Archive for the General Category

A Sober Look at a Sobering Horizon. 

Posted in Freeze Tag, General, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on January 1, 2017 by jezzywolfe

I didn’t drunk blog for the new year. I could have. Maybe I should have. There was a bounty of beverages, after all. img_3735-1

But, after year upon year of suck, turmoil, and heartbreak, just maybe I need a different routine.

Am I saying it’s my fault we’ve had such a bad year? I don’t know. Depends on how superstitious you are. No, I’ve never eaten the correct foods, or made resolutions, or toasted at the stroke of midnight, or tickled a wallaby’s left armpit. So maybe the bad is on me.

Or maybe that’s just how the cards fell.

It was a hard political season. We are many who are apprehensive at the future of our society. Frustrated by what we perceive as a breakdown of ethics and morality…largely under the very false flag of returning to some kind of ‘God fearing’ nation. A nation that is greedy and tight-fisted and polluted with hate and ignorance. And people seem to think that’s godly? Um, no. Hell no. Fuck off with that noise. Please, oh please call me a liberal. Because if that’s what conservative means, I want to be NOTHING like you.

So, in light of this new chance at another orbit, I’ve decided to start it right. I ate a proper meal. I decided not to blog buzzed…heck, I’m a dork anyway, the alcohol doesn’t change that. And I am making resolutions. Not ‘actual’ resolutions, because we all know the flop that follows those. These are choices. Choices are not lofty goals we hope we can reach, but the shift of mindset that allows them to be realities.

My first choice is to be strong. We are all here together. I throw the word ‘love’ around loosely, but I am sincere. I love the people in my life. And I choose to be stronger for them, in the hope that my strength will give them encouragement. With that strength needs to be courage. We have a fight ahead of us, and we can no longer cower or bury our heads. You are all sisters and brothers to me, regardless of your race or ethnicity or religion, and it is my responsibility to stand by you when they try to tear us down. This is not a safety pin. This is my arms. This is my heart. And every one of you are safe with me.

My second choice is to be industrious. This year will likely bring about career changes, and I’m scared about what that means. But I have to move forward, for the sake of my family, my fuzzy babies, and my peace of mind. This applies to my aspirations as a writer, as well. I’ve accomplished some milestones recently. It’s time to follow them through.

My third choice is to be disciplined. I’ve fallen off track with my self care. It’s time to rectify that. I’m happier and clear headed when I’m physically active. I need to find that part of me again, and dig in. It will also allow me to remove clutter. There is so much clutter around me. So much useless material I don’t need. It overwhelmed and paralyzed me. And it’s time to make it history.

My fourth choice is to be present. Life comes and goes rather abruptly, as we have all witnessed this past year. You get one life, and one chance to carve it out. Daydreams are fun, but they’re fruitless. They keep me back from all that I could accomplish. It’s time to appreciate what’s in front of me now, as I have it. My family, my adoring ferrets, my irreplaceable friends. I don’t want to waste the moments we have here.

My fifth choice is to be optimistic. Because I’m not. I’m terrified of the unknown, and apprehensive to the point that I sabotage myself. No longer do I want to miss opportunities. No longer do I want to start my days worried about what can go wrong. When you live that way, the things that go right are barely a glimmer mired in your dustbin. I will not live in trepidation or nihilism any longer.

Who cares what is on the horizon? Lesser people interfered, and now we all face the dubious consequences.  But I am here. You are here. We are standing side by side on the same cliff. We face the same outstretch of sea. You know what’s beautiful about that?

Every. Single. Sunrise.

I am spending this year looking forward to every one that I get to spend with you.

Be kind. Be safe. Be brave. I got you.



The Face I’m Stuck With, Unapologetically.

Posted in General with tags , , , , , on May 18, 2016 by jezzywolfe

I’ve become one of those women who posts a LOT of selfies on my Facebook. Sure, I refrain from ‘ducking it up’, but still, I cringe when I think of the impression I’m making on my audience. I’d like to think I have sound rationale behind my blatant social media narcissism. Doesn’t everybody?

Up until a couple years ago, I did not post current pictures of myself. If anyone tried to take a picture of me…friends, family, you name it…I protested. Loudly. Usually with threats of bodily harm. I was absolutely terrified. I was afraid I’d have to see me as they saw me. And that what they saw no longer resembled who I used to be. Who I still see in my mind when I study my reflection. 

