled and bullied as a child.

She had so much to say but found so few to listen.
She often wanted to flee this shithole country that shit on her when she was down, which was often. She carried the shame society heaped on her for being poor, or a single mother, or not traditionally educated around with her and tried make others experiencing those things feel heard and cared for.

She was impatient as fuck.

She believed in efficiency, lists, post-its, technology, and all the science. She never completed a to-do list…

She saw the way the world should be and could not understand why others lacked the humanity to also see it. It infuriated her.

She did not believe in god. So there had best not be any Jesus at this thing. My children would never do that to me.

She was NEVER a proud American.
She was a proud leftist and mother to little leftists. She was grateful to live through the Trump presidency but was disappointed he was replaced with yet another old white dude.

She believed that class was the thing often overlooked in our society.

She hated most white people. If you’re a white people and here, you were probably okay in her book.

She had trouble sleeping most of her life and was concerned this was due to a psychiatric condition but it was more likely due to never being brave enough to say all the things during the day so those things kept her up at night.

She did not know how to relax. If she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t relaxed, she was paralyzed and couldn’t function.

She loved TikTok but was always to nervous to comment or post any videos saying her piece.

She was mentally unstable and pretty open about that. Her mind raced all day, everyday, trying to think of new things to stimulate her curiosity. The next rabbit hole to go down. the next article or book to read. She couldn’t sit still long enough to read a book by the time she hit 38 so if you’re looking for a bunch of half read books in excellent condition, there will be a giveaway if the kids got it together.

Her racing mind often made it hard for her to communicate. Moments into a conversation her mind had sprinted to the next topic. Is she sorry about that? Who knows, she’s dead now.

In her kitchen, she was larger than life. She would cook enough to feed a small army and always regretted not having a deep freezer. She is actually writing this, so let’s switch to 1st person!

My favorite font was Georgia, which this is in.

I loved to bake and if I baked you a treat it meant I loved you. Same for a meal or sharing my food.

A lot of people have seen my boobs, it’s cool though because they are fantastic.

I loved to write things and I started writing these last words on 2/14/22.
I thought it would be funny and cathartic. I have recently been battling through one of my deepest episodes of depression which is probably related to perimenopause. I, only half jokingly, threatened to walk into traffic recently but was angry it was moving too slowly to do any actual harm.

I loved my children. I know I didn’t always give them the life they deserved but I tried to make the most of our limited means and time. They were the only people, as of this writing, to truly stir my soul. I wish I had been more present with them but I was always so sad and desperately chasing dopamine and serotonin and overwhelmed and scared that I couldn’t fully enjoy the joy it was to be their mother. I guess that is also a regret.

As of this writing, I have never been truly loved by another person. I have loved many people but they always hurt me deeply. I gave up on any romantic attempts at 40 and desperately tried to love myself but I found myself lacking. So that probably explains a lot. I have been hurt so deeply by so many and I wish I knew what is was I did and in which life I did it to have deserved all the lies. What was it about me that made me such an easy target? I hope I found out before I died but if I didn’t, jot a note asshole so that other women can be warned. Please also note that if this part made you uncomfortable then you are an asshole and should probably unpack some shit with a therapist.

The only place I ever wanted to be was in Maine. I craved solitude and quiet most of my life. Hopefully I made it there.

I never met a dog I didn’t like, a body of water I didn’t want to sit by, a shaded path I didn’t want to walk down, and a flower I didn’t admire. I saw beauty in almost everything.

Even though I was the pastiest bitch to ever walk the earth, I loved sitting in the sun.

I loved buildings, but preferred them to be older and full of character. I could feel their history as I walked through them. I saw every holiday and family dinner. I saw joy and sorrow. I felt the old footsteps and wanted nothing more than to give a family back what they had lost. But that doesn’t make anyone money, and in life, in capitalism, profits matter more than people. Even though we are real and money is a bullshit, invented concept that forces us into greed and never forces us to closer to our own humanity.
I never wanted to be rich. I often talked about what I’d do if I ever won the lottery, which I never played. I would find a way to give most of that money back to the poor and the marginalized. Not through some shitty policy that made old, rich, white people feel good, even when it failed, but in actual things that people needed. Safe, warm, affordable, healthy homes. Community gardens, childcare coops, support for education (affordable fucking education), mentors, and mental healthcare. Because it’s about class solidarity and I could never be a rich person – just a person who had more money they didn’t need.

