Screw the Filters

Writing your honest story can be a rocky mental path to take. When I first started blogging, I went the anonymous route. I never had to worry if anyone I knew might be reading my posts. I didn’t concern myself with thoughts about if this person might think that I was referring to him / her or that that person might pick up on the reality that yes I actually was calling him / her out as a total jackass. And even though I could be brutally honest from that black box, I felt wildly disingenuous. I felt like I couldn’t possibly be writing my honest truth if I couldn’t own the words in front of real people in my life. So I shared my writing with a few people and then a few more and ultimately many people started reading my posts. At first I was okay with that, but as more time passed, I found myself editing the entries in my mind long before I even began to type the first word. My comfort level with regard to speaking my own unsavory truths has become paper thin. I just don’t want to rock the boat on my already tumultuous seas. To put it another more delicate way, I already have enough shit to deal with and have no interest in adding more to the therapy heap.

If you’ve been following my mental meanderings for months or years, you have probably noticed that I sometimes disappear from the blogosphere for several months at a time. In the past, this has stemmed from a lack of time or straight up writer’s block. But that’s not what has been happening to me lately. I am busy as all get out, but there have been stories and inspiration to spare. The problem is that I am so concerned about hurting someone’s feelings, overstepping my bounds, or saying the wrong thing that my mental edits have been leaving the remaining words with a dull hollow ring. The raw emotion is stripped away, and I leave myself with puddle deep platitudes.

I’m tired of running circles in my mind about the imaginary thoughts of others. I’m over worrying about if someone might misread what I’m saying or, even worse, might not misread my words. For better or for worse, I have been given this voice and the call continues to throb in my mind. My mental censors have been on overdrive for too long and I’m utterly sick of it. I’m going to write whatever I want to write and no one else has to read it. If it offends you, read something else. If you think it’s about you, you’re probably wrong, but maybe ask yourself why you think that or, more importantly, DON’T. Don’t worry about it. These are my ramblings. They aren’t about you. This is about me. My crap. My issues. My journey. It’s the Jo Show and there’s enough happening in my one woman circus without bringing in additional side acts to manage. I’m over the silence. I’m tired of the gag. Screw the filters. It’s time to write again.

Another Sexy-time Fun Mom Weekend

I pulled my head out from under the covers a few minutes ago. I wanted to stay there, but who has time for that kind of shutdown?

Please note that I wasn’t there because I was sleeping nor was sexy-time on the books. I actually got out of bed hours ago because I needed to make breakfast, do some cleaning, and ideally have a little family time. Unfortunately the family that decided to join me for that time (my own) was irritating the crap out of me, so I ended up extricating myself from the area due to safety concerns for all within my range.

Upon returning to my own room, I immediately found myself dealing with unexpected calls and texts from the outside world regarding outside world craziness. Apparently madness knows no bounds. My husband and I barked at each other momentarily in response to all that (which never ceases to be ironic because we are rarely truly mad at each other about the outside insanity but rather just stressed in general about scenarios neither of us can fix). Following our scrappy moment, he left the room and I proceeded to climb back into bed and pull the covers over my head like I was hiding from a vampire (that has lived under my bed for decades waiting to strike if I mistakenly happen to leave a toe exposed outside of my blanket as I fall asleep) (because apparently this vampire has a thing about toes but not actual heads / necks) (yes it’s weird, okay???).

Does anyone else do this? Something childish and ridiculous like literally putting the covers and pillows over your head in a futile attempt to turn it all off for a few minutes? Truth be told, I would greatly prefer blasting music to literally drown out the noise with a louder better rhythmic beat. Unfortunately that would simply call the aforementioned housemates (a.k.a. my children) to me like rump shakin’ rats to an inappropriate hip-hop and 90s rap playing pied piper.

I. Need. Space.

But too bad for me. There’s crap to do, and times a-wastin’.

So here I am. Newly emerged from the covers once more and tapping away to write this post on my phone in a desperate attempt to syphon off some of my excessive irritation and overall overwhelmed everything that is circling furiously around my brain. But even that has to stop because, as I said previously, I got shiznet to handle.

Hopefully you, too, will find your way out of the covers. Best of luck on your own sexy-time weekend plans. Peace out.


My Savings

Another new poem for the book…


I stocked up on cheap shirts

And tons of new tank tops.

The shoe racks had discounts

Even on cool high tops.

I bought enough makeup

To earn me that free gift.

Jeans and skirts for half price.

My bags too full to lift!

I’ve saved so much money

And know now without fail,

My shopping has ended.

But what’s that there? A sale!

– Jo Price 😉

A Million to One

My daughter has been asking me to write a book that she could then illustrate. I have half a dozen book ideas bouncing around my brain, but poems feel more like her style. I’m looking forward to seeing the fun collection my little artist and I can create together. Here’s the first poem that I am comfortable sharing. These are aimed at kids, but there are winks for adults, too. I just started these today, so the artwork is still in progress. ☺️


Some people will tell you,

Don’t bother to start.

A million to one chance

That you’ll get the part.

Don’t waste your time writing.

Just put down that pen.

Don’t spend your years wishing

For dreams with no end.

Set free all of your hopes.

Just let each one go.

There’s no point in trying.

Stick with status quo.

But don’t you dare listen.

It’s your path to walk.

Their words have no power.

It’s only just talk.

Real magic can happen

If you join the dance,

‘Cause no matter the odds,

There’s always a chance!

– Jo Price

Never forget that impossible is not the same as improbable. Even the most unlikely of odds still means that it can happen. Aim for greatness and follow your dreams. Always. ❤️

One Minute Challenge and Hours of Anxiety

dragonfly tree - IG

A friend sent me a link for a photography contest. Although I’m the noobiest of photography noobs, I couldn’t resist checking it out. Upon looking at the rules, I noticed that one of the requirements was submitting a one minute video about yourself. So I thought about it. One minute to describe myself. One minute to sell my purpose and my vision. One minute to catch somebody’s attention and show them what I have to bring to the artistic table.

And the mere contemplation of the idea of trying to convey any of those elements absolutely terrified me.

I know what I love and what I enjoy. I recognize what I dream of for my family and what I wish for in my life. But I feel like I am hovering between two realities – a split personality with dramatically different approaches at life.

There’s the practical pay the bills get the job done persona, but there’s also the artist dreamer wisher side as well. It’s as if the left and right sides of my brain have taken up arms against each other and neither is willing to back down.

So when I have to think about sharing who I am and what I want, I feel deeply conflicted. It’s a question of what I should and have to do versus what I want and whom I wish to be.

I want both worlds, and I am both of those personalities. I just don’t know if one side ultimately has to win out over the other. In the immortal words of Jeff Goldblum, life finds a way.

For now I can tell you that I have such great anxiety at the mere thought of making a video that my neck and chest are literally covered in hives. Maybe I should just start with finding a nice oversized scarf to mummify my torso in and then go from there.

Serenity now. Serenity now…

😉  Jo

Reclaim Your Power — An Awe Inspiring Message

This is indescribably powerful. Take a quick break and watch this for YOU. If she can say these things and feel this way and live life to the fullest, we all can. We are never shattered beyond repair. You’ve so got this!

Absolutely incredible post Ms. Leeds. Truly.

Even if we haven’t had this type of trauma in our lives, we’ve all had trauma that we feel defines us. Take five minutes and watch how Elizabeth Smart inspired me. Maybe she’ll inspire you too. ♥

via Reclaim Your Power — Authentically 50 ~ Embracing Life’s Changes