My weight changed. I’d gotten older. The features I used to think might be considered attractive, disappeared behind the face of a middle-aged, heavy set, completely unimpressive woman. When I went anywhere, I realized I’d become fairly invisible amidst the crowds. No one sought me out. No one noticed anymore. 

I disappeared.

Focusing on writing allowed me to forget that, sooner or later, I’d emerge from my cocoon, only to discover that I stopped paying attention to my appearance. And while that sounds perfectly acceptable, (and for most, it IS perfectly acceptable), for me, it was a heartbreaking disappointment. But before you brand me completely superficial, hear me out.

My experience in middle school was a continuous nightmare lived out over the course of two years. Pure torture. Puberty didn’t just hit- it beat me to a pulp. Imagine an entire school ripping into you day after day. Calling you cruel names. Whispering behind your back. Thrusting you into the center of all their jokes. You were THE school reject. It sounds so petty now. But after so much time spent humiliated and betrayed time and again, I entered high school completely terrified. I was crippled by insecurity. 

All I wanted was to be liked. To have friends. To not be ‘Pizza Face’ for the next four years of my education. I wanted as much distance from the girl that everyone hated as I could get. So I hid. I hid behind a curtain of heavy hair. I hid behind a desperately applied mask of makeup ANYTIME I left my house. That meant at least an hour every morning just piling that shit on. It wasn’t that I was trying to look “pretty”. It wasn’t that I enjoyed the feel of all that gunk seeping into my pores. Or the expense of carefully budgeting my money so I wouldn’t run out of makeup. As you can imagine, that would’ve been a true crisis for me.

But I just wanted to look normal. You know, normal as in ‘unexceptional, but still not freakishly plagued by bad skin’. I should have been grateful for big blue eyes, and naturally straight teeth. But I couldn’t get past my skin. And I didn’t think anyone would accept me for what I was. 

Flawed. Human. 

“So, what’s with all the stupid selfies, Jezzy?”

Even as an adult, I still don’t have perfect skin. And now, just to make it that much more fun, I have crows feet, laugh lines, those creases between my eyebrows from squinting in the sunlight. I look older. I’ll admit, I may not look quite my age, but I definitely look closer to my age than I used to. And while that shouldn’t matter, and maturity should have graced me a certian amount of self assurance, I am still that terrified woman who looks at her image and only sees the signs of time. I don’t see past the wrinkles and gray hair. I can’t see past the scars left by so many years of chronic skin troubles.

I warn people all the time, I am so far from perfect. I constantly complain about being ugly. Most times, I am told that I’m not ugly. That I should take them at their word that I’m a reasonably attractive individual. I want to be able to see that in myself. But I’m regretting too many things that are beyond my control.

I regret the loss of youth. Even though we all lose that, regardless of what we do.

I regret the loss of physical awareness. I allowed my weight to escape me, and now finding that smaller me is a serious struggle.

I regret, perhaps most of all, that I never learned to appreciate the qualities I did possess before I woke one day to realize they were long gone. And that, had I realized how fleeting it all was, I could’ve been comfortable in my own skin. I could’ve been that girl who was confident. 

Imagine how successful I could have been, if I didn’t constantly see myself as a requisite failure.

This is me today. This photo is not filtered. I wear makeup, yes, but I no longer need a mask of it. And maybe I’m no Olivia Wilde or Scarlett Johansson, but I’m not grotesque. I take the selfies to learn to accept who I am, and who I am no longer. I post the selfies to show people that I am willing to put myself out there. I’m willing to be more than just a name on a screen. I am willing to let you see that while I’m not perfect, I am real. 

And I am not a duck.


WARNING: This Post is Full of Marmosets. Pretty Cool, Right?

Posted in General, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 1, 2016 by jezzywolfe

When it is all said and done, what everyone will remember is I FORGOT TO BUY THE RIGHT BEANS!

How do you do that? Seriously? I stood in that store, thinking ‘How lucky is FullSizeRender(1)it they actually have a four pack of my lucky beans?’ In reality, that was only a lucky four pack if I was looking into some home loved version of a burrito. Don’t ask. It makes sense in my head. That’s all that matters.

