Chain Mail

This is Stxxxxx Stxxxx. I’m doing some spring cleaning. If you’re getting this text, you’ve probably seen ZERO “Up Close and Personal” ACTION with me (but if you did, you’re definitely one of the few).

For whatever reason, Knowing You has been a low-neutral-to-negative experience for me, and I have no interest in seeing you again. Assuming I ever saw you in the first place.

I don’t know why I waited this long. I should have done this two whole days ago!

Getting rid of all this Dead Weight makes me feel as free as a newly released helium balloon. I feel like I’m bumping my head against clouds already.

PS. If Gender Translation is required, THE GIST of ALL of this is:

>>“Next time you feel horny, DON’T CALL ME!!”<<

Knowing YOUR level of romanticism, you’d probably text me with a 5-word proposition and think that was irresistibly SMOKIN’ hot.

My Qualifications?


Why do I Want to Host a Place to talk about the Process of the Creation of the Writing of Poetry and Other Forms of Written Creative Expression?

It’s not as if I’m a Commercial, Critical, or even a Popular Success.

What I AM is a Fragrant Fusion of the Following Flaws and Flaunts:

•Well-Vocabularized
•Well-Educated
•Well-Traumatized
•Empathic
•Wordplayful, and
•Always Available.

I think those qualifiers are as good as any,


Don’t You?

I’m So Proud of You

I’m so proud of you, Grown-Up Little Girl!

You keep tearing on yourself, but can I tell you You’ve surpassed my expectations for Us?

The way you keep on staying brave and open, well frankly, I’m astounded.

I never knew you’d be such a LOVER and a FIGHTER❣️

LOVE LETTER TO MY ONLINE FRIENDS


I don’t often find myself contemplating the virtues of Cyberspace, but today I’d like to extoll one of its underreported virtues: LOVE.

Yes, Love. There IS Love to be found here❣️

Yesterday, all day, I felt emotionally fragile. I’ve learned, since beginning this blog last September, that the Internet can grant succor and relief through the Catharsis of “Writing-For-Sharing.”

Sometimes the public attention makes me crafty and prancy with my words, even making up new ones like “prancy.” Other times, I feel like I’m vomiting poison. Or losing what’s left of my beauty.

There are Certain Memories I hold close and parting is such sweet sorrow! But I believe Vulnerability is the Magic Ingredient for Good Writing of Any Kind [sorry much caps, all needed].

Last night I sobbed for hours while writing about my non-baby-but-still-child, Ethan (one of 3 unborn siblings, but the only one officially named).

I’m still crying.

The public-ness and Exposure feel threatening, and I can’t withstand threat right now.

What I need to feel – and needed to feel – is Love. And I did. When I saw this morning that four of my most Devoted Devoteds and Favorite Favorites had read and “liked” my Memorial to Ethan, I felt a rush of love.

Why? The Likes meant these people endured the discomfort and read all the way down to the Like button. And by Liking, they agreed to my request to hold Ethan’s memory for a moment, so I could regain my breath.

Breath is life, friends. As the unwounded soldier helps the wounded, so your kindly presence returned air to my lungs.

By letting me SPREAD MY PAIN, you saved me. You earned the 💜, and I’ll be the one pinning it on you at the ceremony.

Grace, Bogdan, DirtySciFiBuddhah, and Andrea:

Thank you. You’re Everything.

God as a Parent

Sometimes I feel like the God of the Bible is one of THOSE parents. You know them. Every time there’s something you desperately want or want to do, their immediate answer is a swift “No.” They don’t even consider the details. When you ask why not, they reply with an annoying “Because I said so!”

Examples:

•Can I have sex with this cute guy? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I have sex with myself then? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I at least THINK about sex? No…said so.
•What about lobster for dinner? Nope. Same reason.
•A single shrimp? [Eye roll]

Every parent uses that answer sometimes and deservedly so. But frankly, it’s a cop out for when there isn’t time for a more considered response. My biggest concern is for the families where parenting has been distilled down to this exchange, repeated over and over again. They often produce young people who either 1) quit inquiring or 2) quit thinking for themselves.

