Some things just don’t make sense to me. Like no sense at all. Like cussing, for example. When I was a kid, my parents cussed. Not a lot, but these forbidden words slipped out from time to time. Usually, when something was burned or spilled, or a toe was stubbed, that kind of thing. I pretty much do the same thing today. I let a four letter word slip here and there. No biggie, in my opinion. I try not to curse in front of my boys, but there are those oops moments when “shit,” “dammit,” and “fuck” happen to come from my Jersey girl potty mouth. I apologize and tell my kids that mommy will try harder, but I usually don’t. And there’s a very good reason for this. The reason being that I LOVE CUSSING. Like with my whole god damn heart and soul. It just feels so good. Especially when I happen to walk into a wall or burn the same part of my forearm for the 27th time getting the damn dinosaur shaped fake ass chicken nuggets out of the oven. I am forever forgetting to buy that super long oven mitt that goes up to your elbow. I fucking need that. A beautiful friend of mine sent me an Amazon link for one of those months ago, and it really touched me. Now that’s a friend. She cares about me and my perpetually burned arm.

I’m not exactly sure why I decided to write this blog post, but I just know that if my writing is going to be in my voice, which I read about in Mary Carr’s, The Art of Memoir, then it will probably include an expletive now and again. If you haven’t read any Mary Karr, you should. Her “voice” is amazeballs, and the fact that she is a genius writer and human being despite her childhood, is the kind of inspiration that my soul yearns for. A good story of pain, struggle, redemption and freedom. It’s what we humans live for. Our stories and what they make us are a magical thing, in and of themselves. I truly believe that we each have a story to tell, and each story would be vastly different, and yet very much the same.

It is my desire that this blog be an authentic use of my voice. It will not be fancy. It will not be ornate. It will be honest and from my heart, which sometimes like to curse. I guess I just wanted to put it out there in case some folks are offended by such words. If that is the case, then I’m guessing this blog isn’t for you. I know there are those who think cussing isn’t very ladylike (love you mom), but I’ve never been the very ladylike type. And to be honest, I hate the fact that we, as women, are told to be any sort of way besides that which honors the truth of who we really are. The older I get, the more I’m beginning to think I am, indeed, a feminist. I don’t want to be put in a box. I want to live deeply, loudly and truthfully. Who the fuck’s with me? 😉

(yes, I went overboard with the cursing in this post, and no, I’m not sorry;)

P.S. The Liar’s Club is one wild and crazy read. Mary Karr is The Shit.

P.S.S. In 2017, I read a LOT of books by amazing women who had great things to say, and most of them threw in an expletive here and there. I appreciated that, weirdo that I am. I plan on writing an upcoming blogpost highlighting these awesome women, and I’m super excited to share my thoughts on these authors, who have taught me so much.

Have a fucking beautiful weekend! 😉