A Bag is a Bag, or Not 

A Bag is a Bag, or Not When your fifteen-year-old knock off ‘Balenziaga’ bites the dust, you cry a little. (Canal Street, NYC score, I had two of them. One orange, and the green). I love, love, loved them. When the bag’s ‘leather’ literally starts peeling at the START of your fancy vacation, and your friends relentlessly make fun of you…what they didn’t understand is how loyal and practical that bag

Waiting on Oprah: Never Quit Your Dreams

Waiting on Oprah I close my eyes and can almost see the perfect fairytale life I envisioned in my wildest dreams. Dear Fantasy (Oprah), “I feel that I am a very fortunate person …” I was fifteen. Fifteen, gawky, wickedly uncomfortable in my so called ‘model frame.’ Somehow fifteen was the perfect age to concoct wild fantasy adventures and the fastest way out of a stifled, small town. There was

Training Wheels and Little Blond Curls #StolenMoments

From time to time you’ll see Stolen Moments show up on the blog. Words forgotten and misplaced, poetry, anticipatory memories, prose, joy and sorrow, pensive emotion, random and not so random thoughts scribbled in tattered notebooks. To not forget but remember the precious, fleeting stolen moments in time. I’m a writer trying recapture on paper how it feels to be alive. Training Wheels and Little Blond Curls Jacqueline Cioffa 1998

Drowning by Mouse

Woke up to a flooded basement (only a little), and a head that feels like it’s in a vice-grip. I have taken half a Benadryl, Alka-Seltzer and Flonase with only marginal relief. Not matter what’s happening or how shitty I feel, my personal summer goal is to swim every single day. And, it only counts if I get my head wet. Duh, everybody knows that. Don’t they? Went to the gym and for a

I am somebody’s child, you know. Jacqueline Cioffa #mentalillness  

I never cared much about looking back when I was young. I could not wait to leave this house, this town get out and experience stuff. You know the obstinate dreamer looking for bold adventure. It worked. I ran. I ran fast and far, and kept running. That’s the funny thing about developing a serious illness, you are forced to re-prioritize. Becoming insane in the middle of Manhattan did not bode well for me

"This story was quite the ride it was raw and full of emotions, doubts, mistrusts, fame, love and it was like following a train wreck as it goes down the track." Reader Review

what a ride…. 4 stars Amazon “This story was quite the ride it was raw and full of emotions, doubts, mistrusts, fame, love and it was like following a train wreck as it goes down the track. Harrison the female lead character, in this story refers to herself in the 3rd person throughout the book, which I do not see often. I would say it is not the type of

Light of Orbs

Do you believe in signs? I try. I want to. Some days they’re impossible to ignore. I have a funny kind of feeling we’ve been here, lived this place before. Maybe not in the same order, geography or circumstance. I don’t know, maybe not at all says the practical parts to me. I’m pretty sure we won’t remember. I’m quite certain the people I have loved deeply, who have loved me fiercely remain

County Cork Kildare

My grandfather came to this country when he was twelve years old from County Cork, Kildare in Ireland with five brothers and two sisters in tow. He was twelve years old. Despite an eighth grade education he found a trade, worked hard, prospered and made a whole life for himself. He married a strong, loyal, capable German girl, a baker’s daughter with five sisters and two brothers from solid stock. They’d have three sons and their

for the love of a dog

Wouldn’t it be lovely if kindness, loyalty and showers of affection were our biggest faults? Wouldn’t it though? It would be awfully, awfully nice. It is lovely in the company of my shadow. The spirit animal who teaches me patiently and without judgement the crazy curious inexplicable mystery that is uncomplicated love. For one glorious moment I forget, all the exhausting complicated human parts. I’m free. On the walk. I don’t care how I look on the outside,