Reclaiming My Time


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I quit my very toxic, very FUCKED UP job in October of 2017. Like, I could go to court TOXIC, but broke, normal people cannot afford the convenience financially or bureaucratically to do that. If I could hire Gloria Allred…fuck yes I would. Two men came in to the office I was Office Manager at and harassed and accosted me, under the guise of ‘wanting to know what businesses were in this building’. They verbally and physically threatened me when I asked them to leave. Standing over me, aggressively speaking to me. They followed me into the back hallway and refused to leave. I called building security, they sent up a maintenance guy, the two men would still not leave even when the Dr. came out of his office and a fucking asshole client was sitting there too, and still the men would not leave until I took out my phone and started filming them.

They were not solicitors as they claimed. They had zero information or business cards. A few weeks later an office nearby was broken into and nothing was stolen but the whole place was ransacked. I’m pretty sure they were just looking for drugs, and pretty sure these incidents were related. Although not after the maintenance guy went out of his way to talk to each office on our floor, found out these men went in there too and did the same thing to every woman; but I stood up to them and asked them to leave so I was discredited and demeaned in a letter from the building that the doctor used to discredit me in his Unemployment letter statements.


I have every right to feel safe. I was alone in that office. They followed me in the back hall, I knocked on the Doctor’s door and he did not come out. I left the office completely and called for help. What I hate most is I was in the frame of mind that I Didn’t Want To Get In Trouble. Fuck you.

With a great attorney I could sue for losing my job. I asked for some security or changes with the office protocol or the door or SOMETHING. I just kept picturing being shot in the face one day if these guys came back; obviously out for the woman who spoke out of turn to them. All over my $13 an hour job. I freaked out and was a nervous fucking mess and he said if I quit it would be job abandonment and that he didn’t think the whole incident was that bad. He trashed me in his letter to the Unemployment Office, using my daughter and my personal problems with her in the last year as evidence that I was not ‘stable’.  Although I did not miss a day of work due to this. So on top of worrying about my daughter in and out of ER’s and rehabs, I now had this.

Not to mention that the two men, AND the 2 male clients that were present, the male security guard and male doctor all treated me like nothing happened. I was openly shaken and visibly crying and upset. They all went back to acting as if nothing happened, blame shifting and minimizing the event. One even giving me his credit card and paying for his appointment while I was crying at the front desk. And I’m no slouch, I used to be a bouncer and a roller derby queen.

In the middle of it, I called my boyfriend because I had no one there helping me, and GOD FORBID I LEAVE THIS AMAZINGFUCKBALL of a job (not) and I hung up the phone to start filming so he just drove over. He sat with me until I got off work. The Doctor also made fun of this in his statements. I was so afraid to leave, quit, get fired, do something wrong, as this is the environment of gas-lighting and victim blaming the wonderful Doctor had created there; constantly letting clients demean me and talk down to me as well as him belittling me in front of them and by stepping in during appointment setting to book them when I had just told them there was no availability. It was fine if everyone treated me like a complete idiot, and it was my problem if someone was belittling me, I needed to work with his clientele. It was all ME.

Inside of this year as well, I began calling out the Denver Comedy scene for being sexist, and misogynistic, siting posters with tits being grabbed, no women being booked, an article written in the Denver Post clearly siding with the white males of this community, a club staying open despite reports of abuse and harassment to women from the owner and major players, a show put on just to harass a local female comic, and someone telling me they were scared of being associated with me due to their ties to the local (shithole) comedy club here and me being booked on one of their shows.

This town took something I loved and spit it into my face with venom and hate and spite. If you are over 40, female, starting out, creating a space for yourself and speaking out about abusers, there is no room for you here. I had just come down off an AMAZING female comedy fest in Madison WI and started an all female space to do comedy and when I even posted events someone would step in to post THEIR shit. The complicit women on this scene are disgusting, the men circle jerking each other constantly is sickening and I just didn’t want this bad enough I guess, to put up with this SHIT. I took myself out of three major, paying shows.

Those women in Hollywood fighting this fight have my kudos for putting up with this shit just to be able to work in their passion filled dream of a job and I imagine, all the while, watching their male counterparts win awards. The #metoo movement is mindnumbing and heartbreaking to watch and be a part of.

A year of this will wear you down.

A lifetime of this will just fucking snap you.

I left the job and I left comedy. I had anxiety attacks nightly, couldn’t sleep, went into a huge depression and have pretty much stayed in bed if I wasn’t at work or going to the bathroom. I eased into work with a part time job. Still dealing with rich, obnoxious assholes at the coffee shop, but it was a job.