I’m 15 shots in to the evening. Plus half a vodka beverage. I figure 16 shots is good. Don’t you? You figure, right? Yeah. We all do. It’s what we have in common. But you know what we don’t have in common? Leprosy. And that’s good, cause hella contagious. We’d have to start our own colony. But it’s okay, because I like you. If you want to start a colony, I’m totally down for that.

So anyway,  bought the wrong beans. I said, this year, I was taking no chances. I’d be following all the proper protocoals. The correct beans. Proper ham. Appropriate intoxication. 2016 would roll in with some big-ass approval, and I’d be making. Last year, it could have destroyed me. Sure. You’ve been through worse. But I’m a wimp, and it was bad enough. No more, please and thank you. I survived it, and ‘fuck you, universe’, for trying to wreck my train. It will take far more than you (or even you) to bring me off.

Somehow, I think that’s a bad participle.

IMG_2214Will I resolve anything? Fuck no! Do any of us, ever? We thrive on drama and pain. It’s true. Don’t be a fucknut here. Pull your head out of denial’s ass and see for yourself. We ARE Shirley Manson’s brain waves. I love her. Shoutout! But really, think about it. Life is boring when it’s good. We don’t recognize the good, even when it’s honey glazed and steaming on a fucking gold leafed platter. 24 karat perfection, and we are looking for the flawed gemstone in the crown.

But it’s not because we are emo hogs. I’m not. Neither is she. The reality is, we don’t grow when there is only light. We wither under too much warmth. Rain, pain, all that guts us, isn’t that what teaches us to grow? Not because we are smart enough to see that shit for what it is, but because, in hindsight, we get it. Rear view, bitches. We emerge the tumbled obsidian in some hippy’s hemp choker. And that’s okay. That shit’s beautiful! You go, with your shiny, black self. You’d look great on my finger. Just saying.

I looked at the end of this year with incredible dread. I hate ends. Even FullSizeRenderwhen it’s the end of a very bad thing. 2015…well, it wasn’t a great ting. But still, I didn’t look forward to ending it. And now, it’s a new year. There are no imminent apocalypses. BORING. But also, anti-climatic. I miss a good Mayan/Hopi prophesy, don’t you?! When it was one of those ‘piss or get off the pot’ scenarios? But with banderos?

Do or die. And we all did. Most of us didn’t die. Hemingway was loving it. I don’t know why, exactly. But he was. I might be loving it. I can’t tell.

Shot #16. One for every year this century has fucked me. I’m still standing. A little wobbly, sure, but alcohol. I’ll be standing when the sun comes back up. And most of you will, too. Unless you’re really hung over, in which case, HA! But not because I’m mean. I’d still give you a hug. I like you. Really. If you only liked me half as much, we’d be golden. Maybe, one day, you will.

In the meantime, I won’t resolute. I will drink responsibly. Meaning, when I drink, I’ll be serious about that shit. (And, no, I will NOT drive.) I have some goals for myself, and they will be good ones. They have to do with finishing a novel. Possibly a short story collection, too. AND ever a poetry collection. Why not? I sometimes string words in unexpectedly coherent ways.

And you thought you were the only ones.

So, here’s shot #16. My goal was not to be able to remember tonight. I’m getting close. I need relief. My heart beats too hard for this. Sometimes the palpitations leave bruises under my skin. Here’s to feeling less, at least for just a little while.

All my love to you. Stay strong. Your light always makes a difference to me.




My Life is an Adventurous Tale of Wonderment, High Blood Pressure, and Adventurous Adventure.

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , on May 15, 2013 by jezzywolfe
Josh Kathy Street cropped

Looks like someone beat me to the rabbit hole! Photo of Josh courtesy of Kathy Street.

So after all that, you’re expecting the follow-up to Alice and the Rabbit Hole, right?

Sorry.  The only holes I can speak of – other than my financial debts – are the crazed people sucking craters in Floriduh.  And you can read about that for yourself on any nefarious news blog.  The only news you will find here is the ever-developing tale of my life via 2013.  And boy howdy, it’s a page turner!

Let me first apologize for daring to use the phrase ‘boy howdy’.  I promise to never do that again.  What the hell was that?!  I’m not even sure I typed it, but there it is.  So sorry.

