Monday, December 28, 2009
I don't get why some people fall off the face of the Earth and they stop talking to you. They don't return phone calls... It's just "over" for them and without any reason.
It's sad. It makes me angry. Especially when you stumble upon them on a social networking site and you've figured out that they have "blocked" you.
So lame. I don't even know why I am hurt by this, but I am.
I am just sitting here crying and I feel so offended.
What did I even do.
I don't even want to know and I don't care.
Some people aren't worth it and frankly, I am tired of giving a fuck about people who obviously have gone out of their way to "block" me from their lives.
They aren't worth my tears or my heartache. It just hurts and I don't get it.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
There is a lot to be said about me. I am can be a lot to handle. I am extremly liberal and I don't think a lot of things are too taboo to talk about. I don't think words have power, but we as people give words power. The words: fuck, shit, ass, cock, and any other of those "no-no" words freely spew through my mouth. That's just who I am. I don't let petty words with no ascertain bother me. Words don't have power. Sticks and stones. Why let something or someone who has no barring on your life affect you?
That's usually how I roll.
But when you stoop so low as to insult my character... that's another story. You have to draw the line somewhere. Yes, I can be a bitch. I feel that any strong woman has been called that word from time to time. More power to you for recognizing that I'm not a pussy and that I'm not afraid to put my pedicured foot down. I stand up for what I believe.
But to accuse me of being a thief, stating that I committed a "hate" crime, and other blasphemous, poisonous venom that you allow to spew freely from your toxic trap is just wrong. I may be a lot of colorful "risque, scandalous" nouns, but in no way am I a thief or a "hater." I am a girl that makes mistakes. That sometimes uses poor judgment, but I am not a bad person. I have done bad things in the past. I am guilty of being human, which makes me flawed and prone to make mistakes, but I am in no way, shape, or form am I lacking in character or do I have characteristics that make me a bad, hateful, downright mean person..
When you insult who I am, my core, and degrade my character you have committed a crime against me. Don't go around spreading hearsay, second hand information. Gossip is bad and it hurts people.
So, to close out this rant and let it all go, I have to say this. Be careful of what you say or post online. It will come back and haunt you. You could be hurting someone. And lastly, if you are going to insult someone on a public forum, have the decency to have a private profile or at least block the person you are talking smack on... also, be sure that you aren't dissing a mutual friend's good friend. It's just bad form, buddy.
So haters, keep on hating; because us lovers are always going to prevail. The dark will never overcome the light. And that's the gospel truth.
Now or later
‘Coz I’m gonna do me
You’ll be mad, baby
Go ‘head and hate
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
I am totally obsessed. I love Gaga. You could say I am goo-goo for Gaga-Puffs! Her lyrics are cryptic and her costumes are from somewhere else and I cannot get enough. I love her! I love her. I. LOVE. HER. I don't know what flavor her kool-aid is, but whatever it is, I'm drinkin' it. I am proud to be a little Monster and a member of the Haus of Gaga. Below is a photo I took gettin' ready for the Monster Ball.
I will leave you with my favorite Lady Gaga quote: "It's always wrong to hate, but it's never wrong to love."
Jessica, Princess of Cupcakeland
Friday, December 18, 2009
To quote Mean Girls "Isn't it weird when your friends aren't your friends anymore?" It is weird. How one day you're tight-knit, then they fade into an obscurity, nothingness.
I've deleted your number out of my phone for the thousandth time the other day.
We've fought like cats and dogs.
It's an old game and we play it all too well.
I thought we were at a place where we could be honest with each other, but...
I was wrong.
You do it so effortlessly.
You've always been a God to me.
Up on the highest pedestal.
I'd grovel on my knees.
You are a mimic, a mime of what you wish to be,
What you hope to be, but what you'll never be.
I once thought I knew you.
And I thought I knew you well.
You aren't a mistake, no.
You're the greatest lesson I've ever had to learn.
You fooled me, time and time again.
And I thought we were like a phoenix.
We'd burn so bright and flame so hot, that nothing was left,
Nothing but ashes of what once was so illuminating.
And we'd always rebuild. Start anew.
The other day, I ran across some pictures.
Pictures of memories.
Memories made without me.
It made me cry. I couldn't stop.
You seem to have left me in the dust.
Forgot to include me.
I had become a distant memory.
Don't feel sorry for me.
I may have been deserted,
but I found something old.
Something that I had once forgotten,
that I had left behind.
I was welcomed.
I was embraced.
Free of judgment.
Never left to feel alone.
I found reality.
I found love.
I found friendship.
I found home.
For losing you,
I got the greatest gift I could have ever known.
Losing you, I found everything.
I found me.
(I really don't know where this came from, but I wrote this! And this is magical and emotional and part of my journey, my life's story. I hope YOU find it and that YOU read it. Think of me every now and then and when you do, I hope you smile. Goodbye, my friend. May life treat you kindly and maybe someday you can meet me half way. Truly forgive me for all the wrongs that I've made and love me for me. Because this simple request, I've already done it for YOU.)
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
YOU, I am over you.
I don't care about your day-to-day life.
I don't think about whether or not you think about me.
I'm moved on.
I don't even miss our "relationshit."
I don't miss the texts.
I don't miss waiting around for phone calls.
I don't miss how worthless and second best you made me feel.
I am OVER YOU.
But more than that... I forgive you because you are pathetic and kind of horrible.
Mandy Moore put it best:
I know your mistakes will hunt you down, eventually
You'll know that when you hit the ground
Your weakness did you in, and dealt me out
It's okay, I have the truth on my side
I heard you say
We were one and the same
We'll wrong again
I could never do those things, you, did, to me
I will be okay
In time you'll fade
Into nothing that you are
The nothing you are
In the end, I just kind of feel sorry for you. You're the one living in your lies and I, I am free and not haunted by infidelity. So, goodbye my lova, don't let the door hit ya, where the good Lord split ya! Ciao and best of luck!
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
What you may or may not know, something I loathe and something I adore teamed up. Yes folks, Miley and Wal-Mart have combined their powers and she has a clothing line sold exculsively at their stores.
While, I was a Wal-Mart (my Mom needed to pick up some pharmaceuticals) I went wondering to check out her line. I am a fan and her clothes were cheap (some items were $3) and I fell madly in love with the dress pictured above. It is only $20. I refrained from trying it on and purchasing it. The dress is haunting me. I've fantasized about what I would pair with it (fishnets and black converse) and have decided tomorrow (aka later today, this afternoon) I am going to try it on and if it fits, I am getting it. Dress, we have a date with destiny.