I took my time healing mentally and physically with yoga, walking, sleeping, changing my diet to include more veggies and less BEER, bread, sugar, and quit smoking and by also dumping toxic people and places. The biggest thing I did is to quit beating myself up. I have the most wonderful supportive man in my life who said ‘Do YOU. Take some time to see what you like. Do nothing, do everything, just do what you want.’ And I have. And I thank you Michael.

Now, I have found a job I love, with friends I love, I am writing, I am working on creating films with my friend, I am signed to do a play this summer, I am painting/drawing again and I am still taking this all very, very slowly. This healing only started four months ago. Although I miss performing, I will find a way to get back to the stage. Until then though, I am sick of taking all the blame, I am sick of listening to gas lighters and victim blamers, I grew up with this shit so no wonder I found it all so familiar. I am spending a lot of time forgiving myself, and giving back to the abusers of my life, the responsibilities that were never mine to take care of.

I refuse to live in survival mode any longer.

This is just LIVING. I highly recommend it.



Don’t Know Whatcha Got


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Yeah. That old saying is true. And so is the saying, ‘Don’t threaten ME with a good time.’ Both of which, oddly enough, end up in a massive hangover. To get to the point of this JOURNEY thing that life is, yes, it’s a journey. I have had several jobs in my lifetime. Nothing ‘career’ worthy per say, I guess had I APPLIED myself, yes, I could still be working at the daycare center, or the horse stables, or Loaf ‘N Jug, if you believe in that American Capitalistic DREAM, sure. I could own a Loaf N’ Jug. (Said no one ever.) Instead, I just followed my instincts to pay bills with things that interested me. (The Loaf N’ Jug thing was just to pay bills.)

I did the office lady job when the kids were super little as I was trying to be a grown up – AND IT SUCKED. Boys club anyone? They would promote any 21 year old douchebag that came from their Alma Mater despite the fact that I was taking drafting classes and accounting classes trying to find my way onto this stupid ladder of CAREER CLIMBING that doesn’t exist that I would hate anyway if I actually reached ANY number of rungs on that piece of shit. So fuck that. Thirty years later I tried to go back to office work and its worse going back KNOWING MORE. You just can’t take a lick of shit pretentious people hand you when you get older. I make the same amount of money cooking in this bar kitchen AND I LOVE IT. So office lady status is just not for me and That’s Oh Kay.

I like making pizzas. So sue me. I like being in charge back there when I work alone. I like working with the kitchen manager when he and I are back there together. I just like it. I like making stuff for people, I like making food for people, I want them to think its good and I want them to want more and come back. A friend owns this bar and I want to help him be successful. Being an entrepreneur is fucking exhausting crazy bullshit fucked up and I did it for years and I’m out. Help another guy do it? Fuck yeah.

I remember taking the kids to a bowling alley near where we lived because I love trying hole in the wall burger places and this was as hole in the wall as you could get. We didn’t even bowl, I had no desire to take two small children bowling, I wanted fries and a burger. We ordered chili cheese fries and all got burgers. The man who brought out our food was the chef, and you would have thought he owned the place and that we had ordered London Broils. It was fucking fantastic. He was so friendly and so involved and so happy. I want to be that guy.

It doesn’t matter what you do for work, if you have an ounce of compassion for it and don’t act like you’d rather be lying dead somewhere than doing that thing, that’s what matters. THAT YOU CARE. Its fine to work at Target, clean up dog shit, clean houses, if you give any kind of CARE to it, it changes everything. I don’t need any more zombies living out their last days taking MY MONEY. I was the most successful in my endeavors when I was excited about it. When it started eating my soul up and took my excitement from me and spit it in my face, I’d quit.

So I go back out to the table and I ask people how their pizza was and I listen to what they say to me about it and it matters. Do I make green chili tots and put pineapple on pizza? Yes. Yes I do. Because its me making everything. We make the dough from scratch, make the pizzas from scratch, cooking it in our little oven and handing it to people. I love it. I was really good at being a mom and I’m really good at feeding people and making sure they are happy. I want to be that guy from the bowling alley. Those chili cheese fries were amazing and we went back there for years after that.

Watch how I transform my life by giving CARE to it.


Blogging for FUCKING EVER


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I’ve had a blog since Blogger. Which started in 1999. Since fucking Myspace, founded in 2003.  I’m still just fwapping away in my dum little life with my dum little paychecks in my dumb little apartments. Nothing happens overnight you say? (Who is ‘you’ anyway? No one.) More like NOTHING HAPPENS AT ALL EVER. I don’t have time to Gary Vaynerchuck this bullshit and blast twitter and blast SOCIAL MEDIA BECAUSE NO ONE CARES WHAT A MIDDLE AGED WOMAN has to say. When I started I was in my late twenties…so fuck that.

