I remember...

Days of tan skin and chilled white wine
some sandy feet days and grass-stained shorts
of countless words placed on paper
written and typed with my fingers
or read and read over with my eyes
daydreams filled with bright bright brightness
and hope...lots of hope
of long phone calls and longer emails
busy catching up with sleep
and old memories
Days of clear visions and
moving and swaying hips
of organization of this or that
or photos toyed with over and over again
of small responsibilities but large empty pockets
never the matter
cause they were the days...
the days of summer

and now I remember these days
and feel like reversing time
cause these days
are days of white cold skin and red wine ...lots of red wine
to get me through covered feet and chalk-stained pants
of countless words squeezed in just in the nick of time
written by me not when inspired but when forced
and now words written on paper must be inspected for
spelling and context
now my naps are lost minutes of darkness
and I have hope... lots of it for
a Saturday or a Sunday
long gone are the long phone calls
these days I am a professional texter cause
what needs to get said is said
these days I'm busy catching up with this to do list and that other
one over there
oh  and yes, three more left at home
blurred vision greets me in the morning and late at night
and the only swaying that takes place
involves my dead tired body as it drifts off to bed
where disorganization breathes down my neck
every single second
of my day
and my photos-- wait, what photos?
haven't had a moment to snap
responsibilities is what my days start with
and ends with
those empty pockets?
still empty.

But, I remember...
and I won't forget
so this here is why I write
cause these memories need to get off my chest

And I need to get used to these days of present
they are not so bad...
I guess.

So on this note, I'm off to tackle a duty imposed by these here days.
all my love then,
Jenny

P.S. My proof copy is coming.. .. it's in the mail I heard today...! And next week is the Book Fair in Germany which I am attending...how can I then complain, really?
I mean really???!!
;)
x

My Single and Wretched "What If"

Recently, something has come back. It has joined me again and now presently swarms throughout my mind day and night, day and night.

Captain What If is single, determined and wretched. It weighs heavy on my heart, and its answer never reveals itself. It just continues on its miserable journey and pops us unexpectedly. It's all so familiar.

And, by now I should know it always comes back no matter what walls I put up. It crushes them to pieces and renders them worthless.
Laughs at the rubbles.


My what if longs to be "on top of the world" again -always has wanted this- but for now it feels most comfortable in its wretchedness, doubt and worry.

And, thank goodness for the work that keeps me busy day and night. Thank goodness for the hope I have for this Annabelle. Thank goodness for crazy families and steadfast friends. These keep, for moments at a time, ...these keep Captain What If at bay ...at arm's length. For moments, I'm free.

But, don't worry my what if, I have pledged myself to you. You will never leave my side and I yours...until perhaps the day (one could hope) we are both "on top of the world."

Until then, we are joined on this search
and journey.
x

Jenny etc... in the name department.

Last week in my pursuit to promote this little book I wrote, an article was written and posted about me and it in the local paper. The article was perfectly lovely, and it had all the correct quotes with all the sweetest comments. However, what it didn't have was my correct name. In fact, my name was listed as Jenny Martin.

Of course, I was teased. Of course, I was teased some more. Of course, I was teased PERIOD. And, I held it together and laughed it off and tried to find the exact words to examine it all and explain it ( I know I have a plentiful of ands here).

I wasn't sure what exactly was bugging me about it all ( I mean besides the obvious) and then a funny text was sent by my friend. It said," I thought you got married again?!"

haha.

And then I knew what I have always known ... that somehow I have made a mess of my life or at the very least... my names.
You see,
I was born with Jenny Ramirez
in my early twenties, I became Jenny Bingley
that was short- lived
 then, in my late twenties, I became Jenny Hart
and, just recently, after all I've gone through, I am now
 Jenny Ramirez Hart. (not Jenny Martin)

I just don't know how to feel about this all, for it is all for me a bit embarrassing. A bit painful and honestly a bit sad.

But, in the end, what can I do about it really? What can I change about the decisions I've made? What time machine exists?

Clearly, there is nothing I can do, there is nothing I can change and there is most certainly no time machine to climb in and escape away.

I can do nothing but feel okay about it all I suppose--hope to feel at peace with it even if I could someday because it's what I've done, what I have been through and what has made me the person I am today.

 So call me Jenny Ramirez  or Jenny Hart or Jenny Ramirez Hart, Jenny Martin even... all I know is that I am Jenny etc in the name department.. and there is nothing I can do about it... not one thing.

I suppose this is one more reason why I wrote this book for the little Annabelles in the world...who hopefully will be wise in all their years (young and old) and who may always know the right decisions to make and the right actions to take... all the wise and right moves to make.

x

p.s.
Here is the link to said article...(name has been corrected btw)

www.northjersey.com/news/102560429_Writer_tells_young_girls_to_look_within.html

From A- Z on 9/11

Name after name are being read as I type
fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, uncles,
 aunts, sons, daughters, husbands, wives,
cousins, nieces, nephews, friends and more...
much much more

and they all had different eyes, different smiles ...
different faces, different names
these beautiful people

and they all look happy or calm in the
pictures shown for us to see
I think..
they probably all liked different things,
 laughed at different jokes, believed in different ideas,
spoke different languages

all from different backgrounds
and cultures too it seems....

so many differences
all so very different.