I should know.

Why?

Why is that when I feel joyous,

I’m always reminded of how fleeting it is,

BUT

When I feel sadness,

I’m never reminded of how fleeting it is?

Journal, 6/20; The Greatest Estrangement

I transcribed this verbatim from a journal I just discovered. I wrote these two entries a little over a year before I started my blog here. I think this older writing proves I’ve gained much ground in the areas of freedom, peace, and joy. I’m still confused, but believe all will be revealed…

6/27/20

Dear God:

I have to admit I don’t understand you anymore. I used to think I did, but I totally don’t anymore. What I can’t wrap myself around is why – when I loved you so much – you’d allow me to get so broken, ruined, and hopeless.

Where WERE you? And why didn’t you step in when everything in my life fell apart [over and over and over again]?

I know I have disappointed you. That I’m stuck in a prison I partially made. But I didn’t make it entirely on my own. If anyone knows this, it’s you. But now that I’m here, you’re going to judge me when I die and say I gave up on You and didn’t use the gifts you gave me?

Let me point out: I think it was you that left me first. I’m telling you how I really feel because you can take it and I obviously can’t. I can’t “take” much of anything anymore. The only thing I feel is pain. Just pain and only pain. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I am the walking dead. No joy, no laughter, no hope, no faith, no anything. Certainly no charismatic “fruits of the spirit.” I’m dry and hollow from the inside out.

So does this mean I’m not a “real” Christian? Because it doesn’t feel like I’m one of your Chosen. Chosen by the devil for torture and suffering, maybe. But surely not chosen for “life and life abundant!”

6/30/20

I can’t get through more than 3 sentences of my letter from Saturday without feeling cowed. I’m hanging my head in shame. You are holy and sacred and righteous and true and you don’t deserve my accusations.

I guess I just really need to FEEL your love – and it seems I only feel pain. I realize I was the one who turned away [because you say it was me], but it’s getting hard to turn back. And I miss you! So very much! But I need to know the TRUE YOU and not someone’s interpretation of you. I know you say your word is all we need, but it can be vexing to read. It makes me feel that if I don’t understand parts of it, I’m not really yours.

These reformed theologians have me doubting my salvation every moment of every day. Do you still love me? Did you ever? Will you not choose me if I’m not written in your book of life? Even though you’ve always known me, would you abandon me over a technicality?

It doesn’t matter much because I can’t imagine a hell much worse than my life as it now is. I’m sure if I’m to spend eternity tortured by demons, it will be much worse, though. I’m sure I’ll be screaming in agony for all of eternity future.

The thing is: I don’t understand why you’d let anyone do that to me.

I know I’m selfish and ugly and evil, but I thought you saw my beauty? Was I wrong all this time? Or did you un-see it one day?

I’ve served you, repressed myself, lived in fear, and felt like a disappointment to you my whole life, and in response? Are you really going to allow my already-shredded soul to be ripped to shreds all over again, every day for forever?

It Makes Me Mad my Bride Price has Dropped…

I get mad when people mistake self-deprecating humor and vulnerability for weakness instead strength.

What kind of insecurity places a bullseye on itself? Projection is the preferred ego defense of the “unexamined mind.”

When I make fun of myself or “tell on myself” (as some say in the South), I’m usually doing it to put my companion[s] at ease. It comes out of a desire to magnify the other; to make them feel confident about themselves. I’m an empath, and I pick up on a lot of what others are saying and showing, even if I don’t directly mention it.

Instead, I try to take what stressors I perceive they’re feeling and try to make them “un feel” them by communicating my understanding of their suffering.

I confess that I used to have to be the smartest person in the room. I wouldn’t stop until everybody knew it (or, one time at a business conference in Switzerland, until one fellow British VP thought I was a complete asshole!).