I am disgusted I have to go to Wal-Mart to get it, but I love Miley enough to brave the freakshow that is Wal-Mart for this fuckin' sweet, cheap, insanely cute, enchanting, chiffon dress.
Peace, Apple Sauce, and Love,
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Blogging, how I have missed you. Well, let's jump right in and get our feet wet, shall we?
What is really bothering me is that someone I was once friends with is running their mouth about me. I've never run my mouth about this individual. It's sad that this person is doing this. We all know that they're full of lies. Everyone knows. Pretending to be someone you aren't is very tiring. I know this, I did it, too, when I was 15/16, heck even at 21, but when you reach your late 20s and you still have to lie about who you are and brag about what you once had, it's pathetic. The past is the past. Let it go. No one cares about what car you drive now, let alone what car you drove 10 years ago. It's moot. What matters is who YOU are as a person. The person you are is ugly, sad, and pathetic.
It's sad that all your "REAL" friends live thousands of miles away. Of course they do. Those people don't have to deal with you on the daily. You can lie to them about your life here because they don't know the people here. I wish all my relationships were one-sided. It would make my life easier.
Your nasty attitude, coupled with your whining pushes everyone away. You are not capable of love. You are not capable of understanding. You are so focused on what was, that you cannot live in the now. The now is important because the now is going to deliver you to the future. Crying and whining about the past isn't going to solve anything... it's done and over. It can hurt and,God knows, it can and will leave it's scars, but you are better than this. I know you are. I know you have the capability of being as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. I've gotten glimmers of it. That is the part I will miss now that our friendship has disolved.
So please stop lying, stop loathing (or pretending to), we can all see through it and we know you are phony bologna. Cyndi Lauper put it best (and quite gayly, may I add) when she said, "I see your true colors, shining through, I see your true colors, and that's why I love you, so don't be afraid, to let them show, your true colors are beautiful, like a rainbow." It really is as simple as that.
Be real with yourself. Learn humility. Learn to not be embarrassed (the best advice I ever got in 7th grade theatre, granted it was on how to be a successful actress, but it applies, dammit!). Learn to know that people are going to like you and that some people are going to like you (and don't focus on the latter, fuck them). Learn that there is nothing wrong with you being who you are.
I am silly, loving, funny, pretty, but the compliment I hold most dear are the ones when people tell me how geniune and sincere I am. It's the truth. I don't care what people think of me. I can be a bitch, lazy, gross, vain, weird. I don't care. I am me, all of the time, and when I started being me, I found that people started to naturally gravitate towards me (once I was told it was like magnetism of sorts). When you are REAL, people know it. It shines. It makes you appear more attractive and 20 lbs. lighter (okay, I made that last part up).
Live YOUR life. No one can do it for you. Face the reality. Make changes. Don't let people stand in your way. I don't care if this blog was written about you or if it wasn't. These are all things we all have to learn. RELEASE and LET GO. DROP the ROCK. Breathe it in and breathe it out.
I know how scary it is to be yourself. When you are REAL, they are rejecting who you REALLY are, but it doesn't matter because there are 100 more who like you just the way you are.
Like it or lump it, this is me. In the words of the great and underrated Ashlee Simpson,
And as far as us not being friends anymore, YOUR LOSS. I am a great friend, I am loved by many, and I hated by fewer. At the end of the day, I chalk it up as a win. Oh, and don't let the door hit ya, where the good Lord split ya. Best of luck to you in life. It's not going to get any easier and it won't get any worse, either.
Monday, November 2, 2009
I haven't written and I haven't really thought about writing either. I miss it, though.
I think the main reason I haven't bee writing is because Ijust feel so boring. I don't have anything fun, funky, and exciting to report. I feel lame and am in the mind set that I am lame.
I think more than anything I am bored. There are so many things I want in life and they all feel so far away or unattainable. It's just HORSE puckey. Writing is something that always made me happy and it's something I have a knack for.
I guess I just want my life to be a little more private. 2009 has been a HUGE learning experience and one of the toughest years I have had in a lond time. I know that whatever funk this is that I am in, is temporary... it just seems to be taking for.ev.er. It's also dragging ass.
I just want to get wild and crazy and shop and run a muck and do all things ridiculous (which is true Jessica fashion).
I need to get it together!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Why haven't I written in what seems like forever? I haven't written because: I feel lost. I have been processing and swimming in my head, lost in my own thoughts. I wasn't really aware of it until recently, but it's the truth. Every year around my birthday (8 days away) I reflect on my life (mi vida loca, more accurately). This year, on the brink of turning 28 (how did I get so damn old?) I am internally freaking the FUCK out. I am currently not working (for the first time in FOREVER) and I have to move home, where my sister has recently located as well. All the Mullen girls (my Mom is still legally a Mullen even though my her and my father have separated over 10 years ago) are all under the same roof, again.
I started this year with TWO JOBS, full time graduate school, a place of my own (with roommates), and in an on-again/ off -gain "affair." All of the aforementioned things are now gone... or ending. The two jobs, I am not doing either. One made me incredibly happy and the other made me despise people (and we all know I love people, have you met me? I'll chat your ear off and swear by the end of the night you're my new BFF). Grad school is over and I am officially an MBA, but what is next? I've always been good at school, but what do I do after school? My place, well, the lease is up in 2 and a half week and I now have to muster the willpower to once again pack my life neatly (scratch that, I just toss it) into boxes. The "affair" ended (abruptly) in May. Was it a clean break> No. I miss him terribly. It was 9 months and it's the longest I have ever been interested in a boy/man/dude, ever. I miss him beyond belief, he still haunts my dreams, and two nights ago, I actually cried about it. (Why I am admitting it is another story and will require more processing, but hey, I am writing, and at least it is something).
I am not too content with where I am in life. I feel like I have been short-handed. I listened to what adults told me when I was young: go to school, go to college, get a great job, get married, settle down, have a family, etc., etc., etc. I've done all of it, well, kind of, and in an unconventional way. 1) I have a Masters degree 2) I've never had what I considered a "great job." 3) I am married, but not to the love of my life or even to anyone I really love (that's another story) 4) Settling down, I have never done that, but it seems enchanting. I swear every time I pack my belongings the further and further I get from home. I have no real concept of home and I don't feel I really belong anywhere. 5) I've never really wanted a family. Maybe that's because I haven't found the right person or maybe my person is married to someone else. WHO FUCKING KNOWS? I just feel like at (almost) 28 my life should be something bigger, better, and more than it is.
