Remember the kite eating tree from Peanuts? Every spring, Charlie Brown would launch a new kite into the air and every year, that damn tree would eat it.

Sometimes I feel like that tree, only instead of kites flown forever-optimistically by ol' Chuck, it's words that get snatched up. Words that have been flung my way via other eternally optimistic people (aka, my friends/coworkers/readers). Yeah, I may look kind of tree-like while they're talking. Just standing there, or more realistically, sitting there, while they speak. I'm not known for being overly animated in person OR online and it's always been a little frustrating for me. I want people to know that I'm feeling things, whether it's gratitude or seething resentment or simple receptiveness to whatever they're dishing out.

Instead I feel like what they're seeing is Tree Jenny. With a smile on my face and instead of the tail of a kite hanging out of my mouth, it's the tail end of a sentence.

BUT I AM LISTENING. I swear. The words go in one ear and then they stay there, steeping until I have time to really savor them. To pull them out and inspect them. To devour them.

That's one of the blessed curses of ADD. We process things differently. We also don't miss much despite having the appearance of someone who misses e v e r y t h i n g 😉 Ask me what I wore yesterday and I will struggle, ask me what a child on the playground once remarked as she touched my arm and I can repeat it not only verbatim but by god I can still hear her saying it just as clear as the day it happened sometime back in 2006: ooh Miss Jenny your arm feels just like my grandma's Okay so maybe the more traumatic, the more memorable but I digress.

Recently a few people have talked to/at me and I'm not sure they know how much of what they said sunk in. I want them, and therefore you, to know that all of the words made it through and I have been mulling them over.

First up, my bestie told me that I'm stuck. She was referring to my housing situation and also an unfortunate dude situation. I'll be purposely vague about both because 1: the housing thing will be a blog post soon and B: the dude situation is gross and embarrassing. And even though you all know gross and embarrassing is basically what I should have tattooed on my lower back, this one is not worth writing about.

My dear homie, I heard you. And you're right: I am stuck. Apparently when one has been flailing just above water for ages, when it's okay to stop flailing you simply float. And that's kind of where I'm at, and have been, for the past couple of years. Enjoying the scenery and enjoying not fighting to survive.

Being Minnesotan, when the word stuck comes up, the image that pops into my head is that of a car up to its bumper in snow. Funnily enough, when I do get stuck in the snow the first panicky thought I have is ALWAYS this: I'm just going to leave it here until spring.

And that's kind of where I've been.

So I need to unstuck myself. Time to start digging out, time to get moving. Maybe literally? Which provides such a slick segue into the second part of my listening prose...

A few weeks back, there was a party to attend. One of my regulars and I were going to be each other's date, and then, another friend asked if she could tag along. Of course! The more the merrier. We stopped for a cocktail en route to the bash and while we were sipping, this other friend regaled us with story after story about how she had used her voice and told the universe exactly what it was she was seeking. Like, she says it OUT LOUD to the universe, not in her head. She showed us exactly how she did it, using hand gestures and everything and then she proudly proclaimed how it had worked. She'd told the universe what kind of house she and her girls needed, and the house showed up.

"I'm telling you," she said, in a very confident tone, "this shit works."

Well. I'm certainly not one to scoff at shit that works. So, in my own tortoisey way, I've been trying to emulate her universe-speak. It's hard for a quiet introvert (shush, I am too one of those, I swear!) to do something so...verbal. And yet, I'm doing it. I listened to my friend, and now I'm hoping the universe is listening to me.

I walk the dog at an obscenely early hour in the summertime. Work, for me, starts at 6:30 a.m. Monday through Friday so the alarm goes off shortly before 4:00. I chug a cup of coffee, get the running shoes laced up and then Walter leads me on a dark, peaceful tour of our fair city. It's hands down my favorite time of the day (a close second is the splendid cool slide into bed at night) and one that is almost reverent with the silence and nothing but the clicks of the sweet old boy's nails and the soft scuff of my shoes on the sidewalks.

This morning, I talked. I gabbed with the universe. My words sounded foreign at first, echoing off of darkened houses and bouncing on the small pools of light beneath the street lamps. I'll tell you a little of what I told the universe. Not all of it, because maybe this is like that birthday wish you make while blowing out the candles.

