About Jo

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Words have a funny way of lounging across paper like they’re waiting to be adored. I lie down among them to see which ones settle next to me.

I have had many jobs. So many jobs. I have liked most of them, only hated a few. Writing has mostly been for fun but it has paid the bills too. I’m writing less in my current job so hello new outlet.

Why bring another gd blog into the world?

• Because there is a pandemic happening outside and what the fuck else am I supposed to do? Projects and cleaning? No, thanks.
• Because these words have to go somewhere or they kink up with my anxiety. Not in a fun way, in a could you not way.

I pretend to be poetic. I’m not very good at it but I still try. I’m also not nearly as good with grammar as my education says I should be so…sorry in advance?

To help you get started, here are a few questions: (These are the WordPress prompt questions. I don’t think I’m doing this right but again, pandemic. There are no rules anymore.)

• Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal? Because I’m not in middle school and social media has taught me someone will want to read the dumbfuckery I have to offer.
• What topics do you think you’ll write about? Childhood memories otherwise known as trauma. Being barefoot. Taco Bell, maybe? I’m white and in my thirties. The list can’t be that long.
• Who would you love to connect with via your blog? Ew.

Jo works for a library system where she spends a lot of time doing children’s programming. She can’t cuss there so she will do that here. Heads up if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Jo is married. She and her wife have three dogs and two cats. They obviously have no self-control so thank god they live in a small house or there would be more animals. Jo would really like to have a goat and a donkey. Her wife would not. No final decisions have been made on that (except for the bossy city ordinance that says she can’t, in fact, have them).

Jo likes bumble bees, flowers she did not have to plant herself, the idea of restoring an old house, art made from ethically-sourced (she’s not a monster) dead things, thistles, and porch-sitting.

Jo does not like speaking/writing in third person and is not sure how that happened here, clothing that touches her ankles or wrists (a big fuck you to all socks), and petty people – unless she thinks they’re funny.

Jo’s pronouns are she/her.