I HATED ELON FUCKING MUSK WITH THE FIRE OF A TRILLION SUNS!

I wanted the already rich and powerful to stop thinking about how to be more rich and powerful, to stop abusing us who keep them rich and powerful, and give us our share. Eat the bloody rich.

If you’re here, tell my kids why. You probably never met them because I didn’t invite people in. Again, I had a very difficult time connecting with other humans even though I always wanted to. Don’t sugar coat it either, don’t just say I was nice. Tell them why. Because I never understood why anyone would ever want to show up. Granted, I’m sure only 5 people I am not related to are here but tell them anyway. Then join the parade, New Orleans style.

I hope the announcement included no formal wear unless it was loud, colorful, and dripping in sequins.

I hope you let people in and I hope every one of you were loved exactly how you are so when your funeral comes around, people don’t have to read a booklet to know the real you.

I do hope you enjoyed a trip to my future funeral. Until that day comes please try to be a better human to those of us who are trapped in our spiraling, unfocused brains. We are trying and we are sad and we just want to connect the dots.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg died. I cried, many times, not able to articulate why her death affected me so deeply, I just cried. The Notorious RBG is gone. She was a hero to many but labeled a political activist by others. She was not an activist, she was a jurist. She interpreted the laws of this nation and demanding they be applied equally to all citizens. That is NOT an activism. That is NOT political.

I have seen many comments, all from men, questioning her integrity and brilliance. Don’t be pissed off because a woman beat you in an argument, be pissed off that you couldn’t defend a principle that holds no merit. Be pissed off that you are too archaic to understand your grip on society is failing and you refuse to embrace change because this will be your downfall.

Women don’t want to rule society, we want equality. Why does that bother you? It really shouldn’t. We are human beings. We don’t need to be saved or protected by men, but from them. We need to be protected from religious fanatics who would like to rule our lives and make our choices, while denigrating Muslim countries for similar behavior.

I do not agree that abortion is murder simply because it is not. I will not be forced to carry another child. Not really concerned with getting pregnant these days but… Still I would get an abortion so fast your head would spin. If a thing needs a human body to maintain its existence, it is not a human and has no right to use a body against the owner of that body’s will. Plain and simple.

Perhaps women should rule society? Men have done a horrible job over the centuries. The murdering of innocent people, the enslaving of people, the whole god wants it like this patriarchy. There is no god folks. Even if there is, god is horrible. You want to believe in all that, fine, have at it enjoy your church services, but I will not be joining you.

There are many women my age unaware of what RBG accomplished in her life. Many think the mild slights are what has always been. No. The work that woman completed in her life lead the way for a woman to sit on SCOTUS. If you want your husband to be the ruler of your family, FINE. I have zero fucks to give about what you do in your house and with your family, just stop expecting others to live that way.

It’s not an attack on your religion, literally no one cares about your religion until you start cramming it down other’s throats. All while claiming the Muslims are coming for your Jesus. I can assure you they are not. The Christians are doing a good enough job sulling Jesus all by themselves.

But what do we do now? How do we fight this without our warrior justice? One day at a time, while reminding everyone that women belong in all places where decisions are being made and reminding ourselves to speak our minds, even if our voices shake.

I swear to god, this pandemic… I mean for reals what the fuck?????

I have been home now since March, almost 5 full months of BLAH. I am still working but now I just make phone calls and do shit I hate so I am looking for another job becuase I can’t do this anymore. When your job has you searching for your will to live EVERY SINGLE DAY, it is time to go. It is not the job I accepted and one all people know I hate, but here I am…

I am bored, Perhaps I should have used this time at home for good. I should have taken more walks, I should have learned a new language, I should had made things, or painted the wall I hate, or worked on my typing skills. I haven’t. I have managed to blast through MANY TV series, most of them in other languages. After one I was totally convinced I understood Finnish, I do NOT understand Finnish. I am currently doing Finnish on Duolingo. Minä olen velho!

I have fallen into a pretty deep and expansive depression. I could not tell you when I last showered or changed my clothes. I haven’t cleaned anything really. I mean the dishes are clean and the house is generally in order but my room is in disarray. I have had to cancel vacation this year while coughing up money for a new heat pump and roof. Then the realization hit that I am losing money by keeping my job because I can’t get commission for making phone calls. Meaning I am now looking for another job or a second job defeating the purpose of me not doing my regular job. I am high risk for the COVID so I am not out in the world. I think that might be bullshit but who can argue right now.