I always think, maybe because I get sick so often, God doesn't want me to be with anyone because they'd have to worry about me (my poor family is sick of me being "sick" and I am, too). Then again, this is my own fear. I guess my fear of being alone is so big and so great that I keep myself alone (self limiting beliefs, damn psychology wins, again!). I won't take the run and jump into the deep end of life, even though I am pretty out there. I guess, I won't jump into the deep end of a "real" relationship. Maybe it's because I just am so uncertain in so many things and I know how people are.
I don't know. I want more from life. I want more from people. I want love. I want a career. I want happiness. I want to be healthy. I want to go back to school (I am such a nerd). I just want everything and yet, I want nothing.
I feel like such a paradox. A conundrum. A beautiful disaster.
Anyway, I don't know what is wrong with me and when I will start to feel like Jessica again, but I will, eventually. I always do. Until then, I am floating about this world finding my next fix.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Having studied the mind in my undergrad and having my own fair share of life tragedies, the mind is a very... how do I put it... interesting, scary, amazing, dark, and paradoxical place.
There are places in my mind that are all "sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows," but there are places in my mind that are so dark that I don't think I could ever discuss them with another human being or even have the courage to write these thoughts down. Yet, at the same time, I feel that I am crazy for having these thoughts or ideas, but I justify my irrationality by categorizing it as "Things no one ever talks about or repeats to another human being." So, I tell Deanzo (my cat and one true love) and move on until these thoughts reemerge. Shampoo. Rinse. Repeat.
Is there a reason that we don't say certain things? I mean, nothing really shocks me anymore. Nine times out of ten, I cannot believe the crap that comes out of my own mouth... but yet, I hesitate to fully share myself and I mean divulge every bit of information in my head. I get so frustrated that I cry and weep and feel like a failure. I feel fake and insecure and paranoid. I feel ugly, from the inside-out.
I like to think at the end of the day I am a normal, typical human being just like everyone else. But the truth is that I am NOT like everyone else. In fact, no one is exactly the same. It's Darwin's "natural variation." It makes sense. No two people are the same, not even identical twins. We all experience, see, feel, enjoy, and dislike things... differently.
I am just confused more than anything because I have so much to say, but am so afraid to say it. I feel weird. I am a weirdo. It's just me and who I am, but then again, my lovely justification is that everyone feels this way, too. I am talking myself in circles and I feel like a nut job and I am still dancing around the issues of not saying or repeating things that I want to say or write.
Why? Because I don't want to be judged or rejected. I am afraid. I have FEAR. It's fear that makes me press on and it is fear that also keeps me humble. It's an intoxicating feeling. I feel as if this was a pointless rant, but what? ever. I write what I want. Does this make sense? Errr... insecurity is creeping in... again.
I need to get out of my head and back into the real world. Plain and simple.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
1) (Get over it, I love lists.) I am finally done with my MBA cue the Pomp and Circumstance music!Therefore when referring to me, it's no longer just Jessica (WHORESSICA, ICA, MULLEN, etc.), it's MASTER Jessica. Show me some damn respect. Really, people. Actually, to be quite honest, not having scholastic endeavors to pursue has left me kind of, well, lost. I've been in school since I was knee high to a grasshopper (excuse my Southern expression-isms) and it's odd that when something is so much a part of you that you feel kind of naked when it is cut out of your life. It could be THAT or maybe it is that I am scared of taking the BIG step into career-hood. I have my commitment issues and they apply to almost everything, but school? Who am I without some fancy, schmancy degree to get under my belt? Anyway, bottom line, it's MASTER JESSICA or I will beat you.
2)My grandma passed away on July 5, 2009. My grandma and I had a rocky relationship (as I have with almost all of my family, it's hard being the BLACK SHEEP in the family). Either way, while I was in high school and in Colorado, my grandma cooked for me, did my laundry and we had some fun memorable times. She was an amazing cook and played a mean game of pinochle. She chain-smoked, had a great pair of legs, and full head of curly, wild hair (which she passed on to my Dad and Sister). I will remember her when I was little. My sister and I would go stay with her and she'd make the most delicious foods and she had a garden in her backyard. During Christmas time she had "A Christmas Story" playing nonstop on TV, except for when the Macy's parade was on... she loved to be on the water. In October, I plan on joining my family in Florida to spread her ashes along the Atlantic, where we spread (my Step-Grandfather) Dick's ashes. Rest in Peace, Grandma. I love you. I am relieved to know you are out of pain and in our Father's loving arms. <3
3)I have decided that once August rolls around, I am going to take my "list" (which has been saved in my phone for sometime) and start writing out my stories for my book. I've been told time-in and time-out that I should do stand up. I can't speak in public (and I have to take Xanax if I have to) and so, I will get to show off my literary skills instead. Hopefully, this will launch me on a book tour and I'll get to see the world for FREE and get paid to do it. Time to start looking for CROSS COUNTRY BOOTY CALLS. Kidding, slightly... I am not sure, but this seems the right thing to do. I love people and all the weirdness that we encompass, the right thing for me to do would be for me to make people happy and my sense of humor and ridiculousness might just be what humanity needs. I am going to save the world with laughter. I wonder how raunchy I will be once I am translated into French? I am getting a head of myself, again. Wait until you read this ridiculousness. It's stories about my life and thoughts/rants that I get/go on...it's going to GRR-EAT, like frosted flakes, except my flavor won't get soggy or go stale.
4) I have been self reflective lately. I have been praying a lot. Spending a lot of time with my sister. Reading. Keeping to myself. I have been low key. It's a combination of things. I am relieved school is over, but lost about it. I am being a crutch for my sister and taking advantage of spending every opportunity I can with her. I am slightly heart-broken against better judgment and I just feel the need to refocus my energy. Figure out my next move. 2009 is a year in which I am going after what I want, I am exploring selfishness, and trying to better myself. For those of you I have been flaky with, I am sorry, I am just about me right now. It's a good thing... there is only so much of my own ridiculousness that I can handle.