This behavior is from my striving, highly “successful” period – when my “bride price” was probably much higher than it is now.

I think I’ve finally learned, grown, and realized I prefer underpromising and overdelivering to showing off.

Sadly, despite all the work (mental, interpersonal, emotional) I had to do to get to this, my wisest and strongest place in life, I sense I’m perceived as the Chauncey Gardner/Peter Sellers character in Being There. Without the incorrect recognition of “his genius.”

So my question is this:

Am I full of bullshit, still desperately needing to be the smartest person in the room by complaining I feel misunderstood since no one realizes I’m the smartest person in the room anymore (even though I know I still clearly am)?

#isthisnarcissism?

🤦🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

The tears, the prayers

The tears?

The ones on my knees, when I was pleading with you to let the baby stay?

The prayers?

The relentless, always-in-pursuit-but-unable-to-escape guilt?

The kind I couldn’t exorcise, no matter how I tried?

The feeling like less than a slug for decades?

I think it was “dirty menstrual rags” you equated my beauty to?

The believing I had only to speak the words and have the faith of a child to make my dreams come to pass?

The dreams which never, EVER came to pass?

Even when I was a child (therefore having the “faith of a child”)?

If it was in your sovereign will for me?

Without ever telling me what your sovereign will for me was in the first place?

Well, it never did me an ounce of good.

So, thanks for that kindness, too.

If you’d been a plain old debased human, I would’ve cut you off years ago.

Then again, I happen to have a fondness for brokenness.

I don’t get all mad and wrathful trying to beat the sin out of the sinners you so brilliantly and beautifully designed.

So: your goodness and mercy never cease to let me down.

If you’re as omniscient as you claim, I’ll assume you picked up on the sarcasm in my last sentence.

If not: go ahead and insert dark, jaded, broken-down, angry, disappointed, soul-crushed sarcasm all throughout the fabric of my last 3 posts.

It’s intentional.

I think it’s obvious, but:

I’m pretty sure, if you even do exist, you stopped caring about what we humans had to say centuries ago.

We haven’t killed enough people in your name lately, so I guess you moved on to angrier people.

That was your mistake.

Because I’m probably the Angriest Bitch you’ll come across for a long time.

In fact, I’m so angry, if you had the guts to face me:

I’d probably kill you myself.

If you weren’t already dead.

[At least to me]

And why…

And why…

In your Absolute Sovereignty,

Did you allow us NO sovereignty to help allay the constant suffering which marks the human condition?

While subsequently labeling any “human pleasures” which allay that suffering as

SIN-full and EVIL?

I played by your rules my Whole Fucking Life.

And mostly?

I’m just mad about all the years I wasted.

In fact, I’m:

Really fucking pissed off.





WTF??

Why in Heaven’s Name did you decide to make us human if you’re going to consign us to ten eternities in hell for simply being human?

The logic evades me. But I’m a thorough louse for even asking. Right? I know: more shame on me.

Teenagers‼️

Why does my heart bleed for teenagers when I never had any of my own? I try to give them (probably misguided) advice – see my reply to a young girl’s comment. I know: wisdom from the woman known as Karaoke Konnection on YouTube. It’s laughable.

Then, please tell me if it’s misguided. Because I really need to know. It’s profoundly, remarkably, achingly important to me that my words never damage these young people. I want them to excel and to thrive and to keep Humanity alive!

More than anything…

Please Watch if You Love a Teenager

I’m 54, and I feel like you’re telling my story. I know it feels like your father has betrayed all of you (because he did) and everything that once seemed so certain now seems terribly uncertain. And you don’t even get to be mad because you’re being such a little adult, keeping up your end of the deal, while the adults are abandoning their roles as if they never existed in the first place. I’m so sorry that the pressure has fallen on you during this time. My only advice for all of you teenagers who are hurting now is:
Please never bury the real and unique you that burns inside. You know your dreams and your passions and your heart in a way no other person does. Your circumstances will change frequently throughout your life, but your essence, your personhood, won’t. Please don’t EVER bury yourselves so much in your efforts to make others happy that you extinguish the beautiful flame that burns in each one of you❣️

P.S. Tell your parents a lady older than them said so‼️

THE BEST LOVER

I’m a sucker for a great big bloody love story, so that’s the primary reason why I am a Christian. They just don’t make better love stories than that, and I should know.