I’m not selling anything, I’m a writer. NO ONE CARES.

Julie and Julia can kiss my ass.

The Bloggess (love her) can kiss my ass.

I don’t know how to market and CAPITALIZE on this fucking bullshit; I’m just writing.

My dear diary crap is just sad and no one gives a fuck.

But I have to do it. I can keep a journal at my bedside, (and I do) but I want to reach people. Its a fucking sickness. Fuck me.

I don’t have a mommy blog or a mommy wardrobe or mommy ass. I don’t have recipes or hacks. I don’t have a disease or a breakthrough. I just have the fact that I’ve reached middle age and found my invisibility cloak and you can all suck it.

I’ve had a ton of experiences and no one gives a fuck.

But here I am because for several nights in a row, I lie down to sleep and my heart beats out of my chest. I pray it is my last waking hour on this fucking planet and then I google it and then I read Web MD and then I see that I am in fact dying or a have atrial fibrillation or a murmur or cancer or tumors so I came on here tonight to get my mind off of things. Since there is infinite space here online I can type all fucking night long.

So I’m probably not dying but more like, just waiting.

Title of my new novel: No One Cares by Oh, Nevermind…she’s middle aged.

My son leaves for Chicago in the morning.

He’s been staying here almost 9 months. HA! funny. I’ve been an empty-nester and really; I don’t get to enjoy that as I have to work my ass off being a blue collar woman, and my boyfriend has 3 young kids. But mine moved out long ago – they come back, and leave and that’s life. So my ‘nest’ has been empty for quite some time. But I will miss him. It’s been fun having him here and I liked having him close. We argued and acted human, and had our differences (he hated me doing comedy) and he seems to not approve of a lot of things I do but he doesn’t JUDGE me, or stop me, its just there. We are very honest and open about things and I prefer that over anything else. The joys of parenting: YOUR KIDS NEVER LIKE YOU. But they love you. He’s a hard working kid and he’s following a dream and I’m proud of him.

Title of my new novel: Your Kids Never Like What You Do Go Do The Things YOU Like In Life and Then Have Kids.

People should really have children once they retire. It sounds perfect. When the children are old enough to move out – you die. You had your life and did your thing and then when you retire, you have kids. Oh wait, I’ll never be able to retire. fuck.

Title of my new novel: There Is No Good Time to Have Kids

Title of my new novel: I Had Them Young and It Still Didn’t Really Work Because I Married an Asshole

Title of my new novel: Go Get Your Life – Create One Then Rethink the Kid Thing

What the fuck do I know? I was raised with the 1950’s mentality of every woman before me born before 1958 and that was TO GET MARRIED then *crickets* nothing. No advice before or after that. Just that. No education, no SELF instilled. Just find a guy and marry him. Yes I could have gone to college but then when I did; I met a GUY. God I hate myself.

I traveled around the world with that guy which sounded better than college. And speaking of traveling around the world and writing, fuck that ‘Eat Pray Love’ too — the woman who got PAID to write that book/column/who was a paid writer lady.  So I traveled around the world but no one died or no orphans were saved, there were no addictions or tragedies so NO ONE CARES. It was just with a rock and roll band -DIRE STRAITS. BUT NO ONE CARES. Unless you are pandering to some kind of broken ideology or physicality of some fucked up sort, NO ONE FUCKING CARES.

I don’t do everything perfect or pretty or smart. I don’t fuck it up and kill people either so NO ONE CARES. By the time you reach 50 and beyond…all shoulds can directly fuck off right out the window. Mainly because YOU DON’T CARE. What can I do about it now at 1200 a month? Try and get to the beach once a year. That’s about it. Drive to go see my kids. Get a cute dog, barely wear pants, quit wearing make-up, work at a bar and write a play. Visit and drink with my friends and I don’t fucking know.

Title of my new novel: I Don’t Fucking Know

Can’t you just see the cover? Something like this…


or this…

white dress

but in black and white and all blurry

You know… all those books now that have covers with photography on them…

Here, here is my new novel.

book cover





Do Overs

I just can’t hack facebook (AND THAT MY AUTOCORRECT CAPITALIZES THIS) (FUCK YOU OVERLORD facebook.) anymore. Can I re-invent my Facebook? Can I delete the algorithms that are ruining my life and getting ads sent to me about fur coats and hedgehogs camping? I think I will try. I hate what my facebook has become anyway. I’ve messed with the algorithms as much as I’ve messed with my metabolism and its now unhealthy.

Medium Article

So read this. All NONE of you out there.

I can’t hack this anymore. But I do want to write.

So it’s a sick kind of addiction.