"Universe!" I wanted to get its attention, you know. "Universe! Here's what I am looking for." And then I began my small but immense wish list.

I told the universe that more than anything I want a home. I want a place with a yard and with a cute kitchen and with at least two windows in my bedroom so I can get a sweet cool breeze on spring and fall nights. I want room for whichever kid needs a soft place to land and I want a backyard for Walter or whichever good boy comes next. And a porch, universe. Oh man. I want a porch.

And I'll be really honest with you...I figured as long as I had the ear of the entire universe, it was time to go big or go home.

I told the universe that I love our house right now. And that if it (the universe) was in a giving sort of mood, maybe some magic planet realignment could make my wildest dreams come true and make that my forever home.

Yep. Told ya I went big. I went implausible and let's face it, most likely impossible, but what the hell. How often do you get to walk around a city before dawn, barking out wishes like a lunatic carny?

I don't know if the universe heard me, but I do know for sure that the guy enjoying a cigarette out in his driveway at 5:01 on a Tuesday morning sure did. Let's see if he has any pull.

Oh and there was one more time I listened recently: when one of you sent me a message. Actually, many of you have reached out over the past couple of years, since I've gone radio silent here on the old blog. Some of you have been subtle, gently inquiring, wondering if there will ever be fresh words here again. But one of you sweet humans were way more direct. Via instagram, a private message that read, in part:

where are your posts and blogs about the hell that is divorce and life afterwards? I need/miss them.

This one was loud and it was clear as crystal.

I'm listening.

And I'm back.


  1. I love your posts. Please don't stop blogging! ♥

    1. Thank you!!!! I am going to try and keep it going with consistency. It's good for the soul.

  2. I type letters to the universe on my laptop. Just saying.

    I'm not suggesting you're crazy talking to yourself. I'm saying that way, there is a written record.

    1. Oh girl. There's no denying the crazy! LOL. I do like the idea of having it in writing. Maybe I can do one of those voice to text apps and do BOTH ways of communicating with the universe!

      BTW I did a universe shout out while I drove to work this morning :)

  3. Keepit up! We love reading your funny, sad, inspiring words ♥️

  4. Lazarus! Good to hear from you again.

    1. HA!!! I guess that's about it! Good to be heard again Sarah! Thank you for being here.

  5. I follow your FB page, but I have missed your musings here; please continue!

    1. Well...welcome, GeorgiaGirl! Glad to have you here. It's less memes and more me. LOL.

    2. Duh I read that wrong. You've been here and missed it. Gotcha. I am slooooow with the comprehension this morning!

  6. "I told the universe that more than anything I want a home." I tell the universe that a lot these days, but haven't tried it out loud. I will try tomorrow morning when I take my dog for a walk! Here's the ironic thing (that my daughter keeps reminding me)...I was really happy to get into a rental at first. After the divorce, I stayed in the house for a few years. At first, it was all good. But then the ex stopped paying the mortgage on a regular basis. I got sick and tired of knocks at the front door and notes left saying that foreclosure was imminent. It was so stressful worrying that this place that I owned could be taken away. Finally, I caved in and sold. There wasn't enough left to buy a new place after the sale, so now I rent. I thought it would be better...if I can't pay the rent, then I move out. (The worst would be paying the rest of the lease.) I could live in my camper as long as it wasn't winter. (Did I mention that I live in the mountains of Colorado?) Now I am going on year 3 of renting. I haven't put anything up on the walls and the garage is still full of boxes. I still have furniture in the garage that won't fit in the new condo. And here's the thing I've come to remember from my youth...renting sucks!!! I just want my own place. One where if I get a stain on the carpet or make a scratch on the fridge or a dent in a door, then it's up to me whether or not it's worth fixing/replacing instead of freaking out that the landlord is going to kick us out because we've "trashed" his place! Anyway, this is a long way of saying that I can relate!! And I am so glad you are writing here again! Thank you!

    1. Oh Michelle. It took me YEARS to get stuff on the walls in our current place! I've been renting 9 years now and am so ready to have a place of my own. It's really hard though...the housing market here in Mpls. is wild. You have to go pretty far out of the city (or really deep into it) to find much that's affordable for lower income people.

      To be honest with you, a camper in the mountains of Colorado sounds kinda dreamy!

      Thank you for being here.


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