5) EAT PRAY LOVE. I read this book once all the way through and am re-reading it after finishing it. Any woman in her late 20s should read this book. It is beyond amazing. There is such a wealth of understanding and enlightenment in this book that I couldn't absorb it all the first go around, I go in line and went for seconds, savoring it and reading it more carefully. This book is so well written that you don't just read it, you experience it. I feel as if this woman, Elizabeth Gilbert, knows me. She's kind of a neurotic, worry-wart, which makes her 100% relate-able to me. She is truly skilled with the pen, gifted, I add, too.
6) I also want to start volunteering in August as well. Now that school has wrapped up, I think donating my time to non-profits such as: Big Brothers, Big Sisters or the Boys and Girls Club. Something with youth. I know most people get nervous when they think about me being around impressionable youth, but the truth of the matter is, I love OTHER PEOPLE'S KIDS, I just don't have any desire or need to have children of my own. For some reason kids love me, I think it is my love of all things Disney, especially Hannah Montana (TEAM MILEY)! I really feel I could have a positive impact on a kid and that they would benefit me greatly as well.
This is the gist of it. I want to wrap this up and not bore you all to tears. I have a lot of good things going on and am truly grateful to be alive. I have amazing friends and family. I am blessed and I am loved. Later bitches, I got some RE-COCK-YOU-LESS-NESS to get to. Or, you know, research for my new book.
PEACE, LOVE, and TOMATO BASIL SOUP, y'all,
Monday, July 20, 2009
However, the best time to blog, I have found is when I am pissed off and the words flow organically from me and at the same time alleviate the frustration that is building up inside of me.
This weekend I was in LA, enjoying the California sunshine with my sister when I get a phone call from a friend telling me that someone I don't know is talking smack on me and her husband (wow, audacity mother fucker) has told her that I am STALKING him. What the hell? I am doing such a great job STALKING while I am in LA. Are you kidding me?
Well, this is the deal. Loose lips sink ships. I have stayed quiet about this whole thing. I haven't droned on and on and I have kept your identity anonymous. Now, you are insulting my character. The only contact I've had with you in the last few months is when you were at work, harassing my friend about me. Have I called? No. Have I emailed you? No. Have I texted other that the aforementioned nonsense? No.
How dare you do what you did (and yes, I am just as guilty as you are in this whole situation), but I never made commitments to someone. I never did anything HORRIBLE to you and this is what you pull? You insult my character? I wonder what BS you fed her to make her believe I STALK you. Like I have nothing better to do with my time than follow you around and track your every move? I know a lot of people in this town, so keep my name out of your mouth. Things get back to me. You said yourself, I am "Vegas-famous," whatever that means.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Yes, I gave a shit about you and on some level, I still do, but when I hear people I don't know are saying shit about me and even greater, people I don't know are sticking up for me, it's a whole new ball game. The truth will come out eventually and it's shitty that your "circle" is seeing your true colors for what they are. I've gotten wind of the crap that's going on in your life. It must be unsettling to have your father-in-law living under your roof now, your mortgage is months behind, and your truck not having any A/C (especially in this oppressive heat). I am sorry that things are going to shit for you. Maybe this is the final icing on the cake and it was never my intention to hurt you, but this is ri-god-damn-diculous. I don't care anymore about you and your life. You made your bed now "lie" in it (pun intended).
Oh, and whatever girl is messing with you. Props to her. Props to her for calling you out on your shit, you asshole. You deserve this nonsense, it's YOUR karma. Keep my name out of your mouth. Don't show up at my house (wait, you don't know where I live 'cause it only happened once) and you can't call me because my number is changed. You can go fuck yourself.
PS: Oh, and wife, if you don't believe me or this... check his call logs. I would be the 702 number starting with 418. Feel free to contact me if you have questions and I would start my search around his birthday... that's when all this BS started anyway.
PSS: You are lucky I didn't mention any names... yet.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Way to be an insensitive prick. How dare you allow your new girlfriend to post pictures and write things like how wonderful you are.
Wonderful people DON'T cheat on their spouses and lie about it. You should have stood up when you started feeling that your relationship wasn't making you happy, but no, you were a huge pussy.
Do you really enjoy fucking someone who looks like your mother and acts like a 12 year old? Rubbing it in my sister's face!
What did my sister EVER do to her for her to treat her with such blatant disregard.
My sister's not perfect and neither are you. You failed to be honest with her about your feelings. I've stayed out of this. I haven't contacted you. I haven't written you. This isn't my battle to fight, but this is someone you spent 11 years with and built a life with. You are letting someone you've been sleeping with (for what 6 months) do this emotionally to my sister.
If you ever loved her and I don't doubt that you did and still do on some level, then you would not let Kari be so blatantly, rub-it-in-your face disrespectful. But, the fact that you are such a pussy and couldn't tell Barbie how unhappy you were for so long, I am pretty sure you cannot tell your new Mom (I mean, girlfriend) to be nice and stay out of business that isn't hers.
This is your life, but think about your actions. Think about your feelings and her feelings. You are looking like a real grade A asshole.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Yes, this is directed to you. You know who you are. You're the whore who is gallivanting around with my sister's husband. Posting pictures of the two of you kissing. You are a grown-ass woman. Yes, GROWN. Please act like one and be sensitive to someone else's feelings and broken heart. You are a woman after all.
Think about this, you are married for 4 1/2 years to your high school sweet heart. You have spent 11 years together. Then randomly, one day he comes home and calls it quits. And you are left baffled. You try to contact your husband over and over. You text, you call. No response. None of your so-called mutual friends know what is going on and everyone who knows the two of you are in shock.
So, in a moment of desperation and insanity, you hack his email and reset his MySpace password because something isn't sitting right with you. And guess what she finds? A letter to you about how much he likes to hang out with you, but he doesn't want to commit (shocker). He spent 11 years with one person. He's gonna want to play the field (I can't blame him, I would, too). If you think he is ready to buckle down, you are out of your mind.
Here's a clue. Men like any women that give them any sort of attention. Right now, you are a warm body and a place for him to throw his bone. Men are assholes, all of them. Especially, the one's who cheat and cannot own up to it. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Take it from one who knows (me, specifically).
He's a dog. He cheated on my sister and he couldn't own up to it. He couldn't give her an answer. Good luck with a 26 year old boy that is nothing better than a big, floppy, gaping pussy. That is what you have inherited and congrats on being a rebound.
I know a thing or two about "married men." I've been with 4 of them myself. So, you can call me a home wrecking whore, too. It takes on to know one, after all. But the difference between you and me, is that I was NEVER stupid enough to post pictures of me and these men and I NEVER would. You are 32 years old? Why do you want this drama? Are you really that insecure and heartless? You must be really proud of yourself. Enjoy my sister's sloppy seconds, bitch. Enjoy.