I’m really just sick of the happiness meme’s and all of the bullshit surrounding HAPPINESS actually that’s jammed down my throat on facebook and more and more and more it is a glaring SIT DOWN SHUT UP AND BE SMALL attitude that I see on those memes and on anything else my fucked up algorithms have been bringing me.

I’ve watched Black Mirror and we’re all screwed.

Have a nice day.


View story at

View story at

View story at

Not Built For Speed


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I am off today. I will be working for the next 13 days in a row. I am not a person who has two jobs very well. Nor did I choose those two jobs well. They are too conflicting. Coffee shop/bar. I close at the bar and open up the coffee shop. NAH. GAH. DAH. I prefer working alone (EVERYWHERE) in the kitchen, so I quit the coffee shop job which requires me to smile at rich people who have no problem spending $60 on MUFFINS. And I’m sorry but are macrons MADE OF GOLD??? Jesus Christ. Anyhoo, I LOVE the kitchen, cooking and being able to drink beer while at work if I want. So BYEEEEEEE COFFEE SHOP LIFE.



I’ve been asked to do a couple of comedy shows, and I just can’t do it. It feels like a bad car accident I lived through and it’s too soon to drive. Do I want to do my own thing? FUCK YEAH. I might. If I can do it with the attitudes of Trixie and Katya— YES. But they are hard working bitches and have worked ten years in their industry and KICK ASS -I’m just some poor. white. old lady. who doesn’t know shit but I do like to fight the patriarchy. For now, I’m just trying to stay alive and work.



So today I lied in bed, all fucking day, in my Christmas leggins and didn’t move and at 7 I’ll go see I, Tonya. Tomorrow I’ll make pizza and drink beer. I have no idea what I’m doing. I never do. All I know is that I’m trying to see what I want my life to be. It’s not what anyone told me, or what even I told me. I hoped for a lot of things that are in actual life, pieces of SHIT. So— RE-DO. And Re-Do FOR EVER. Your whole life is a re-do. So the fuck what?

Today I am a short order cook on her day off.

Eat me.


Who Are You Today?



It’s a new day! New lessons, a chance to throw out more of those shitty voices in your head. DUMP THEM. Ya know, those one’s that say, ‘You can’t do that, you bought all that coffee stuff’ when you actually want tea instead. So you make tea. You play records at 9 a.m. Remember how much you used to LOVE your record player? God, I LIVED in my room with either my headphones on or soaking up every album and reading through the liner notes and studying the album cover and all the photos inside if they folded out. I LOVED IT WHEN THEY FOLDED OUT.


Today I am Yoga/Tea/Record Lady Who Dresses Kind of Nice for Her Coffee Shop Job. I realized when I got the job I kind of thought maybe if I didn’t INVEST totally, it would be okay if it didn’t work out, and if I didn’t care too much about it I didn’t have to look that great either. Everyone there is in their 20’s and going to school and/or building their lives up somewhere outside of this job. They are young, they don’t have to put their eyebrows on in the car before 6 a.m. Or maybe they do. All I’m saying is the less effort I thought I put into it, the not so big of deal it would be if it didn’t work out or if I quit.

Then I decided not to be that lady – I want to be someone who CARES. I care. I care that I do a good job. These people are nice, they like me. It’s pretty easy and I LOVE COFFEE. I realized I stand deep in fear through everything because I think it will protect me somehow. And that somehow liking something or caring about something makes me vulnerable. What if it just makes your life more open to let go of all of that fear? I know I seem fearless. I seem strong and outspoken, and I am those things, but I always have a layer of protection there. What if I dropped that and CARED?

So the other day I wore a blousy, flowery, kind of hippie shirt and jeans (normally I wear a coffee shop t-shirt…which is ADORABLE with my favorite little emoji cartoon cupcakes on them.) and everyone was all WOW YOU LOOK NICE! YOU LOOK SO GIRLY! YOU LOOK PRETTY! It was sweet. I also quit taking everything so personally. When you are all about protection, and that’s all you focus on, all you live inside of is in DEFLECTION mode. Sometimes it is nothing about you at all, even if someone is rude, but since you’ve done nothing but send out signals of EVERYTHING STAY AWAY FROM ME – you’ve actually attracted it. It’s like the energy of the world goes: ‘Oh you? I wasn’t even paying attention to you but now that you keep bringing it up saying ME ME ME…I’ll be right over!’

I was taught if I was nice, I was vulnerable and would be taken advantage of and teased. If I didn’t Act Nice I got reamed. Although my mother and grandmother drilled manners into me relentlessly with please and thank you and poking me with these prompts constantly if we were out anywhere; or at home. Basically I acted WRONG all the fucking time. Instead of being worried that I didn’t talk at all for about a year of my life, they chose to be worried that I was being RUDE. I WAS 5. But yeah, fuck that kid.