January started off incredibly unapocalyptic, and pretty normal.  I was on a mission to purchase the shop I was managing.  That was to be my goal for the year.  But despite all the ‘you can do its’, turns out I really couldn’t do it.  Come mid March, I was looking at a completely blank page in the next chapter of my life.  Desperation kicked in, but this time it was that really smart kind of desperation I don’t usually experience.  Whackadoodle.

So I enrolled in college.  Literally that fast.  One day I was a frame shop manager, the next day I was a student.  I spent an evening prowling the online campus job resources, and pinpointed my destination and degree.  I was steering towards a future in technical writing.  (Which could also qualify me for other writing and editing jobs, so that felt like a smart choice for me.)  As of now, I have successfully completed the orientation course, and after some final paperwork and financial aid matters are situated, I will be starting my first class with University of Phoenix this summer.  And I feel really good about my decision.

Meanwhile, I am unemployed.  Gah!  I have been sending out my resume, and with my experience, not too many places were unhappy to receive it.  But this nightmare economy means no one is in a position to take on a well-experienced framer, no matter how good she is.  There are actually customers who are in need of framing right now, that are choosing to wait until I’m hired somewhere else before they have any more framing done.  I do appreciate their loyalty.  At times, I really do regret that I couldn’t save the shop.  But now I’m being optimistic.  I could never achieve such a career – much less the financial stability it affords – if I stayed in the frame shop.  Surviving at the mercy of a fickle, struggling economy.

I had to move on.

BG Carol Owens smaller

This fuzzy knows a thing or two about staying on his toes! Photo of BG courtesy of Carol Owens.

As I wait for school and a new job to begin, other dilemmas surface to keep me on my toes.  My oldest ferret, Beelzebub, had a large tumor that needed to be surgically removed.  I’m still paying for the operation, but you can barely see his scar now.  So that was a scare I’m happy to have behind me.  And my mother is an ongoing saga that has kept me very busy the past three weeks.  She was in a hospital for a week and a half (after being in and out of another hospital for the previous month) and now she is in a nursing facility.  For now, she is there for rehabilitation, but if she doesn’t improve on physically caring for herself, she might well be going back into a facility for long term treatment.  It’s a huge change for me, because I’ve had my mom with me since my oldest son was born.  No matter what happens, I hope she will start taking better care of herself so she may enjoy the remainder of her life with happy memories and warm surroundings.  It’s a chapter that’s just beginning for us both.

With so much going on, I haven’t had a lot of time for writing.  I haven’t had much time for networking, either.  And there were literally cobwebs on my blog when I signed in to make this post.  I have been at the nursing home almost every day since my mom was admitted.  Watching the staff with a close eye, cause there will be the occasional slip-ups… such as giving my mom ice cream, even though she’s extremely lactose intolerant.  It’s a constant stress, because if I’m not there watching out for her, I feel guilty.

fat boy cropped sarah doe

Now THAT’S one helluva of a nap! Fat Boy photo courtesy of Sarah Doe.

But I am so tired.  Both physically and emotionally.  And the only thing I am inspired to write about is a nap.  But not just any nap, oh no.  This nap would rival even the greatest naps of all time!  And it would include  a sleep number mattress and a fat, cuddly ferret.  That would be one hell of a fantastic nap.

Don’t worry.  I will be back.  I’ll get through this and kick back into writing gear with a vengeance.  And there will be stories.  Boy howdy, will there be stories!

Well damn.  Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t make that promise a resolution.  #BoyHowdyFAIL

The Countdown To… Ooooh, So Spooky!

Posted in General, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on December 7, 2012 by jezzywolfe

Color me surprised that the TV is not currently stuffed with doomsday shows right now.  Or color me inattentive.  Have they been shoving those theories on us lately?  I wasn’t paying attention.

Perhaps the world is ending when I can be equally entertained by bearded duck call makers, and dancing girls with their crazed moms.  But sadly, television may be the only real art left for us.  Tonight, the pathetic crap formerly known as ‘music’ struck a nerve ending.  The song spoke of how ‘bands make her dance.’  Oh god, really?  That’s the chart topper at a time like this?  When the world could possibly topple into the dark abyss of a riftey hole, the critics give me “Turn on the Lights”?  PLEASE turn them on, so I don’t have to hear him asking 5.75 times an hour!  And these are the last songs we will ever hear?  Now THAT’S depressing.