The problem is – and will always be – that I am a thoroughly self-obsessed, fully debauched sinner who is too proud and ignorant to listen to a god-damn word He says.


christianityquotes #imtoobroken #imasinner #religions #lovestories #philosophy

WORD ALERT MALFUNCTION‼️

Apparently I’m as “out of touch” as ever!

My friend Robi told me I had been using the term “Millennial” incorrectly all this time.

I thought it meant “people born after the Millenium,” aka: anyone 21 and under.

Though Robi couldn’t tell me what a Millennial actually is (”older” was his one-word explanation), could you save me the effort of having to go back and swap out “Millenials” for “teenagers” and just retrofit all of my comments about them in your brains?

And could someone do me a solid and let me know what people born after 2000 are called?

I make a big enough ass out of myself without “Semantics issues” increasing my public humiliation.

Thank you in advance❣️

[Thank you Sigmund for the use of your photograph].❤️

I Thought the Traumas Aged Me

I thought my traumas aged me.

All the childhood crap, the losing of all my pregnancies, the searing betrayals, the fights with death and disease, the ongoing fights with death and disease, and the psychological fallout from all of the above.

Yada, yada, yada.

But no: nothing ages a person like wearing her (or his) heart completely exposed and unprotected on the prosaic sleeve; aware of the devastating effects of every tiny particle of dust and vaporous breeze that touches and then and has no choice but to scar it.

At which point you’re trying to fly low behind the radar, attempting to allude Cosmic Scrutiny and trying hard not to attract more pain than is unsurvivable.

Multiplied by the number of children you have.

That’s the Crucible that turns Ordinary Sitizens into Old Souls.

Jennifer, The Multimedian

My Introductory Post on Instagram:

MY INTENTIONS HERE

I tend to censor myself on Facebook because, in my head, I’m certain “Everyone” thinks I’m having a nervous breakdown when I attempt to express myself creatively. Maybe it’s because my mother and I share 107 Facebook friends? Or because Family Members and many Friends Since 8th Grade are there?
It doesn’t really matter since the problem is my own.

To tackle it, about 3 months ago, I started expressing myself emotionally on a [Wordpress] blog and physically, through Karaoke, on my [YouTube] channel…of 20 wonderful followers❣️

Both have been anonymous enough for me to feel free to put words to (writing)- and then exorcise (publishing)- the vicious lies and hateful slurs I didn’t even realize I was telling myself. Since forever.

I’m incredibly grateful to these social media platforms for helping me to rediscover my voice. By providing me with therapeutic outlets for energy and conversations too long suppressed, they’ve served as my freedom fighters, rescuers, and liberators.

So please, Friends, here on Instagram (where I’m a total newbie): if you know me personally, know my family, or have known me a long time, don’t judge me by the words I write. Sharing openly and honestly is a life-preserving activity for me. If I don’t do it, my body makes cancer. And I really don’t want to die! For the first time in a long time, I want to stick around. I’m having so much fun, and I feel like I have cried enough. I’m getting really tired of these tears, my Friends❣️

Please extend me the benefit of the doubt and don’t make any assumptions from my words. Some of my angriest ones could be directed at a disease or a traumatic experience.

I want and need to be my most authentic self for what’s left of This Journey. Having gotten a taste of it, I want to actually BE Jennifer instead of play her on TV. I just can’t play the “role you never knew I was playing” anymore❣️

#socialmedia #selfexpression #honesty #transparency #authentic #authenticity #facebook #conversation #creativewriting #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #womensupportingwomen #women #mentalhealth #breastcancer #traumahealing #vulnerability

With The Back of My Hand:

Or, “A Hannibal Kind of Lust”

—————————

I love you so much that

I’d like to Eat You Alive.