I always try and figure out WHY I react to things the way I do, and sometimes it comes up for me that a lot of it is from my childhood. I’m not blaming, I’m just doing some archaeology so I can dig that shit up, and replace it since I usually discover it was complete bullshit that someone taught me it to me to begin with. I didn’t speak or say words for almost a year. I don’t know why, no one informed me of this, only that I didn’t talk and wouldn’t talk and was ‘rude’ to strangers who were telling me I was pretty or giving me attention somehow. I WAS 5. So I forgive that little Judy…she doesn’t have to talk if she doesn’t want to. But 51 year old Judy works with others and with the public and has discovered that when you open up to see what OTHER PEOPLE have to offer, you learn stuff about people, you have adventures and see a little into other people’s lives. The focus is on OPEN and COME IN, not STAY AWAY YOU HURT ME.

I mean, I’m not like Mother Theresa or anything, sometimes I mop and clean and do dishes just to not talk to people and that’s ok too. I am not a bad, RUDE person, I am just an introvert who likes her job and I care about how the shop looks and that the tables are clean. It’s a sickness. An OCD of sorts. I’ll look into that later.

But there’s a bitchy person in the kitchen, and its not about ME, its about HER. A rude customer…NOT ME…HIM. When I open up to stories though, or saying hi…the coolest people speak up and make a connection and its pretty cool. People are into their own shit and probably have worse shit than I can imagine happening to them. ITS NOT ABOUT ME.

Then I go straighten out all the drinks in the drink cooler.


When You Are Sick of Yourself


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What if you are just tired of ‘CREATING’? BUIDLING. SOMETHING. Fighting. For. Relevance. I’m tired. And no one cares. And that’s fine. I don’t want to build an empire. I don’t want to entrepreneur ANYTHING. I’m fucking exhausted. The last few years hasve taken its toll. In many, many, many ways. Personal, professional, creative, human, mind numbing ways. I am shot.

I am now just trying to do these three things:

  1. Eat healthy for the most part – because if I don’t, I feel physically bad. It is something I fight with that is actually GOOD FOR ME, so I am going to go against the grain in my head that says GO OUT AND HAVE A BURGER AND A BEER because it never means that; it means 9 beers, then buying cigarettes, eating like shit AFTER the burger and feeling like crap for three days.
  2. Work. I need some financial SOMETHING. So I got another job. I am not going back to school or starting a new business or pulling myself up by my fucking fucked bootstraps. I’m just going to put my head down and work. I have two places that are pretty cool to hang out in, that I enjoy for the most part and they pay me. I’m going to see what happens if I sit still.
  3. Breathe. The last 20 years of my life have been spent in survival mode. I have made many decisions out of desperation and not out of thoughtful desire. I am going to just try and sleep well, enjoy moments and do things I love while I take care of myself.

Three things.

I get to see who I am now. I am not treading water any more. I am on the shore. I am no longer terrified. I am just here. It is very hard not to feel like I Should. Be. Doing. Something. I am working. I am paying my bills. I laugh and cook and go outside and socialize and enjoy things. That’s all I can do right now. I do not know how to do some of these quiet things.

I don’t have to be Scrambling. I can just breathe and do things in life. They don’t have to be things that move mountains.

What if we presented to the world something amazing instead of something flawed?

We are taught what we are to ‘present’. I would like to fuck up that jam.

I was speaking about this with a friend. What if one day I wanted to be a lady that wears skinny jeans and high heels? That is not ‘like Judy.’ What if I kept tipping that over with WHAT IF JUDY IS NOT LIKE JUDY ANYMORE?

Then what happens?

I want to be the lady who rides her bike with a big purple hat, striped knee socks and a horn on my handlebars. And wearing army boots. Or Adidas. Whichever.

The lady who dresses up her dog.

The lady who reads all day long, for reals. All. Day.

The lady who drinks tea.

The lady who smokes weed.

The lady who gets her nails done and eats tuna salad.

The radical vegan.

The lady no one knows.

I’m going to try on all these persona’s. You don’t know shit about me. You only know what I show you and tell you. I’m going to see how my experiences change depending on what and how I present myself.

Cowering, scared, hiding, angry, unworthy, beat down Judy does not exist. She carried me this far and made sure her kids had food and a place to live. She always had jobs, she always paid her way, she bent over backwards and into knots to please others. She fought fiercely for her kids, other people’s kids and for her self. She is going on a long, dream, cruise-safari-dance party. She deserves it.

Today I was Spotless Kitchen Lady.

I like her.


We’re all trying to be relevant!

Well. I quit.