Rather than be pissy about my job, I have decided to be pissy about my personal life. I have been isolating myself to avoid confrontations with toxic people or situations. Just sinking in the depression that is my life. Avoiding the BS knowing it will just fade away. I haven’t replaced that with anything though. I am just isolated. I think I touched on this previously but who knows. No one reads this, all the comments I get are spam, and this is just for me so who cares if I already touched on something. Imma keep goin’…

I have had an on/off relationship with someone for about a decade now. Not knowing at first that he had a “committed” relationship with someone else. Didn’t find that out for a couple years. I’m not stupid, really. Just really busy with tons of shit going on and I thought it was nice to not have so much relationship pressure. Both of us had family scattered around the country, or so I thought, busy jobs, kids, responsibilities, all that shit.

Maybe 5 years ago (??? the years all run together now) I found out all the lies. I felt so stupid for not figuring it out. I never brought him to my house because of my kids. He never brought me to his because he lived with someone. Which is what I found out. There was a meltdown. There was a period of not speaking. But he was comfortable and we genuinely had a good friendship away from any of the sex stuff so we drifted back together again. Yeah, I am a horrible person. Whatever, I always said it wasn’t my karma and it fit my needs so…

Anyway, he and his family moved to my zip code a few years ago. I was so mad. Like why the hell did you have to move to my town. Yes my town has 60k people living in it but everyone goes to the same places. At least they are in the other school district her and my kids are older so that was never a concern. He didn’t understand why this bothered me so much. I had no idea who she was, what she looked like, I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t care to. My fear was that we would both end up at the Lauer’s grabbing cakes and have a funny conversation in line and I would never know it. OR She would be with all the kids, who I would recognize, and I would freak out. Because I am guilty.

My thought had been that they weren’t happy together. There was a frantic call December 2018; he needed to find a place to live. I was lead to believe, or maybe I just assumed, that this was not a happy home or relationship. Was she aware of his wandering eye? Did she know that he was carrying on multiple affairs? At some point he sought counseling, was it couples counselling? Holy shit did she know about me??? Was this all for the kids?

We saw each other less and less over the last 2 years, jobs and responsibilities had shifted, there was less time, life changed, I turned 40 with no fanfare. I think 3 people remembered my birthday that year. It’s whatever. Well it’s not but it isn’t coming back so it’s whatever. Like I said I have isolated myself. But life just got busier. I have been depressed for years now so I was also losing interest in relationships, what little interest I had.

The other morning I was taking a pause from work. My mind wandered and I realized I never did know where he lived so I did some internet searching and found the address, then her name, then I went down the rabbit hole. I knew I would regret it but I did it anyway. It took only a few minutes for me me to be all ‘what the fuck’ and send a text that I needed to not speak to him for a while.

OF COURSE he replied just seconds after I had triumphantly texted enough people to get him off my screen. He wanted to know why. Then changed his mind. But I was feeling cruel and bitter and angry with myself so I straight told him. Yeah I googled, I found you, found your life posted for all to see, and I cannot be part of this. I wasn’t that nice but I wasn’t really mean either. Just direct. And I am not mad at him, I am mad at me. I knew, I just chose to ignore it and pretend. I will have to delve into that another time though.

Why did I do this? Is it because I’m depressed? I am pretty sure that is part of it, a big part. My heart has never recovered from one loss and this was easy and convenient. It started great, such fun passion. It stayed fun and passionate for a long time. The sex was good, we had a really good friendship at the core of it. We just fit well together. I look at it all now, was any of it real? Was it all fake? When one person is lying to so many people how can you believe anything they say?

Why did I settle? Being someone’s something else is not really a good thing. I don’t want that in my life. I deserve better. This wasn’t the first time I settled for being someone’s something else. This will be the last time though. It’ so boring. There is nothing real about being the something else. The first time I was the placeholder, this time I was the side piece. Not doin’ it anymore. I’m also not going to sit here wondering anymore if any of it was real because it doesn’t matter. It was bullshit, real or not. It was toxic to my soul.

But now? I will no longer worry about running into her in town. I feel sorry for her. She has to live with him and I am pretty sure she knows, maybe not the how many and who, but we always know when things are not right. I get to walk around my house wearing the box our case of toilet paper was shipped in; no one can judge me and my kids think I’m hilarious. This is a happy home, there is love and laughter and honesty here. Along with nights talking in bad Australian accents. This home matters, it is all mine. They can have theirs.