Is this how we celebrate humanity and what we’ve accomplished in the last 5,125 years?  With over-produced samples of Rhianna and auto-tune?  With shows dedicated to the stockpiling nutjobs perpetrating this insane fear that everyone is afraid to admit they feel, and therefore lamely joke about?

If so, we are seriously at risk of becoming our own Atlantis.  And you better damn well hope the only survivors aren’t the dipshits hiding out in bunkers…

Here we are at T-minus 14 days, and there was a time I thought for sure I’d be in sheer panic by now.  But really, I am very unconcerned.  Come on.  The end of an old-ass calendar is no more ominous than the end of every single 12 month calendar we tear through.  By the way, friends, that galactic alignment everyone is getting so nervous about?  Yeah, been there, done that… in 1998.  Look it up.  Did the world end then?

No, but Gateway Computers managed to take me for a ride and screw up my credit.  A word to the wise, on the cusp of an age of enlightenment, please be enlightened enough to read all the fine print before you sign any contract.

There!  We are all suddenly that much wiser.  Took me all of 10 seconds to type that sentence, too.

Welcome to the Golden Age!  You can thank me later.

“There’s Jackalope In Them There Blog!”

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 6, 2012 by jezzywolfe

Shouldn’t the plural form of jackalope be… jackaleepe?

One plus one equals “HOLY CRAP!”

When I was a child and people asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I never replied with ‘Ballerina’ or ‘Lawyer’ or ‘Pharmaceutical Technician’.  I looked them square in the eye (sorta) and said, “I want to write stories about bacon and jackalopes.”

I can finally say that YES, I have achieved my Everest.  Because UNNATURAL TALES OF THE JACKALOPE has been released.  Right now it is available for Kindle (paperbacks are out soon) and it can be found HERE.

But you may be thinking, “What IS a jackalope?”

UNNATURAL TALES OF THE JACKALOPE, Western Legends Publishing’s debut anthology.

A jackalope is a nefarious perplexity of mythos junk-punching zoology with a rubber mallet.  It’s pretty damn impressive.  It lulls you with the big round ‘come hither’ eyes, and then steals your whiskey and eats your babies.

But I could be wrong about that.  Its eyes may actually be more ovular, rather than round.

UNNATURAL TALES OF THE JACKALOPE includes 18 stories, a letter, and a poem of pure unadulterated horror!  And jackalopes.

Every single one of these selections are based on true stories that really did happen to the completely fictitious characters.  It’s like a rollercoaster of something rollercoastery.  This jank is all jacked up!

This is the first imprint from Western Legends Publishing, founded by the talented John Palisano, who is also UTOTJ’s editor.  The table of contents includes peyote tinged goodies from authors Jeff Strand, Sèphera Girón, Rick Pickman, Rachel Towns, Kristi Petersen-Schoonover,  Brenda Knutson,  Michael Bailey,  Jack Horne,  David J. West,  Eric S. Grizzle,  Aaron J. French,  D.T. Griffith,  Erik Williams,  Abbie Bernstein,  Matt Kurtz,  Misty Dahl,  Fawn,  Dean M. Drinkel,  Mike McCarty, and myself.

Jackalopes have brought a constant scourge of fear and perspiration to the American Southwest.  In fact, rebel youth actor James Dean’s last words were, “Holy hellfire, wh—”   While we may never know the end of that sentence, I’m pretty damned sure it had something to do with a jackalope.  And if that’s not enough to give your heebies the jeebies, then I don’t know what.

Zippered Flesh: Tales of Body Enhancements Gone Bad!

Posted in General, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on April 29, 2012 by jezzywolfe

In February, new upstart SMART RHINO PUBLICATIONS released their first anthology, ZIPPERED FLESH: TALES OF BODY ENHANCEMENTS GONE BAD! Edited by Smart Rhino’s Weldon Burge, Zippered Flesh is a truly creepy montage of the sick, twisted, and modified.

Oh, and it includes my story, Locks of Loathe. So there’s that.

But check out the lineup of authors also included. Graham Masterton, Michael Laimo, Scott Nicholson, to mention only a few… there’s a veritable plethora of fantastic voices in this book! I mean, seriously, how often do I say ‘plethora‘?

Pick up your copy today at a fantastic price!