Waking up Early


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Well, nothing like an alarm of nightmares to get things movin. In my dream I was hanging out with my kids, and they were young, and we were in the mountains and we were drawing and exploring and having fun and then a giant flash flood happened and we were scattered and running, then I woke up. Jesus. Thanks BRAIN.

So here I am. It’s 4:41. I should just wake up every day at this time. I usually have to get up to go to the bathroom, then I crawl back in to bed. BUT I’m CHANGING MY LIFE. GET ON IT GIRL. yeah. ok. I do normally wake up at this point. I have met a few people in my lifetime who say they wake up at this time and they were successful people actually. I was impressed. They said they got up for the quiet, and to write and start their day calmly with coffee and peace. BAH. Why do that? I have always preferred chaos and shock to start my day.

I have had enough sleep. I got super stoned and went to sleep around 8:30. So let’s do this!! Drank my FAVORITE…SAKE last night, and had rice with my sushi—but other than that I only had about 7 pcs- and had veggie tempura….anyway-I’m sick of feeling like I have to admit shit like I’m in an AA meeting. I’m sick of fearing food. I’m sick of being worried or stressed by food. My daughter has been in eating disorder hospitals, I can see the pattern here, I always worry I did not help in THAT situation. I’m just so fucking OVER counting my food or punishing myself over goddamned food.


We both need manicures.

I’m just trying to do everything in moderation right now since the EXTREME and being BLACK/WHITE is usually what I do. THIS article helped a lot:

6. Please be reasonable and practical when changing your diet. “Clean” eating is bullshit that leads to orthorexia. Sugar is not going to kill you in moderation (nor does it cause cancer). The alkaline diet is complete bullshit. Paleo isn’t based on anything scientific. And gluten is only a problem if you have actual Celiac disease. If you lose weight on any of these diets, it’s probably because you’re getting more fruits and veggies and eating fewer empty calories. Talk to a REGISTERED DIETICIAN or other properly certified and licensed expert in diet and nutrition. (I was informed that the term “nutritionist” can have legitimate and certified status in some countries. In the USA, however, it’s a bullshit term that anyone can use without real qualification.)

Reposted from Leo d’Entremont on SciBabe’s facebook. Scibabe is the amazing Yvette d’Entremont. Read more about her here here. She’s a smart chick who believes in FACTS. Searching for that info on her, I found this. Where you can read about alcohol giving you cancer. So there’s that. No wonder I’m having nightmares. I guess to change your life you HAVE TO ACTUALLY CHANGE IT. I am also very good at extreme only changes and I’m trying not to do that. I’m just going to sit with stuff as of recently and move through things a little more slowly. Have different experiences—so the fuck what?? It’s gonna be a kind of quiet journey that will last until I die I suppose.

OMG – I’m on the right track— just found this:

Another great article on the bullshit of finding yourself.

Getting up at 4 is definitely paying off. cool.

Its all this facty stuff that keeps me from Reiki. (Even though it HAS a Wikipedia page.) (That also states that its bullshit.) Even though I have had experiences with it that are amazing—its like hippie bullshit and feels weird to make a business out of it. So I’m just gonna work at the coffee shop and write and see what happens. Actually WORK on writing. READ. I’m going to cook and keep researching food and science and fact and fiction and what tastes good on a budget and what works that doesn’t cost a lot. Like a normal person.

Also THIS about how awesome SAKE is. Scientifically even. Fuck yeah.

Really what I’m learning here is MODERATION. And that’s new.

Also – listening to Bossa Nova on loop helps. YouTubeChannelforawesome.

And So it Begins


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One of my best friends of twenty years and I drove from Denver to Houston and back. This is us in a rest stop near Richmond, Texas somewhere. Where was this? It had historical history displays and plaques in it. An old woman lived in there whom I think was hired to clean or maybe she was put there to suffer some kind of torture. It was weird. It was the middle of the night and she had a dust rag with her, and she hated us of course. We acted like we were on a big adventure. But for a rest stop, this place was pretty fancy.




This is the shit food we ate since I vowed to start Whole30 on Jan. 1st. I felt like the addicts on Intervention who shoot up before they get on the plane to go to rehab. It was gross, and so far, right now, I’m on day four of Whole30, and I do not miss this shit food. I AM sick of cooking every fucking meal, but I have 40 dollars in the bank and can’t do a big shop and PREP several meals yet, which is the key, but I’m doing it moderately since I tend to dive in with perfectionist tendencies and want to jump off a cliff by week 2. I ate some cheese, some chips and salsa, and have had two cookies and some chocolate. But no drinking and no smoking and I’m doing my goddamned best. I’m so tired of this depression that I’m pretty motivated to change my life. I think no alcohol and changing my diet will improve things exponentially. I have headaches and I dream about brownies but cest la vie!