Minä olen velho!

I am a wizard!

Being alive is a heavy burden sometimes. Many things pile upon your shoulders and we all have our struggles. I am going to say that women have it harder than men, always. The expectations of and on us are far greater. We have to be all the things and what I have learned is one cannot be all things at every moment.

Work… is stressful. I don’t want to get too into exactly what I do because most people get confused but it is construction and I genuinely love it but also it is a man’s world. Not many women do what I do and that’s cool. It is a dirty job. Some would consider elements of it dangerous, I don’t but whatever. It is demanding, mentally and emotionally. But man is it fucking cool.

It is still a man’s world though. I feel that. My boobs get in the way, A LOT. I can’t tell you how many titty bruises I’ve gotten trying to cram my ample bosom into too small a space, or how many ridiculously expensive bras I have destroyed. Nothing says women’s liberation like ripping your bra off so you can squeeze into an attic, am I right????? Boobs are not just fatty tissue, they hurt when forced into places they don’t wanna go.

I also face physical limitations. I lack the natural upper body strength of a man so I have a hard time pulling my fat ass into places. Yes, I’m 40 pounds overweight but I like to eat so that’s not changing anytime soon. I’m also not a weakling but my legs are where my strength is so I get nervous trying to pull myself up. What happens if I fall? I can’t repair a ceiling on my own so I don’t press my luck.

These things bother me. I can’t cut off my boobs, nor would I want to because they are spectacular. I have tried to increase my upper body strength but that’s not going to help me tomorrow, that takes time. I’m a woman over 40, I’m perimenopausal, I have hot flashes and mood swings, I do the best I can with what I’ve got.

At my last job I was the boss. I made the decisions, right or wrong, and I stood by them or worked through them. Where I am currently I am not the boss. I don’t really know what I am but I really like all the people I work with. But here’s the thing; I bite my tongue all the time. Like ALL the time. Some of it is out of respect, a lot of it is caused by, I don’t know, my depression? Lost my voice and all.

There was a moment last summer where I was really flailing, I have mentioned this before. A former colleague, my work Dad, asked me some good questions. The best one was why I wasn’t giving people hell. I didn’t have a good answer. I was tired, I was sad, I just wanted to hide. Was I ever a ball buster before? Was that the real me or was this the real me? Was I in over my head? What happened to me?

To be a woman in a man’s world requires grace and tact. You must never emasculate a man because they don’t respond well to that. Even the progressive ones, ones that hire you to do a man’s job. You must always smile, be polite, and not overstep into conversations that are about man things. Now I cuss like a sailor and talk shit with the best of them so I am not easily offended, but don’t ask me to make phone calls for a man, ever. Especially when that man would not make the same calls for me.

Family… is heavy.

As a single mother I have always been judged. Three kids, no father around, must be a whore. Must be living off the system, should have kept her legs closed, i bet her kids are horrible, all that shit. I have heard it all. I have almost always had a job, sometimes two. I have worked my ass off over the years. I have raised amazing humans.

I have been single for 16 years people. SIXTEEN YEARS! Do you know how hard it is to date when you can’t afford a babysitter? And when you do go out you’re judged by your ex and his family (even though you only go out when your kids are with them) for being selfish and not taking care of the kids. Totally okay for the other parent to rarely see the kids but you go out when that other parent has the kids and you’re the selfish one.

Now, my kids are 22, 18, and (next week!) 17. I have been single for SIXTEEN fucking years. I get asked all the time why I am single. Well, I kinda missed the window. I have now been single for so long that i don’t think i could tolerate being in a relationship, this too makes me selfish. But I don’t care because I am selfish on my terms. If I want to paint the walls, redo the floors, change this or that, I don’t need to consult with anyone else. My house, my money, my choices. It is awesome. It is all about me in this house and I don’t give a fuck.

But this is a man’s world. I know that I am judged for not being in a relationship, people don’t understand why I would be so selfish. It makes me a bitch? Defective? Unloveable? A, gasp, LESBIAN?! lol, not a lesbian sorry. Shopping for major purchases: Do you need to speak to your husband? Shopping for tools: Are you shopping for your husband? Looking at cars: Is your husband here? Doing my job: Isn’t there a man to help you? My personal fave is when I say something and they don’t believe me then a man says it and they do.