BUT what I know is
 they all shed the same blood
on that day

and what I know is
NOW we all shed the
same tears for them


and all I can think as I sit and watch is
when are we all going to learn...?
 when are we all going to realize...?
 that you are like me
and I am like you.

that I have skin that cuts just like yours
blood the color of yours
family who loves just like yours

A heart that hurts just like
yours
I am no different than you; not much more special AT ALL
We are one in the same

Wish all in the world could know this
Wish all in the world could have known
on that day
that hate makes no sense
humans we ALL are and humans
we will always be
regardless of race, color, culture, beliefs, backgrounds and religion
I am like you
and you are like me

Can't you see?

To all those who left us on this day
and to all those who leave us everyday
around the world
in the name of hate...,
I know and I hope
Everyday
 I hope for us, the human race.

The Hidden Plate

My plate is hidden underneath all the lot I placed upon it. I can't even say" I have a lot on my plate" right now and these days because I can't even see this plate, my plate.

I have about ten books sitting on my nightstand still waiting for me to read.
I have about ten more amazing magazines in a basket my thoughtful brother subscribed me to waiting for me to browse.
I have one article waiting for me to write.
One master's class waiting for me to finish so I can start the other two....(frown face)

About 150 students to plan for
and a classroom waiting to complete with all the final touches.
I have a day's worth of research waiting for me to get on to look for places in which I can sign my books or market it nicely.
I have friends who are sweet enough to forgive my cancellations or my lack of calls (you know who you are)
and a wedding that takes place this weekend taken care of by my family (thank you, sis) who for some reason understands.
I have a treadmill ready for running and a waist pleading for me to do so today.
A house that needs some dusting and some tweaking
and more, much much more.

All of this to do. All of this on my plate.
No wonder I broke down in a fit of pathetic tears last night, spewing nonsense left and right. Thank goodness for bad movies, comfortable couches and listening ears ( you know who you are).

All that's left to say now is that this blog is lousy- plain lousy meant only for me to unleash some frustrations

 and all that's left to hope
 is that my family and friends are still around when this whirlwind ends... if it ever does.
Because without you, well, I know I
can't -just can't.

  And that's all that's left to say about this hidden plate of mine.

Wait for me please.
J
x

I am a chest full of drawers.

Some drawers are open and are filled
with many this and thats
These are the top drawers that keep my life
in order and functioning
They may always need to be kept open, and they will
always be kept the tidiest
cause I can control these top
drawers
Like many others, I have compartmentalized these top drawers
into
teacher, student, writer, resident, housekeeper, citizen, sister, friend,daughter, ... you get the picture.

There are other drawers
that I attempt to seal,
but they defeat my attempts every time.
They will close after a while but refuse to seal themselves shut for life
and at times (when least expected) they open
and cause me discomfort and sometimes pain.

I want to control these drawers
and pretend they don't exist.
But no amount of tape or disregard
makes them disappear.

They are located at the very bottom of my chest and
somehow have become the foundation that supports the rest of drawers,
and it if it weren't for the discomfort
or pain they cause when opened,
I wouldn't so much mind them
at all.

But, the fact remains
I am a chest full of drawers
drawers that open and close at their will it seems
and I have no control over
them
not one bit.
so why kid myself

Couldn't sleep last night or this morning cause somethings were bugging me, and I couldn't help but think of these things in this way. Cause when you think about it-- when you really think about it, it makes sense. Our hearts are so big and available to feel so many things at the same time- love, admiration, sadness, contempt, anger...  And these emotions just pop up and appear without a head's up at all, leaving you knowing all over again ...

that you have no control over much regarding the heart.
(sad face)

My best then
 x
Jenny

September welcomed

me
at Newark Airport.

And, she invited Reality, the realistic one of the bunch, to come along.
Apparently, there was a fantastic party happening in which I was the special guest.

At this party, I was greeted by
Mr. & Mrs. Bills
and the Email family- all who shared lots of deadlines
with me that need to be met by tomorrow, Sept 3rd (remember? the one who graciously welcomed me at the airport...well, her third daughter)

Mr. Back- to-School was there as well, and he was hot and sticky.
The Dehydrated Plant family, dry and dull,  met me at the front door
 and intently stared at me until I attended to their needs--jeez...
 what kind of special guest treatment is that.
Oh,
And I almost forgot... Laundry came along too and brought lots of dirty.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
What can I say...
  I am being very silly here and  trying to find some humor in the fact that
I may be experiencing some post-vacation blues perhaps some back-to-school upset...
maybe a dab of why did I add another title to the freelance work?!?! self-doubt
but most of all some of this book is coming- this book is coming rude awakening.

So, there you have it. In my current mess of chores and in my search to find the right words, I can only come up with this little sad tale of a September party.
sorry!

Will try harder next time
or not

Depends on the party guests...
love,
me
Jenny