IMG_5318 We hit up the beach in Matagorda, a small fishing town and one of the oldest cities in Texas. Definitely made me want to become a bird watcher. Saw a Turkey Vulture at the beach hanging out with the seagulls. The water was brown with sand and it was cold but I got my water/beach fix. I took off my shoes and walked in the water anyway. I love the sound of the waves and it was calming and peaceful, the collecting of seashells that I did and just breathing in sea air was all I needed. I did have the best fried chicken in the WORLD at Stanley’s.  Omg. We almost turned around to get more.

We filmed our ‘mockumentary’ and several changes came about. We are playing two women who go to Texas to be in a music festival. While trying to write a dumb country song, we decided we have ZERO talent in song writing, and if we write a dumb song will people watching the film just feel sorry for us or laugh? We have some decisions to make on the story line and how it is presented. There is a fine line between being funny and having people feel sorry for us that we took ourselves so seriously. Which we did not, but presenting that is definitely walking the wire.

I love those windmill thingies, old and new. For right now I am just trying to get through life on doing what I love. I feel like I have had my nose to the grindstone for the last several years marketing myself, my comedy, my shows, my ideas, trying to become SOMEONE. Getting an office job so I could be ‘normal’ and ‘stable’ and in the end, it all ate me alive.

The chiros’s office that I worked in was full of a brutal 1% clientele which the doctor cultivated and no demeaning of me was ever too much. So THAT CAN GO EAT SHIT. Being 50 in this comedy climate can also GO EAT SHIT. I’m sick of the toxic misogyny that is rewarded. After a certain age you just don’t want to deal with all this crap just to do something you like.

I’m getting the feeling that at this age, you just don’t deal with bullshit. PERIOD.


I can’t imagine how I’ll be if I get to live to be 80. Fuck this bullshit already man!

I’m so ambition-less right now. I’m so over trying to make every hobby and love of mine some kind of money maker. I’m just going to exist and see how that goes. I like my coffee shop job and it is the least stressful place I’ve ever worked.

I am a creative soul so I will continue to perform, and be on stage, and create words and live in my love of words. I’m auditioning next Saturday for a feminist theater troupe and putting together a 3 minute piece about getting cum in your eye.

I’m meeting this Saturday with the director of our performance of ‘A Year of Magical Thinking’ in Denver. We are going to have lunch and be ladies and laugh and create shit.

Things are moving a long, but my brain? It’s being quiet. I’m taking it to the mountains and out to get coffee and taking it on bike rides and letting it sleep in despite its best efforts to nag the shit out of me to worry about life and be in some kind of constant chatter.

It’s very strange not to feel pressured by Gary Vanurchuck right now.  I just can’t do it bro. I gotta live my life and see how that is for the moment. I’m not the next BIG THING. I’m the last big thing.

Like right now, I am debating on what to write in this damn blog. Do I start up my ‘Raisin’ Hell Livin’ Well’ stuff? About being healthy and changing your life if you are fucking broke? I mean, I can’t do the gym, a nutritionist, see a doctor, go to therapy, go buy all the food. I have to do it all myself. I want to start a whole movement about having your best life no matter how much money you DON’T fucking have. This capitalist bullshit world has eaten up all entrepreneurs and charges people for ideas. New Year’s resolutions are a cash cow now.

I am just not motivated to do any goddamned thing.

I’ve done it.

I have school loan debt.

No savings.

NO retirement.

I’ve led a super fun, adventurous, rock and roll life.

I’ve experienced heartbreaking devastation and deceit.

I have artistic ability.

I’ve rebuilt my life over so many times.

I don’t see the glory in anything anymore.

I’ve lost my passion.

I guess my only passion are my expressions.

But what are those at the end of the day?

This is a weird stage in my life. I am drained and tired and yet have the best opportunity to completely change every single goddamned thing about my life. I have to completely drop the past. I have to drop it like a napalm bomb. Destroying everything in its past path.

This blog is scattered. But so the fuck what? Organize it? Why? So I can get a book deal? Because of all of my ‘readers’??  Everything is not a ‘production’ to be marketed or sold or ‘branded’. NO ONE GETS BOOK DEALS OVERNIGHT. Even the Bloggess has a degree in journalism and wrote for the Houston Chronicle and wrote for ten years before her blog ‘blew up’. Nothing is overnight and even less than that, nothing quickly explodes into fame or brings fortune. So I have no choice but to follow that which fancies me. That which makes me smile or laugh or feel proud.

I like buying clothes for my dog.

I like writing poetry.

I like making films.

I like laughing til I cry.

I like a clean bathroom.

I want my teeth cleaned.

I want to paint bugs on stuff.

I want people to feel good.

Look how long this is!!! I’m breaking all of the rules!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!







