Jo backing up...

It's okay. There's nothing to see here.

Move along. Move along.

Attempting to look cool. I think I pulled something...

Well, here is the very start of some photo assembly for the promo kit...

Like many people, I don't do well with the pics of me. Can't tell what looks okay and what doesn't...

So feedback is welcome, unless you are one of the mean people in my life who will suggest I just drive off a cliff or something.

High Seas Lesbians?

Thanks to a wonderful friend who totally believes in me and enjoys my music, the Olivia Cruise Line (lesbian cruises to Alaska, Mexico, the Carribbean, etc.) are currently waiting for me to send in a promo packet to consider me for on board entrtainment. I would be hired to play...and get to cruise for free.

Needless to say I am a little bit enthusiastic about the idea, and assembling the promo packet now. That can be a challenge with no income, but I have friend and family support out there. I will get it done. The photography is already taken care of I think, and I will post the new pics when they are ready...

The biggest challenge will be to get "The Dyke Radar Blues" transferred from cassette to CD format without losing quality. I will need a professional to do that...if anyone has any resources in terms of connections to a studio or anything, let me know.

It has been so long since I have done this. I have to get a large set list together and ready, and will be practicing daily again. I just love this, and had forgotten how much. The guitar was a good investment, although it cost more than I anticipated with my exe's wrath. But I can't control that...

Even if Olivia doesn't hire me, I am going to play gigs again. Music is too much part of my fabric, and I have been idle for too long. My brother has extended an invitation for a potential tour with him this autumn. He is a talented songwriter and musician...all the way to Florida, but I would LOVE to spend time with him and HIS music for a while. He mentioned something about having the chance to play with Don Henley/Tom Petty's drummer (REAL MUSICIANS), so it could be a real growth experience for me. Another doorway to consider...

This serves to remind me that things can happen for reasons that may not be apparent at the time-especially when change is forced and painful. My healing has been slow and agonizing. I STILL miss my ex spouse and the good parts of the life we lived together...even though our interactions now are painful and frequently hostile. We both have taken things from each other, and the wounds are not ever going to completely heal...like attempting to put the dirt back into a hole once dug...never quite fills up again. Our interactions fluctuated between understanding and caring to savage and brutal...both of us...and it stalls recovery at times. I have managed to love again...trust being hard to maintain for certain. I don't trust many anymore... 

But life goes on...and it is... and I am grabbing it...

No Rest For The Weary

My ex partner and biological parent to my daughter saw that I purchased a guitar...and yes, I did indeed find it at a Pawn Shop and spent what little I had on it...to try a last ditch effort at salvation...peace...mental health...

I guess I was supposed to send that money to her although she makes several times what I did (tax free)WHEN I WAS WORKING and I am currently in such agony that I can hardly function. This guitar might literally save me, as I really wish for death at times right now...and have nothing to turn to but what calms and centers me. I HAD to have a guitar to even have a chance here...at wellness... 

and she was sure to tell me how worthless I am, and that others have made it through much worse than this. Yes, that last part is true...and if I hear from one more person the other sentiment, well...I may have to surrender to that....

I fucking surrender.

But she DID generously gave me the option of relinquishing my parental rights to my daughter, or going after me with state child support-which means when I finally get ready to resume my career, I will be so in arrears that I may as well never even work. They will attach my wages to Kingdom Hall Come. She has to pay the payment on her new RV somehow.

I have not had any real parental rights, and they have been gradually eroded ever since she started school anyway. Piece by agonizing piece. I gave them away without a real fight, as lawyering up seemed beyond my capability...

I cannot parent this little girl like this. I guess Pam can now exclude me from her life entirely, as I told her to send me the fucking papers.

I am not going to make it through this. I am just not.

"You Smashed My Heart Through A Garlic Press, You Bitch..."

(Country Two-Step Feel)

(...Because she would hate that...)

You Smashed My Heart Through A Garlic Press, You Bitch
words and music by Joanna Nicholson

Oh....you smashed my heart through a garlic press, you bitch.
You smashed my heart through a garlic press, you bitch.
You knocked it down, ran over it
then backed up to see what you hit
You smashed my heart through a garlic press, you bitch.

SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST

My New Best Friend w/benefits

Although I should have been using any little bit of cash I have for more "sensible" purposes, life without a guitar is not going to work for me.

So, I fixed the problem. In a grand way.

And I have a new best friend. I have not yet named her. But it will come to me, probably around the same time the "Garlic Press" song finally comes to fruition.

On board tuner, abalone inlay along fretboard, beautiful finish and design, heavy wood, action like butter, MIC jack built in, great equalizer and pick-up-keeps that warm acoustic sound even through an amp...

I am in love with her. I touch her a lot...as she has GREAT curves.

Pretty sure she won't cheat on me, toss me, and then tell me it was never real.

If she does, I know a busy woodchipper.

Pardon me. Is that a pussy under your seat?

Why yes. It is a pussy under my seat.

Chicken kitty and I just drove across the country. Well, I drove mostly. He has no opposable thumbs.

He started in a pet carrier, but I was pulled over by the New Mexico Highway Patrol for the high pitched yowling so many times, I finally set him free in the pickup cab.

He did get loose once in Yuma (or someplace). Fortunately I cornered him and managed to stuff him in my leather jacket before a big lizard ate him (or something).

Once loose in my truck cab he spent some time under both my gas and brake pedals (oh joy), as well as on top of my head, or hanging from the cab ceiling like a bat.

Then he found a great spot under my driver's seat-where he wedged himself in so tightly it took a crowbar and Crisco to remove him.

People could occasionally hear him yowl from under there, and I would calmly explain that there was a pussy under my seat. Then I would say "I'm real bendy."

Most would leave me alone at that point (except that one truck driver named Cletus).

As my friend Chris pointed out after I arrived, I am staying in a place near "Beaver's Bend" Oklahoma. Somehow fitting.

So....my little chicken cat is happy now (or at least quieter and less puffed up), and I intend to get him some counseling.