Justine Ruff
Bio
Justine Ruff lives in Southern Colorado with her one husband, two children, four dogs, and a meow.
Justine’s first novel, Take My Whole Life Too, was met with many rave reviews and praise. .
Stories (10/0)
I Was a Teenage Punk Rocker
Oh the glory of the mid/late 90's and 2000's. The music was sometimes angry, loud, passionate, relatable. The time was full of black clothes, ripped skinny jeans, and band t-shirts. At least for me anyway. I was also suffering from an undiagnosed mental illness which made it seem like I could feel the music to the point of existing within it. My bestie was just as angsty as I was, matching my dark clothes and black eye makeup and sharing the troubles of boys, parents, and bad grades.
By Justine Ruff3 years ago in Beat
How Substitute Teaching Made Me a Better Parent
Being a parent is, in my opinion, the hardest job we can have as humans. We are literally raising the next group of people that will one day be in control of the world. Being born in 1987, I was very much a part of a generation of kids who weren't always put first. Many of us are the products of parents who were divorced and who worked more than they were home. I feel like in a lot of ways, our parent's generation's, mainly those who are considered Boomers or early Gen X'ers, failed to prepare us to be that next great generation. In many ways, their parents paved the way for their success and instead of being gracious, learning from, and preparing the next generation, it's as though they have wanted to take it all for themselves and leave us to fend for ourselves.
By Justine Ruff3 years ago in Families
The Murders of Michael and Alex Smith
These are facts and opinions that come from decades of being interested in true crime. I have been educated on this story from many different sources over the years. I am not a journalist or a true crime specialist, I am merely someone interested in true crime with the knowledge of a lot of stories.
By Justine Ruff3 years ago in Criminal
Opti and Me
It was an extremely humid morning after a night of thunderstorms that kept me mostly awake. The year was 2007. I was a starry-eyed 19-year-old girl dead set on being a woman. I had just finished my first year of college, which included a tumultuous long-distance relationship. I found myself quitting a job that my stepfather set up for me that summer in my hometown of Colorado Springs, Colorado and on the road to Hinesville, Georgia. A tiny blip on any map, Hinesville was the town where Fort Stewart Army Base was adjoined to. Said tumultuous relationship brought me the 1,628 miles across country from Colorado. A 24-hour trip that I made in 28. A decision and trip made of complete impulses disguised as love.
By Justine Ruff3 years ago in Petlife
The Golden Ticket
She couldn’t believe it. She had spent the last of her paycheck on enough bread, meat and cheese for the week and had $2 remaining. She was feeling lucky, or maybe desperate, so she scanned the store for the lottery machine. The green machine sparkled with hundreds of tiny lights, attracting its prey to take a chance on winning a jackpot. She stopped on one of the five options, the one promising a “$20,000 Golden Ticket” to one lucky winner. The ticket was gold and shiny, it was calling her name. Without a second thought, she pushed the button and grabbed her ticket. She grabbed her stuff and walked the 10 blocks back to her apartment.
By Justine Ruff3 years ago in Horror
My Dream Home
Over time the vision of my dream home has changed. I remember playing the game M.A.S.H. which stood for Mansion. Apartment. Shack. House. I remember playing it as young as 9 years old. I always wanted the mansion, because the biggest and most luxurious is obviously the best. As I grew older and started having to make the adult decision on where to live, I learned that bigger doesn't always mean better.
By Justine Ruff4 years ago in Lifehack
What Happened to Tommy?
“She’s in there,” I could hear them say. I’m sure their coats were white and their clipboards metal. All they could see was a broken-down woman with tears streaming down her face. Sometimes there were smiles and other times complete sadness, but I could never make a sound. Never a word. Never a gasp. I couldn’t see the white walls but I could feel the padding around me. I wished they felt more like the feathery pillows on my MaMaw’s bed that I wasn’t ever supposed to be on and less like the stiff leather seats of my dad’s old Ford Ranger, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Where I really was, was where I needed to be and there was no use for physical me anyway.
By Justine Ruff4 years ago in Futurism