All the best in your new relationship,
PS: God forbid we meet in person. In the words of Poe, "You can't talk to a psycho like a normal human being." Just ask your new "love," he'll tell you about how crazy me and my family are. Don't fuck with Mullen girls, we are a rare breed. Consider yourself warned.
Friday, June 5, 2009
I probably won't update my blog for a while! I started my LAST class of my MBA program and it may in FACT be the DEATH of me... I am nervous. I have to write an entire Business Plan and present it... by MYSELF. (I are scared, but I know I can do it.) This project will take much of my time over the next 5 weeks, so I need to focus, focus, focus!
This Saturday is the actual graduation ceremony. I found the perfect dress. Today after work I pick up my robe, cords, hood, and cap! I cannot believe how almost DONE I am. I really just did "jazz hands" writing that!
So, as much as I love to write and let everyone "kinda" know what is going on in my crazy little head, I have to buckle the EFFE down and keep my eye on the prize. I have senioritis (is it even called that in Grad School?). You know what I mean...
Just know that I will have fun stories and much to update you on... I also have to give MAJOR KUDOS to my doctor who wrote me prescription for almighty Xanax. I've only been on it for a day, but the tension in my shoulders has melted away and I am not feeling overly stressed and on edge! Thanks Doc! <3
Kisses and hugs... I will be back before you know it!
Jessica (see also: Swallows, Goose, Whoresica, Ica...)
PS: If you haven't read "Eat. Pray. Love." yet, get on it. This book is also a HUGE distraction for me. I don't want to put it down. So, while you cannot read my inner thoughts, you can share what I am reading in my leisure time!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I know that I am being challenged. Some tasks I have breezed through and the roles I needed to assume fit like a glove; other challenges have lead me to stumble and my actions have left me filled with regret and doubt. I failed, miserably.
My biggest challenge this month has been with my sister. I am not airing out her laundry, those of you in the know, know and those of you who don't, don't. She is going through the biggest, most shocking challenge of her life. Having me as a sister, she has constantly (over and over and over again) been strong for me. Whether it is my health, stupid boy drama, to my panic attacks, to my ridiculousness... she has always been there for me. Through the tears, the laughter, the hysterics, every corner of my emotional depths and she has stayed strong. For the first time ever, I had to be the crutch, the support for her. I never knew I was able to be that for my sister. I have had friends who I have helped time-in and time-out, but knowing that I have been strong for my sister (crying when she cries, laughing when she laughs or giving her sass for not being funny, when she thinks she is, to arguing with her, to being compassionate, to just being there when no words are to be said). I assumed this roll so easily and so effortlessly that looking back now (still in the mix of it), I am proud of myself. Mostly, I am proud of my sister. She is so strong and so wonderful. I wish I could wave a wand and make all this hurt, frustration, and confusion disappear.
Another challenge is that scholastically. Here I am on the brink of my MBA, 6 weeks out. I am filled with doubt thinking that this is the wrong degree for me. My passion has been and always will be people. I care too much and I care deeply. Having gone through darkness in my life has lead me to be an empathetic and compassionate individual. Business is a fairly easy topic, it's black and white, and almost anyone can grasp on to the concepts. But I am not savvy or ruthless. Unless I can land a job in the HR/PR/Marketing realm, I feel pretty lost. I am not good with numbers and Finance/Accounting bored me to tears. This economy and my lack of experience in the business world scare me. I am thankful for my charisma, magnetism, and charm because at the end of the day, I know that they will carry me to where I need to go... otherwise, I may have to get on my knees and get to where I need to go "the old fashion" way. I am also scared what having all of this free time means. I am going to throw myself into my next challenge: BOOK WRITING!
I have a new roommate and with new roommates comes the whole "adjustment" factor. The getting used to this persons schedule, their little ticks, and their little weirdnesses. I have lived with 1294802398423 million people, so I am aware of the "rules." It's an adjustment and living with other people is hard at times and can also be enjoyable, too. However, being the straight forward person I am, I laid down the rules before she moved in. I made it clear. Asked if she had any questions... and now, we are dealing with a "boyfriend" issue. I am hoping for the best and praying for the best. I hate feeling uncomfortable at home and arguing in general. It makes my stomach turn and makes me feel icky.
Lastly is something I never write about and most people don't know about, but this will be vague and like I said before, if you know, then you know, if you don't, then you don't. To put it lightly, I have a "situation" in which I have been involved in (on-again, off-again) for the last nine months. It is a situation I have been in before and I have a tendency to be attracted to (see also: I'm a commitment-phobe). This last situation, however, was different. I get all blushy and twitter-patted when text messages or phone calls come. I didn't just like this guy, I liked-liked this one. One of my favorite phrases is:"loose lips sink ships" and well, I got a little booze in me and I got loose-lipped to someone in his "circle." I broke trust. I've jaded a friendship. I don't know what the future holds. I want this person in my life. I enjoy his company. He makes me laugh and feel good about myself. More over, he is so separate from my everyday life. I don't know quite how I feel about this, yet. I am still processing it all. I am sad. I am disappointed. I am hurt. Mostly because I hurt someone I care about and broke their trust. It's an awful feeling and there is nothing I can do to fix it. As I am writing this Katy Perry's "Hot N Cold" came on the radio and that song reminds me of him and the last 9 months. It makes me laugh, want to cry, and slightly cringe all at the same time.
So, this is my messy life as to date. There are lessons to be learned, some I have found, some I still trying to find the bigger picture. It's a "trying" time, but I always have been and always will be a fighter.
This seems to be a closing chapter in my life and as my friend told me the other day, I am about to embark on an exciting new adventure with new friends, lovers, and others. I am nervous, but excited and I guarantee I will land on my own two feet, resilient as ever.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
How do we measure strength? Physically we can, but emotional and mental strength are intangible. I know I am strong mentally and emotionally because of some of the most unfortunate events I have had to experience in my life. These are the challenges that God (or whoever or whatever you believe in) has placed in front of you to, so you can see what you are made of (whoever said sugar and spice and everything nice is a filthy liar).