And then wipe your blood off of my mouth

with the back of my hand

that still has

chunks of your hair and scalp

threaded through my fingers.

And later,

after I burp up your digestive juices,

I’ll sleep more soundly

than I ever have before.

—————————

Photo credit: Catalin Pop. Thank you!

Dear Prince Charming

I have a question for you:

WHY DID YOU:

1. Feel compelled to

2. So that you could

3. In order to

4. While simultaneously

5. And refusing to compromise about

6. Only to THEN

7. And STILL insist you “had no choice but to”?

NO, DON’T ANSWER. It’ll probably just piss me off. Why?

1. I happen to think you’re a smug

2. Self-satisfied

3. [Yet] ultimately unsatisfying

4. Judgmental

5. Prick

6. Because

7. You are.

Thank you, Afif Khasuna, for the pboto.

•Miss SmartyHearts and Miss LonelyPants•

Effective immediately: I have officially “put out a shingle” with my latest career effort. Since it won’t bring in a dime, my motivation may be inconsistent, but I’m wiling to put my best foot forward…at least initially.

I have officially begun an “Agony Advice”/“Miss Lonelyhearts”/“Dr. Ruth”/“Erma Bombeck”/“Miss [Dating and Relationship] Manners” column which will be penned by two contributors: Miss SmartyHearts (for matters of the heart) and Miss LonelyPants (for matters of the body).

I’m advising you in advance that this advice of which I will be advising you will be from an unequally rare and rarefied point of view: that of a once-highly intelligent, well-travelled and -educated woman who is now equal parts:

1) Old, 2) Out of Touch, and 3) Immature.

But with good hair & nails and a lovely complexion (if I do say so myself). And of course, a winning enthusiasm and eagerness to advise you of my advice to your queries!

On the rare occasion I do not feel qualified to answer your question with my personal wisdom alone, I will conduct primary research in the form of: first person interviews, mall/bar/date/karaoke “intercepts,” video surveillance, long and irritating telephone surveys, and if necessary, “transferential experience.

TE (copywrite) is a technique I developed after many years of serving in my capacity as a highly-esteemed market research professional (actually one of the best in the business, just ask 3 people I knew in 1996).

TE basically means: if all else fails, and I still don’t know the answer: I will go find out for myself!

And then share My Lessons Learned with all of my Beloved Readers! Because I possess bountiful generosity. Which will drive my desire to provide you with my best advice birthed from 1) my experiences, told from my 2) [again] uniquely qualified, broken down perspective. Always with my signature spunk and stubborn unwillingness to learn from my mistakes❣️

So, feel free to start addressing your queries regarding “matters of the heart” to Miss SmartyHeart and matters of the physical body to Miss Lonelypants (who will try to draw from her long-term memory, so no promises about anatomical accuracy). I only ask that you specify in the Re: line which Expert Miss is the recipient for your inquiry (because these can easily get blurred, difficult to read, and then who knows what kind of answer you’ll get?)

The Misses are also a bit jealous of each other, so if you have a preference, you should ask. If not, those old harpies might both answer your questions!]

And I’ve got to advise you of one last bit of advice:

Begin submitting your burning questions immediately because Miss SmartyHearts and Miss LonelyPants could begin sending letters to each other; and I honestly can’t predict what that might look like.

So you’ve been warned. And, my pledge: I will always bring my 💯 % authentic self and former work ethic to this incredibly humbling responsibility I am agreeing to undertake on your behalf.

Lastly: MEN❣️ You are also welcome to write to the Misses with your burning queries. I will change all names to protect the innocentboth yours, my beloved readers, and all research assistants, interviewees, and participants.

I would suggest you get your money’s worth [especially since it’s free]!

#MissSmartyHeart #MisLonelyPants