grammar and tonic                

Editing with a twist.

A Splash of Tonic

If you are reading this, please be advised of the following:

I am fluent in sarcasm. I tend to teeter on the line of political correctness like it's a balance beam. Sometimes I fall off. There is no method to my madness, and sometimes there are puns or obscure song references. Sometimes I write just for me because I get me. It's not always about you.

If you're still reading this, here are some random facts:

I love to read and write. I carry a black Sharpie in my purse and I would delight in correcting bad punctuation on signs with it, but being arrested for defacing public property--no matter how right it would be--would not look so good on my resume. To me, a segue is only a slow mode of transportation.  I think life is too short to be serious all the time. I childproof my house, but they keep getting in. I have a twisted sense of humor and an active imagination.

I don't really know what you're going to find here. It's kind of like that box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. Hopefully it's one you're glad you picked out, like a truffle or a caramel, instead of the oblong one you bite into and realize it's filled with toothpaste. Enjoy!

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Posted on May 28, 2018 at 7:20 PM Comments comments (5)
The day was noisy. Phones ringing. People talking loudly. Computers beeping. The air conditioner humming. An electrical buzzing undercurrent. Caffeine coursing through her veins. She thought her head would explode. A ping! announced an incoming email. The chatter on the radio bored into her brain. She squinted and rubbed her temples, needing to escape. "I'll be back," she said to the girl at the reception desk, wondering if she was lying. What was stopping her from running out the back door,... Read Full Post »

on writing

Posted on April 15, 2018 at 12:00 AM Comments comments (0)
Writing is hard. The words hurt when I put them to paper. It hurts when they don't come. The ink is my soul, bleeding over the paper, staining the lines with words and emotions that are meaningless to anyone but me. Sometimes they pour out like a dam has broken; other times they trickle. But any word written is better than none at all...just a blank page staring back with too many possibilities. Writing makes the heart sing, the wind cry, the leaves dance. It is raw; everything and nothi... Read Full Post »


Posted on March 15, 2018 at 8:20 PM Comments comments (0)
Someone asked me who I'd want to meet on a park bench and talk with for an hour. It had to be someone who was deceased. What would I say to that person? After thinking about it, I would choose to meet my adolescent self. "But, Jodi," you say. "You're still alive. You're not doing this right." I beg to differ. The person sitting on the bench is dead. Young girl aspirations derailed by real and imagined fears. Lack of confidence. Doubt. I would take her in my arms and hold her. "You are enough,... Read Full Post »

Sunday Morning, Sunday Mourning

Posted on March 14, 2018 at 8:10 PM Comments comments (0)
Sunday morning creeps in like a fog. Blurry thoughts and feelings. Whispers of regret and words left unsaid. The sunrise through the curtain chases away my sleep. I close my eyes to keep the reality out. Alone in my own darkness, I won't have to face the truth. But will it be worse to find myself there in the blackness?

mirror, mirror

Posted on January 11, 2018 at 10:50 PM Comments comments (0)
My reflection stares back at me through the same blue eyes, yet the face that holds them is different now. The wrinkles around my eyes from laughter. The grays at my temple from worry. The lines in my brow. Softness where there once was a little definition at my jawline. My mouth is bracketed by lines like parenthesis. (Is that why I feel like I'm making an aside to the audience when I speak sometimes?) Mine is the face of many different people. A daughter. A wife. A mother. A friend. ... Read Full Post »


Posted on November 4, 2017 at 10:25 PM Comments comments (0)
I floated home one night last week, smiling and feeling a tingle like I'd just been on a great first date. I spent a little more than an hour with a dozen people, only one of whom I'd ever met, but I felt a deep soul connection. Someone started a writers' group in my city for the simple reason that he wanted one...what a concept: seeing a need and making it happen? If only more people would do that. But, I digress... I went, not knowing what to expect. After all, by my own choosing, I've put ... Read Full Post »

far the lobe of autocorrect...

Posted on September 5, 2017 at 8:35 PM Comments comments (0)
Oh, autocorrect. One thing that really gets on my nerves is how my phone thinks it knows what I want to say when I text. Google comes in a close second to giving me suggestions about what I want to research, but that's a story for another time. Autocorrect has turned my dreams into dramas and plans into planes. I sent a text once and 'bane of my existence' became 'bang of my experience'. It won't let me text swear words, and sometimes I get really tired of that shirt. What's even better is... Read Full Post »

Pause for positivity.

Posted on December 4, 2016 at 9:30 PM Comments comments (0)

"There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative." -W Clement Stone

Let's face it: dealing with people is a challenge. Every interaction we have with our coworkers, clients, family members, and friends comes with the human element. We have emotions, different opinions, stress, and busy schedules. We offend others and are offended ourselves. We exp...

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I childproof my house, yet they still find a way in...

Posted on November 16, 2016 at 3:20 PM Comments comments (0)
I find it interesting to realize which character I most relate to when I'm watching something on TV or in a movie. Sometimes it's obvious, but other times, I'm surprised. For example, when three of my firefighter wife friends and I get together, I feel like Samantha from Sex & the City...because I'm the oldest. (Pause for sarcasm here.) It's usually just one persona per show that reflects back at me, but I recognized bits and pieces of myself in almost every role in something recent. I'd love to... Read Full Post »

Cut Down the Tree

Posted on September 1, 2016 at 9:50 PM Comments comments (0)

On the Saturday I was to pick my daughter up from church camp, I arrived a little early for selfish reasons. For seven of my summers growing up, I spent a week at that very same place, although the wooden cabins and creaky metal bunk beds have been replaced by concrete dorms. Even now as an adult, I have the same feeling of nostalgia and anticipation when I finally see the wooden sign that welomes me back. As much as I missed my daughter and could not wait to see her, I was nearly as homesick...

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