Holy Shit You Guys!!

I’m a finalist for a book award!! What What!! Check it out:

CIPA EVVY Awards List of 2018 Finalists

Oh man, it really is an honor to be nominated. What an exciting day!

Thank you again to everyone who helped make Fuck Cancer, A Tale of Love Pouring in from Every Angle come to life. I love you all!


I’m in Best Self Magazine!

Hi friends! Today I’m celebrating my latest publication. Please check out this essay from my book that was just published in Best Self Magazine!

Thanks, as always, for the continued love and support! Sending love & light

I’m Officially Published!

Hi everyone! I have such exciting news – I’ve been published by an outside source for the first time ever. This is HUGE for me!! It’s a really big step to finally become a published writer.

Please help me gain traction with page views, likes and shares by following the link below to my book excerpt on elephant journal:



Oh my goodness, it’s ready!! I can hardly believe it but my first book is complete and available for purchase. Thank you so much to everyone who has joined me along this writing journey. I started blogging in 2009 after life as I knew it basically blew up in my face. When I arrived to Portland, OR, a huddled mess, I joined a memoir writing class and was welcomed by the women who were most influential on my work from Day One.

Ariel Gore, Carrie Link, Travis Dedmore, Deb Shucka, Maria Holmes, Sarah Marshall, Sue Tortolani, Amber Windsong Mills, Corrina Karch and more.

From there I expanded to a new group of incredibly talented writers in Honolulu, HI.

Lizzie Vance, Lani Kwon, Cynthia Christian, Erin Crocker, Malia Helela, to name a few.


Then I went home to Connecticut because, say it with me now, FUCKING CANCER!

And now here it is! This book is the product of two years of work combined with unexpected joy and So. Much. Love. Ericka, thank you from the bottom of my heart for not just allowing me back into your life but for letting me document and share your story. I love you to the moon and back ❤ ❤ ❤

Follow this link to purchase your copy of  FUCK CANCER: A TALE OF LOVE POURING IN FROM EVERY ANGLE!

Oh hey… remember me?

Hi everyone! Just a quick note to say hello!

I made it back to the states from Ireland then almost immediately moved from Connecticut to Colorado. Now I’m settled into the stunningly gorgeous city of Boulder and life is grand.

I’ll be switching up the blog this month as I piece together an official launch plan for my first book FUCK CANCER: A Tale of Love Pouring in from Every Angle. I’m so excited and ready to get this out into the world. Please bear with me as the next few months will be ALL about book promotion.

Until then… sending love & light as always ❤

Excuse Me While I Get My Nerd On

Just a quick note to let you all know that Ericka (a.k.a. the most convincing female Eminem ever) is doing really well. Today we went to the oncology radiologist and she got fitted for her radiation therapy which will start in about ten days and last through the middle of December.

It was all a weird blur of contrast dyes, CAT scans, masking and three tiny tattooed dots that will allow the physicists (yes, physicists!) to line her up properly for each of her daily treatments.

As for me, I have so many thoughts and memories swirling around in my head from this past month’s journey across New England. I reached all six states and cycled through at least 145 towns and cities. It was such an incredible journey and I can’t possibly thank you all enough for the love, the support, the shout outs, the financial contributions and everything else that made it all possible!

Yesterday I dove right into National Novel Writing Month because deep down inside (and all the way up to the surface actually) I’m a total nerd. So please excuse me while I dig into that. I’ll check in on the blog occasionally but you probably won’t hear much from me until I come up for air in December.

Sending love and light! FUCK CANCER!!!!










Close Enough

My route out to Mattatuck was just over forty miles. Gorgeous ride, perfect length. Should’ve put me back at home right around eighty-two total like I wanted, but I took a different route back and it ended up being a bit shorter.

I figured I’d get to Danbury and do a few victory laps somewhere to make up for any missed miles so I could officially surpass 1,400 – but I couldn’t stop thinking about the kids. It was getting late and I had promised all four of them that I’d be there for trick-or-treating. How ridiculous would it be for me to be late because I was riding around in circles for a number that doesn’t seem to mean anything to anyone?

My mileage total has always been an estimation anyway because I didn’t use an app like Strava and I had bike computer issues on three of my rides.

Instead of putting unnecessary emphasis on my grand total I decided to pack it in and just get home. I showered quickly and headed out the door, arriving at their house just in time for the building frenzy of four kids excited to get out into the neighborhood. The ten-year old vampired me up – blackened cheeks and eyes, bright red lipstick to look like blood dripping down fake fangs – and we were off:

One Tinkerbell

One Malificent

One Harley Quinn

One Hulk

One living dead breast cancer awareness cyclist

And the most convincing female Eminem you’ve ever seen


It’s never been about the miles anyway. It’s always been about them.

And look who’s hair is growing back!!



Officially getting to 1,400 miles would have been nice. But trick-or-treating with a gaggle of nut cases, candy swapping on the living room floor and snuggling in bed to watch Alvin & the Chipmunks Meet the Wolfman was priceless. I’m gonna go ahead and say that with 1,395.2 miles, I came close enough.

Happy Halloween! And love and Love and MORE LOVE!!