In true Jessica fashion, I will list what has made me stronger, these defining pivotal moments in my life:
-My rape in the Summer of 2007 by 2 men
-Getting sent away to a behavior modification facility when I was 16
-My parents divorce
-Losing an ovary
-Losing a kidney
-My lung disease
-My Mom issues (in general)
-My Master's degree
-Every heart break
-Surgery (times 5)
-My own self-defeatus attitude
Sigmund Freud stated it best when he said, "One day in retrospect the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful." It is true. Without my struggles, without my hardships, without my lows, I wouldn't be who I am. These horrendous events are a part of my history. It's part of me. It's molded me, shaped me, and in ways defined me. I have become such a strong person living through these events. I am incredibly proud of who I am, who I have become, and who I am becoming.
I am me. I am all I have in this world. I have been blessed with an amazing sister, a loving father, the most brilliant friends, and an adorable kitten (or three). I am educated. I have a good sense of humor. I have a heart of gold. I have a roof over my head. Food in my belly. I cannot bitch too much.
These shit-tastic events have ultimately made me the caring, compassionate, ridiculous person I am today. I am a little too emotional for my own liking, but that is so essentially me.
I hate that I have had to live through some of this nonsense. I hate it. Some of these events still haunt me, visit me in my dreams, make me cry. But would I have my life any different way, absolutely not.
This is me. Like it or lump it. <3
Monday, May 18, 2009
What had happened was... (yeah, that is more like it).
It was a lovely Sunday morning. I was dolled up in my Sunday best. I had a heavy heart and decided to go to church, even though moping in bed felt like all I wanted to do. After church, I asked my girlfriend, "Booty," to drive LARGE and IN-CHARGE MARGE (my SUV) back to headquarters. I bawled to her about my insecurities and heartache. She was very comforting and reassured me that I am truly fabulous.
Once arriving on the scene of headquarters, I was promptly informed that an alien (see also: Canadian who goes by the name of Gen) was mad at me. Said alien, got out of her car. Hands clenched in fist, walked around my car, over to my window, which I had rolled down. She pointed a finger at me and said, "YOU!" Then she popped me square in the jaw, then again in the nose, which immediately started bleeding.
"Booty" decided that we should mud wrestle to handle our differences (she is the fearless leader, after all). We agreed. (We also decided to sell tickets to this event to fund our upcoming trip to Mexico, OLE!) So, we went at it. My wrestle-mania name was Captain Cupcake, Gen was Canadian Fur-eh (get it)! Let's just say it's safe to say, that I am still finding dirt in random places. We wrestled for what seemed to be hours. We laughed, we cried, then we started making out. Yep, we kissed and made up! (Videos will be available for purchase soon, I promise!)
And they all lived happily ever after. True story.
Moral of the story kids: Loose lips sink ships. Also, don't piss Gen off, ever. She will kick your ass. My poor nose will never, ever, be the same again. She has a killer right hook, y'all.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Don't get me wrong there are things about dudes/men/guys that I absolutely love:
1. Sex with them
2. How good they smell
3. When they fix thing for me
4. Their air guitar skills (I'm a 90s kid at heart)
I could drone on and on and on about how great men are, but I don't feel the need to. I want to talk about how much I hate them. Deep down, I really do.
Here we go:
I hate how men can disconnect. Us girls, we get hysterical. We cry, we yell, we go ape-shit, we go fucking nuts. Girls dive in deep. We look for deeper meanings in things that have no meaning. Guys are simple. Girls are complicated. Therefore, I hate how simplistic and detached they are. Lucky bastards.
Men don't have periods. Thanks to the advent of prophylactics(in various forms)we women can regulate ourselves and if we are clever enough, take birth control to the point in which we can skip our periods. (I don't know how women do that, I was made to bleed monthly and I'd be paranoid that I was, indeed, knocked up!) Men don't have to worry about getting pregnant. Carry a fetus. Delivering said fetus. They don't have to deal with the havoc that producing and bearing a child (I don't know first hand, but I am assured it does) wrecks on the body. Once again, lucky bastards.
Thus far, it seems that I am jealous of men. Let me assure you, I hate them. I have seen almost every woman in my life get mucked over by men. They have been lied to, cheated on, they've been played with emotionally, they've had their girlfriends steal in a swoop them, or worse yet, they have ruined friendship (most often temporarily) amongst women (when your friends don't like your guy, your guy doesn't like your friends, you dated a guy and your friend dates him soon after you break up, etc.).
Yes, this is making women victim-y and whatnot, but women and men are ruled by very different things. Women are emotional/feeling beings, whereas men are practical/logical beings. What makes me hate men so much is that women feel as if they are victims. I am guilty of this, too. When I dig a guy, I get tunnel vision. He becomes the only logical/possible mate. Red flags go up and, yet, we ignore them. Instead, we should be saying, I deserve better than this. I am better than this. A man cheats on you. He keeps it hidden. You end up finding out about it on your own accord. You stay together. Although your relationship completely tainted and the trust that you once had, will never be replaced or regained. How can you fully trust someone who easily deviated from you and tried to hide it from you? The man who walks out on you one day and refuses to tell you why. Why do you want to be with someone who doesn't have the courage to be honest with you about how he is unhappy or upset or that he is even thinking of leaving? What about the guy that cannot make up his mind about you. One minute he's hot, then next minute he's cold. If he's that INDECISIVE about you, what else in his life is he indecisive about?
It kills me to see that "men" go around having such blatant disrespect and disregard for the women they claim to love the most. I honestly think that if you get married before the age of 26 you are fucked, royally.
Your 20s should be a time of exploration. Seeing the world. Dating various types of men. Sleeping with a few of them, too. It should be a time in which you develop relationships with both men and women that are strictly platonic. What happens instead is that at the age of 18-22, we think we know everything. Shit, at 22, I was hoping to get married, pop out ninos, and settle into life as a house mom. If you know anything about me and who I am today, all three of those options are grossly unattractive to me. Marriage, no thanks. Kids, I'd be the first in line to "clean the litter box," and stay-at-home Mom, I'd sooner DIE!
Our 20s mold us, change us, define us. Woman, especially in our Western Culture have been raised to become Moms. Think about it, little girls favorite toys: BABY DOLLS and EASY BAKE OVENS. Men, at the same time, are raised with toys. These simple things help define our gender roles and what is appropriate for boys and girls. I just feel that women get so caught up in men and boys way too soon. I don't know anyone who has gotten married young and not found themselves wondering, "what if?" You shouldn't have to wonder. You should take time to develop you and understand your own independence before you get strung up with someone and even consider sharing the rest of your life together.