All bullshit.

hHw is this heavy? Well, we have to do all the things, and do them just right. Don’t be TOO direct. Don’t be TOO informed. Don’t be TOO good of a parent. And no matter what we do we are wrong. Lok at how Hillary Clinton was judged! Agree with her politics or not, she was the single most qualified person to seek the office of the president. But her emails… Ya know what fuck you and the emails, as men had been doing the same for forever. Benghazi… OMG FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT, had a man been Secretary of State there would not have been 1 billion investigations into what happened.

Speaking of women in politics lemme do a sidebar. Last Wednesday, 2/12/20, I placed an order with every person running for the democratic nomination. I ordered yard signs and some cool stuff and donated to each campaign. All these orders were placed within a few minutes of each other as I was planning a fun thing, an ANYONE BUT TRUMP yard display. I got my Warren sign Friday, 2/14. I ordered more than the sign but she got me that sign first because that sign mattered. That is a woman not only with a plan, but with priorities. I have only received one other sign and it is for Tom Steyer. I love Liz so much for making sure I got that sign. though I realized after ordering everything I have a company vehicle in my driveway and i don’t want to negatively impact our business by me having political signs all over my yard.

It’s a heavy burden placed on women in a man’s world. I often wonder what it would be like to just be. How do I get to just be myself and still have respect? I can’t make dirty jokes, I can’t have a provocative conversation, I can’t say bad words, I can’t be mean. There is is constant man judgement a lot of women are avoiding.

Not all men, I do have some great ones around. They treat me like a human, neither male or female. I love that. But I still think they’d be afraid if they saw me lose my shit and tell a motherfucker to go pound sand.

Okay so it was a Tuesday. I did not kill anyone, I did not yell. I wasn’t even all that angry, probably because i was sick AF yesterday from chugging pork fat Sunday (I made carnitas, they were good, pork fat is everything, I know it was wrong). But today I was mellow.

As I go down this roads of trying to figure out why I am so fucking angry all the time I would like to take a moment to explore the bullshit that is single motherhood. Lots of people blather on about single parents, we are either or the worst – Living off the system, should have kept our legs closed, not godly (seriously wtf), left a good man, blah, blah, blah. Or the best – Look at how strong she is doing it alone.

Well fuck you. Most of us are just out here tryin to do the thing. We get no time off, no breaks, no rest, and 99% of us didn’t sign up to be single parents. Yes, I am acknowledging the single dads here too. It’s hard. There is no one to tag in at the end of the day or the middle of an argument. There is no back-up. It’s exhausting.

Yes all of this has been said a thousand times. It sucks being a single parent. But you know what, it really is a bit easier. I have full custody of my kids, I have raised them the way I see fit, with no outside interference and you know what? I did a banging job of it.

My kids are fucking awesome humans! No I am not just saying that because they’re mine. If you met them you would say the same. No they aren’t going to save the world or cure cancer but they are cool and kind, funny and smart, quirky and serious, interesting humans. I did that.

They did not get everything they ever wanted in life, far from it. I was mean to them, as all parents are. Their other parent was not around a lot but tried. I spent more time trying to raise them right than I did trying to sticking it to my ex. That’s why they are only moderately nuts and can function. They are reasonably good people and will continue to be good adults. Really all they missed out on was a little more money and parents fighting at home.

I think we all over think this parenting thing. It isn’t hard, don’t be an asshole to your kids and don’t let them be assholes to you. Be supportive, but let them fail. Afterall, you are not raising children, but adults. they aren’t going to need you forever so you better prepare them for the world.

I’m not sure why I’m thinking about them tonight. Perhaps it’s the struggles I see two parent families facing currently, knowing that they’re not doing any better than I did at this gig. It’s all just smoke and mirrors, everyone is putting their best foot forward, putting on that brave face. Being a parent is hard.

I’m not angry these days that I was, and still am, a single mother. I am angry about the few years I wasted being angry that I was a single mother. I am angry about how I was looked at in society when I needed Medicaid or food stamps to make ends meet because absent parent wasn’t paying their part. Those years sucked. But now? I’m 41 and I don’t fucking care. I did the thing. Wanna be judgy? You can pound sand…

I am thankful that I had full responsibility of these kids because when they step out into the world and amaze people, I get a little credit for helping them become exactly who they are. Those who have never walked it alone, have never been the single parent, have never been completely in charge, have no business giving any advice to or passing judgement on those of us who live(d) it.