The Year of ME


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Not only do I still have a little voice in my head telling me NOT to title this with what I titled it with, but I also know where that voice comes from, and I also know that I am going to spend the next year empowering myself and silencing that voice. Recently, in speaking with my friends, whom are all either close to 50 or just past it, we have collectively, without communicating this to one another before, come to the conclusion that we are exhausted. The driving home point of this exhaustion is the fact that we are last on the list in our lives and everyone elses. We even put ourselves last.

One friend has had major health issues all year long while trying to help her child through being hospitalized with mental health care, she’s started her own business somewhere in there and moved several times trying to stay afloat.

The other friend has had her child also hospitalized with surgeries and serious health problems almost losing him several times in the last few years, also leading to mental health issues, depression and thoughts of suicide also from years of trauma from the past whom is also trying to start her own business and get on her feet and away from an abusive partner.

I myself after 20 years of struggling with trauma, have quit a high stress micro managed job of harassment and demeaning treatment, (we keep finding our toxic family of origin over and over) getting out of the toxic environment of a comedy scene, changing my life goals, not making a living wage, living with a boyfriend who has three very young kids, watching my kid go in and out of rehab, od’ing, also trying to die and having my other adult child live with us to save money to follow his dreams.

I have another friend who has been in and out of rehab herself, is being threatened and stalked, losing her family, home and marriage, fighting with alcoholism, and trying to start over also, at this DAMN AGE. It’s a piece of shit you assholes!

All of these women are brilliant, strong, creative, intelligent warriors. I have known all of them for 20 years or more. We are no slouches to diversity. We have been married and divorced; all of us, more than once, fought for our lives, been abused, been amazing, been filthy rich, lived a life of dreams for some, and we are all on the bottom again and fucking exhausted.

We. Are. All. Done.

It is not just the last year that has put us over the edge. We’ve seen this edge before. We don’t know if we can take another day of it. All of us. How did this happen? Because we are not good little maxwell housewives. We all have fought for what we believed in all these years. When things were bad, we got out. Some of us in court to do so. We fought back, and we won. We lived and learned over the years and right now, every single one of us just wants to have our lives back.

We have come last for everyone. We are at the bottom of the list, especially on the list of people we’ve been holding up. Our kids, our spouses, boyfriends, jobs. We built up our confidence over the years in doing so, somewhere in there and now we see that we are collectively tired of holding up these other people. They will be fine.

They will also be pissed. People don’t like it when you step down to do your own life. When they have to make their own decisions and then they watch you stop valuing their decisions over your own. The one’s who find value in you however, will find value in you taking the time to do this for yourself.  Other people’s problems are:





This is my new mantra. I got it from watching Season 7 of Shameless. Thanks Fiona!!


Here’s whats happening.

We are valuing ourselves. You are all grown ass people. We are wanting to fix OUR OWN health issues, our OWN finances, our own CAREERS, our own mental health, our own stability, our own vitality.

I will speak for me now, I would like to take care of the pain I have been carrying around for the last 20 years not to mention childhood abuse years. I would like to thrive. I would like to see what life is like if I believe in myself. That voice I mentioned before is the one of being told as a kid that I DON’T MATTER. And that is being addressed this year. I need to silence that voice, by knowing where it came from, digging it out like a plantars wart and RELEASING. It’s not mine anymore. Someone in pain gave that to me and I’m not responsible for it any longer.

To put it into words I’ll repeat the words of my friend: If I am not making money or having fun, I’m not doing it.

I am taking on a one woman show called ‘The Year of Magical Thinking’. a play adapted from her book by Joan Didion. It will be intense and the most challenged I have been on stage in my entire life. Two dear, dear friends are directing and producing it. I am going to go back to doing Reiki in a healing space/office up in Boulder. I am going to come together with other women, my friends, and we are going to help one another build our businesses, and thrive and have some god damned fucking FUN. Jesus Christ already. We are going to make films, write and create and thrive because we believe we can.

I want to feel good about my body that used to be athletic. Comedy, bars, drinking, depression, has taken that away.

I want my heart to feel better.

I want my lungs to feel better.

I’m taking on Whole30 in January.

I’m working at the coffee shop and am going to see how this rebuilding thing goes while I work in a calm, peaceful atmosphere with CAKE.

This transformation will not always be wonderful.

I will come in here and report back about everything. Because I am a writer, and this is my passion and how I process.

For now, it is snowing. I have a road trip to plan with one of the friends mentioned above. We are driving to Houston from Denver. We are filming a mockumentary, we are LEAVING EVERYONE FOR CHRISTMAS to go do our thing. We will be having Christmas with her kid and ex husband. We are bringing props and writing a script. THIS is how you create your life.

You just fucking start.