I think women think that finding a guy is, like, the hardest thing, ever. It is, it ABSOLUTELY is. But why should you (or anyone for that matter) settle for less, for second best. You have to be picky. There are the preliminary criteria that has to match up, then compatibility comes into play (on various levels), and lastly, you have to decided whether or not you cannot tolerate so and so's bullshit. (This may appear to be negative, it isn't meant to be.) Say, Joe (the guy you are dating) has a really annoying laugh (I know, petty, but hey, it's a valid point) you have two options: Suck it up or lump it. Are you willing to deal with that annoying laugh or is it a deal breaker? Something that simple can be a deal breaker.
I know I sound really bitter, but it's not so much bitter, but more frustration. I wish things were simple. I wish women didn't over think. I wish men were a little more aware of their feelings. In a perfect world this would all exist, right? I want it to, too. There is so much good and awesome in the world. Experience it. Now, in our 20s (especially the early 20s) is the time to be selfish and get in touch with you. Don't take things too seriously. Working for a living isn't fun. Relish college. Relish the crap jobs you have in order to get by.
I guess to wrap this all up because I don't really know what direction to take this in and where to go with it, I've stated what needs to be stated. So, here's a Madonna lyric (in true GAY MAN fashion), "Don't go for second best, baby, put your love to the test, you know, you got to, make him express how he feels, cause baby, then you'll know your love is real." Lastly, remember this: ALL WOMEN are CRAZY and ALL MEN are ASSHOLES. Bottom line. Once you have embraced that statement figuring out this GIRL vs. BOY thing becomes a piece of cake.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
I cannot believe how quickly these two (academic) years have flown by. How much I have worked. How much I have missed out on. How much I have cried. How much I have grown. How much I have stressed. And here it is... the finish line is in sight. I have 6 weeks left. SIX. One class and viola, I have accomplished another item on my "TO-DO LIST" in life.
My MBA program has taught me a lot about myself and I have within my reach a wealth of knowledge that I never expected to obtain. Let's face it, my undergrad is Psychology with a minor in Theatre. I did not take a single business, economics, accounting, marketing course during that time. Was an MBA in my future plans? No, but you know me. I get whims up my ass and once I start something I am determined to follow through.
One of my favorite memories was during my accounting class, which I hated. Ugh! Numbers. I don't see FINANCE or ACCOUNTANT being added to whatever job title I end up obtaining. What happened in this particular class was that our professor was passing out some handout (the actual handout escapes me). I hate accounting and I detested my professor (along with everyone in the class with me). It took me a minute to start paying attention, searching for split ends was much more important at the moment. Once I finally glanced down at my handout, I thought "oh, it's an invoice." My professor was droning on about some equation or whatnot (really, I am surprised a pulled off a B- in this course). I just knew that whatever he was babbling about had nothing to do with this invoice.
This invoice was an invoice for sex toys! I kid you not. It had items on there that would make the average person turn beet-red. It just made me smile. Digging into my strong dislike for this professor, I gently raised my hand and said, "I don't think I have the proper hand out. What does um, cherry-flavored edible body pens and vibrating balls have to do with yada, yada, yada?" He looked at me puzzled and bewildered while the rest of the class laughed.
I really also loved Casey introducing his profession at the beginning of each class. "Hey, I'm Casey I have a degree in Criminal Justice and I work for Palm Mortuary. I pick up dead bodies." People always get caught off guard by this profession and usually a million question ensue.
I am so grateful for this experience and so glad that it is reaching its final chapter. I just hope the world is my oyster and I land a stellar, amazing job... because looking at my student loan estimated payments makes me think I may have to take a job in Parhump as a LADY OF THE NIGHT.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
ONE. School is a biotch for the next 6 weeks, then I am free! No more school until I decide to get another Master's and plunge myself further into scholastic debt. Don't worry, I have a plan though. I am going to go Anna Nicole style. Minus the drugs and the annoying voice. TRIM SPA BABY version 2.0, bank on that.
TWO. Lack of internet still exist at my house. The clowns down the street (no joke, SANDOU the CLOWN is two doors down) don't have their internet secured. So bless them and see their show, so that I may continue (for the time being) to steal their internet.
THREE. I have a bunch of material and about 3 or 4 blogs started. Some of which are very personal and I am not quite sure I want to share them with the whole world. So, we will wait and see.
Trust me! I am still writing. I miss it. Right now, my time is just consumed with work, school, the gym, and my friends. I am getting my life straight. One step at a time.
Hope all of you are doing well. Kisses and hugs!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The reasons why, this is a public blog and anyone can access it. Also, I have my own insecurities and secrets that I chose to keep. Lastly, because I don't think that's what the purpose of my blogging is. I think my purpose is to share the nonsense of my life. The extraordinary things, not the inner workings of my madness. Twice as much, I like to make people laugh and feel good. I never want to make people sad or feel like shit; it's just not my style.
I also think that my inner thoughts and my feelings are personal, really personal. And not meant to be shared with the world. I really am reluctant to share a lot of me with a lot of people. As much as I am personable and as much as I love people and I appreciate them and their life experiences, I am not one that is too apt to share my life stories.
This stems from me opening up to people and getting burned by them pretty badly. When I share what is going on in my head and my heart, it makes me feel instantly closer to you. I've let down my wall and let you see a real piece of me. The Jessica that isn't all glittery-goodness and crass, but the deep thinker, the Jessica that really matters. I don't like feeling too close to people I don't fully trust. Most of you will know when this happens, you'll say something to the effect of, "this is a side of Jessica I have never seen before" or you will at least think that sentiment.
Yes, I am someone who knows a lot people, but I don't trust every person fully. There are people that I trust and even fewer people I don't have to tone-down myself down with. People are so judgmental. The worst thing in the world is to bear your soul to someone to have them put you down for it, run their mouths about it, or use it against you in the future. All of which, I have experienced firsthand, as have most people. I am a fairly open person, most things in life are taken way too seriously.
Please note that if you have seen the meltdowns, you know my fears, you have seen me cry (at something other than the news or movies), if I call you, if I text you for no apparent reason, if I ask for your advice, if I try to set time for us to get together, know that you are golden or at least on your way there.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I don't know if this a gripe or if this is flattering, but, whenever I am out and about, random strangers will stop and stare at me or they will engage in a full blown conversation (or sometimes attempt to).
This happens everywhere. I will be out to breakfast with my girlfriends and some random family will start chatting me the effe up. Let's be honest, I like to shoot the shit and most times, I don't mind the distraction, usually.