Eighty-two Miles Before Sunset

Tomorrow is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month and my last ride for Cycle My Heart Out. My plan is to put 82 more miles on the bike which will land me at 1,400 total for the month. Far from what I originally intended, but it still feels like a really good stopping point.

I’m going to head north through Bridgewater, Roxbury and Washington, then east to Mattatuck State Forest.

Tonight I feel such a mix of emotions. I’m looking forward to a scenic and quiet last ride partly to help me make peace with this journey ending, and partly to help me clear my head to figure out what’s next.

Most importantly I’ve got to be back before dark so I can get my Halloween on by joining Ericka and the kids for trick-or-treating. No matter what’s going on in our lives, having our priorities straight is always one of the most important aspects!

Thank you again to everyone who has supported this effort. It means the world to me that you’ve helped me help my friend. And for anyone who intended to give but hasn’t gotten the chance yet, it’s not too late! Anything you can do to help will in fact… help!


Cycle My Heart Out 3












Uncles & Lakes

My Uncle Bill taught me how to skip rocks and fish up on Lake Champlain in Vermont, and by “fish” I mean I would catch and release tiny yellow perch with a pout of excruciating boredom across my face until he caught an actual trout. Then he’d hand it off to me and we’d race up the dock to the house he was renting, him giving me all the glory. “Look at this beauty! Can you believe this little pipsqueak nabbed such a big fish all by herself?!”



I thought about him a lot as I was riding south through Vermont last week. He lived in a couple different states but for a while he was near Rutland. My grandmother would drive her grey Chevy Celebrity up Route 7 to visit him and my Aunt Carol. He was the oldest of her five children, the one who took her to hot air balloon festivals in Arizona, the one who drove her cross country to see California and Mount Saint Helens. The only one she lost.

Most of my memories of my Uncle Bill are from Candlewood Lake in Danbury, CT. That’s where he had the speedboat. That’s where he would yell, “I’m letting go so you better take the wheel!” as we’d go whipping across the surface at speeds that seemed unimaginably dangerous to my eight year old self.

Losing Bill to lung cancer in 1996 was devastating for everyone. He was only 56. Way way way way way too young.

I’m circling the lake today remembering how he and Carol were always out there on their boat for the Fourth of July fireworks that were set off from the island near the Danbury Town Park. I’m remembering the sound of his gravelly deep laugh, how tall he was. How much fun it was at their wedding because Lionel Ritchie’s Dancing on the Ceiling had just been released and the videographer kept turning the camera upside down on the dance floor so it would look like we were on the ceiling too.

I’m circling the lake slowly through Sherman, thinking about how tired I am today, so tired of riding, and for a minute I have the audacity to complain. Immediately there’s Joanna cheering me on. “When you’re finished you can light the bike on fire if you want! For now, ride Jenny ride!” And I just want to smack myself for being such an ass.

How lucky I was to get so many summers with my Uncle Bill as a kid, to have this treasure trove of memories of his smiling face tossing horseshoes in my grandmother’s backyard, because not everybody gets that. I’m circling the lake somehow forgetting about Joanna’s daughter Eleanor who will never get to know her Uncle Frankie, another awesome uncle gone way way way too soon, also to lung cancer just this past January.

So how about I shut up, remove my foot from my mouth, and ride for her?

Of course Eleanor has other great uncles, just like I do, but I know that Frank would have been to her what Bill was to me. I hate that my mom and Joanna both lost perfect amazing totally awesome big brothers, idols. Frankie, the jokester who was always laughing, every single time I ever saw him. Either laughing, or cracking a joke, or trying to jump off the roof of the Contorno’s house into the pool. How impossible is it to lose that person?

I continue past Squantz Pond through New Fairfield and back into Danbury. I’m passing the Amber Room where Ericka and I went to the prom twenty years ago. It’s also where I ran the Ann’s Place 5K along with Frank’s wife Lauren back in August before I started pedaling. And I’m thinking of my Aunt Carol and Lauren losing husbands, best friends. The utter impossibility of it all.

Heading home from the lake I ride down Hayestown past Abbot Tech and over Hospital Avenue. I pass the Praxair Cancer Center where Frank, Ericka and countless others received their chemotherapy. I take White Street to Cross Street and start up the back side of Old Shelter Rock to Skyline. I’m crying long before reaching my grandmother’s house, which still hasn’t sold since she passed over a year ago. When I finally get there I lean my bike against her mailbox and collapse onto the grass.

The maple tree in the backyard is gone now. The one my teeny tiny Grams pulled a large branch from out of frustration and anger, slashing a huge gash into her leg right after Bill died. Mothers are not supposed to lose their children at any age. I cry for the pain she felt. I cry for Frank’s mom Cathy.

I started today for my uncle and I ended it for the Contorno’s, every single one of them. Frank wasn’t just a delightful human being; he was a beacon of light amongst his family and in his community. Hundreds of people attended his funeral. Nine months later friends continue to post messages to his Facebook wall. The King Street Intermediate School where he worked planted a tree and dedicated a bench to him, engraving it with Live Laugh Love. He was so important to so many people.

Losing a family member to cancer is gut wrenching and atrocious. As a family mine has had many years to grieve but the Contorno’s have only had a few months. The loss is so fresh, so visceral.

Joanna I’m sorry for complaining. I love you so much. Thank you for waking me back up to what really matters.