I was born in Wilson, North Carolina and if you asked me to tell you something about Wilson I would come up empty handed. Well, at first I would. Then I would google a little and tell you that Wilson is home to North Carolina’s first ABC store!

Yay booze! [Read more...]

I… I can’t even really put this into words. I feel like the clouds are finally parting and there’s some freakin’ sunshine in my life. Seriously, I have never felt more productive and whole and just… like something is finally pulling me instead of me fucking fighting and pushing my way through life.

This is a beautiful feeling. God, I want to bottle it and sell it and make millions but since I can’t, this video will suffice. It’s incredible. I know nothing of the two people in the video, I guess they’re a band or something? But seriously… Can you imagine how fucking incredible that must have been? And what a fucking metaphor! Shedding that which protects us and keeps us warm and comfortable and physically thrusting ourselves outward into a world that is scary and cold and unpredictable.

Good feelings abound. Like little ribbons, curling in the breeze around me…

My only complaint is that the bitch gets hit by a bus in the end. HA! Let’s hope that’s not how my story ends.

The boy child is coming into his own, lately. Turning his back on his cute matchy-matchy pajamas, he’s opting to sleep in his underwear lately. It’s such a man thing to do. I mean, he doesn’t look like a man — thin legs lurching out of bitty boy manties and a little bird chest and round belly. [Read more...]

I hate shaving my legs.

Loathe it. So much, in fact, that I am hoping that the man I end up with is some kind of new-age hippie that doesn’t give two shits if I’ve got hairier legs than him.

I  mean, they’re not THAT bad. It’s not like I’ve got enough hair on my legs to shear and weave into a sweater or something. I just hate shaving. [Read more...]

“When you turn sixteen, I’m going to ride your butt about really knowing what the driving laws are, kid.”

He nods at me from the backseat, nose in a book, as per usual.

We sat at a red light behind a moron for what felt like fifteen minutes today. It’s an intersection where the road we’re traveling on dead ends into another road. There isn’t a green arrow, but when you’re turning right, there’s about a three minute span where you can turn right because the traffic there has a green arrow turning left. I gave him a little polite, toot-toot of the horn and he didn’t even budge. He wasn’t even pulled up enough to be able to SEE to turn into traffic. Then, all the cars behind me were laying on the horn.

GO, ASSHOLE!

I love driving in Atlanta. [Read more...]

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

I don’t think I’ve ever really be one to be called fearful, but truth be told, I am scared on the regular. [Read more...]

Rather than rip the bandaid off quickly, minimizing the build up to the trauma, I’m an avoider. I’d rather just soak in the tub and the the bandaid fall off, on his own… Find him floating on the surface of the water, relaxing in the bubbles, much like myself.

I don’t do breakups very well. I tend to avoid the elephant in the room as long as possible. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m super honest. It’s not that I lie, per se, or even sugar coat things. I convince myself that I want to be SURE and totally certain about my decision before I divulge any of my intentions.

I’m working on it.

Also, my Saturn is in return — or some such nonsense. It’s a time to finally reap the benefits from the last several years of struggling. I’m sloughing off the dead skin and hoping to reveal a new, fresh Jami. A Jami with skin that is pink and rosy and soft and vulnerable.

Contrary to popular belief, I’m a real fucking softie. [Read more...]

Friday night, I participated in Ian Belknap’s genius show, WRITE CLUB. (Examples of a previous show here.)

WRITE CLUB is described as, “blood sport for the squeamish… bare-knuckled lit.”

Basically, six combatants square off in pairs with assigned opposing topics. Think: Fight Club, but instead of bloodying each other with our fists, we read our essays aloud to a captivated audience and the winner is determined by audience applause.

It was [dramatic pause] incredible. I’m not kidding. This was the first sort of reading I had ever done and I could not have asked for a more perfect evening.

Also, I beat Ian Belknap. *puffs chest* Ian wrote about light and I wrote about dark.

Undeafeated, thus far, I look forward to another WRITE CLUB at PushPush Theater soon. Hopefully, it can be a once a month gig. SO fun.

It was videotaped and, as soon as I get the word on it’s location once it’s uploaded, be certain I’m going to pimp the SHIT out of it.

For now, here’s my essay: [Read more...]