only the jodi

A search for simplicity, sobriety, compassion, & the right man. Or at least not another wrong man.
August 29th, 2009 by the jodi

yesterday

Yesterday was not my best day.

I wrenched my back opening the kitchen window.
It rained all the way up to the farm.

jodi sh doff : onlythejodi : yesterday : interns

Nicole, Joslyn, Sharon. 100% Cashmere

It was the last day I’d see this semester’s interns, and I’m really going to miss them. The problem with getting the best of something the first time around is nothing else can ever compare.

Your first sweater should never be cashmere, your first car should never be a Mercedes, your first kiss should be his/her first kiss as well.

The farm at Green Chimney’s gave me cashmere. Read the rest of this entry »

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August 28th, 2009 by the jodi

dawn

jodi sh doff : onlythejodi : dawn : erik gecas

erik gecas : hiding from the babylonians

I have some free time now, with the not working and all. I’ve been sorting through the boxes and boxes of “things” that have followed me. Diaries, photos, love letters. The memorabilia of a lifetime.

My sketchbooks are there. I used to draw & sculpt. I was pretty good, got a few awards and as a high school art major I’d thought about going into commercial art. I don’t know why I stopped, why it got dropped by the wayside. I can say it was the drugs and the drinking, but at this point in my life I know that the drugs and the drinking were there to disguise the fear. I didn’t even try to make my way as an artist because I was afraid of the competition, afraid to try.   Read the rest of this entry »

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August 22nd, 2009 by the jodi

mazed and confused

I’m chasing my dreams full speed until I run smack into a solid wall.

I feel like I’ve been here before.

I have.

I envy those kids who knew what they wanted in high school and had a straight path. That hasn’t been my story.

Let’s not even talk about the lost years, they’re called the lost years for a reason. They took their toll and when they were over, I knew I was supposed to be a hand in the dark for some other lost kid to come. I went back to school to become an elementary school teacher and spent a month in Spain, just a month of immersion, to help me learn Spanish. I cried every day. Lonely. Isolated.

I had to go to Spain to discover I was a homebody,
that I needed my peeps to be close enough to touch. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted in Writing | 8 Comments »

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