Last night was one of the especially rare instances of this whole "something about Jessica" phenomenon. My girlfriend and I were waiting to get my car (note: LARGE and IN-CHARGE MARGE) from valet. My friend and I were talking and first these gay dudes came up to me, one grab my hand, told me I was pretty and I had big boobs. Nice, classy, they are my brethren (see also: Why I Am A Gay Man), it made me smile and laugh. Here is where it gets a little strange. Then this dude walks past me, then turns around, stops and stares. He proceeded to do this 3 times. What the hell? Being the little minx that I am (and my shitty, who gives a damn attitude), I politely ask him, "WHAT?!" He proceeds to tell me, you are so pretty. LAME. Tell me something I don't know. I kind of roll my eyes at him. (This is Vegas. Men and the like are a whole other ball game.)
Usually, when I am waiting in line or even just at a bookstore, people will initiate conversation. I will be at a bookstore or the library (typically quiet, noon-speaking places) and some stranger will try to get all chatty with me... and it is usually about the most random shit, too. (Where's good to eat around here, what conditioner do you use, OMG, your nails are hot, hot. LAME shit like that.)
One time, this lady started yakking to me about UNLV and my sweatshirt. She says something to the effect of, "green and pink, doesn't UNLV have different colors?" This is one of the people that approach me and I get instantly snooty and think, how dare you think you can talk to me. I gave her my BS response, but she kept going and going, then brought her husband over to shoot the breeze. REALLY? You just ate, don't you want to get the hell out of the crowded EGG and I on a Saturday morning?! I am with 6ish of my girlfriends, leave me alone or I will start talking about COLORING (sex) in front of your children!
Every time I have an instance like this, I ask my friends (whomever I happen to be with), what the hell? They respond, you just look like a nice girl. When I hear the term "nice girl," I immediately think of words like frumpy and homely. This first of which that I am occasionally guilty of (who isn't?), the latter of the two, not so much (I am fuckin' hot, duh).
I've chalked up this whole "Wow, I really feel the urge to talk to this girl and tell her my life story, hocus pocus, voodoo" nonsense to being just that. There is something about me that attracts the masses. A Jessica Magnetism of sorts that leaves me irresistible and apparently appreciative of people's random bullshit.
Moral of the story: It's hard out there for us pretty bitches.
Monday, April 13, 2009
But for someone who has a "job" such as yours and deals with the stigma of being a stripper - wait, your friends probably think you are a cocktail waitress or something, right? God forbid they know the truth - you'd think you of all people would be a little more understanding of people and the situations they sometimes find themselves in, especially ones that are out of people's control. I understand a huge part of work for you is keeping up an appearance. I get that. I love to primp, too; I am a girly-girl. (I bet you are frumpy as hell at home, too.) However, taking jabs at people based on their weight and their mental condition(s), it's just plain low. But of course, you have to jab at these things because you are not fat (thanks to genetics) and because you are probably more psychotic than the bitches you talk trash on. Obviously, on some level you hate yourself. You're a fucking educated woman and you take your clothes off for a living. I am sure it pains you that being a stripper doesn't require any cognitive skill either, well, other than being able to shake it in heels, which I commend you on, I am too awkward to wear a heel more than about 2 inches. I mean, you have to be a good actress, too. I love theatre. Hell, I love strip clubs.
What I am just getting at here is: be a little fuckin' nicer. See what you have in front of you. Don't be so judgmental and so negative. You aren't that attractive to begin with and your shitty disposition in life and how you treat people and what spews out of that toxic trap of yours makes you that much more deplorable (and let's face it, you need all the help you can get).
PS: Speaking of getting petty: your hair sucks, your teeth are gross, and your nose, well, I don't like it, bitch.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Truth be told, I suffer from MELODRAMATICS. It's probably one of my best, most exciting qualities. At the same time, it's one of my biggest down falls as well. I love and hate it about myself. I know a lot of my melodramatics stem from me being overly sensitive.
Sometimes my dramatics are hilarious. For example, when I was telling some girlfriends about my first time, we were merrily driving along in my car. We turn into my friends apartment complex and my one girlfriend exclaims, "Omigod!" Which freaks me the fuck out so I slam on my breaks and scream, a long drown out, screech. They burst into hysterics so intense that they have tears streaming down their cheeks. They still try to freak me out to get that ridiculous squeal that I make. I was really scared. I have never been in a horrible car wreck, so my vivid imagination goes straight to worst case scenario. Needless to say, should I have screamed? No. But did it enhance the situation? Absolutely. Was anyone harmed? Negative.
I am a bit over dramatic. So what? Yes, sometimes my irrational mind makes me feel like I am crazy, but my hysterics, my mania, my neuroticism are essential to who I am. Imagine how I would be if I wasn't crass mouthed, uncensored Jessica. I mean, in my "posse" I am the Samantha (Sex and the City reference). What would Saturday morning breakfast be like if I wasn't talking about "coloring" or offering my nonsensical advice or spewing out witty remarks? I'd be boring and drab and dull and unglittery.
Sometimes I know I can be a bit much, but we all can be lumped in that category. I have gotten better. I am working on my volume control. If you have noticed, when I am out and about, I ain't so loud anymore. I am becoming more aware of my immediate surroundings. Like always, I am evolving. Slowly, but surely. I wasn't even aware of these changes, but my friend told me about them and they were dead on... creepy how that happens.
What's bad about my meltdowns is that I lose it. I lose my cool. I cry, I get hysterical. It comes in three strengths: Medium, Hot, and Spicy. I freak out. The last flip out I had was in the hospital. I generally freak out when things are not in my control. And if you know me well enough, you will know my meltdowns, but it very rare when Hot/Spicy come out. If you have seen Hot and Spicy. You know you are in my CIRCLE. I know if I saw anyone breakdown they way that I breakdown I would deemed them worthy enough to be carried off to the LOONY BIN. (Again, my theatrics are coming into play.) I hate when I get to that level. I feel out of control.
I have found that I am nowhere near as loca as I was in my teenage years. I am an older, different type of crazy. As I mature, I am becoming this person that is... I don't know. Everything and nothing I want to be. I remember standing in the mirror as a little girl wondering what I would look like as a teenager, as college student, as a twenty-something. I would think about how big my boobs would be and I would dream of a red convertible with a big, bulky car phone (because I was/am determined to be important). I always picture myself with a horrid 80s perm and big puffy sleeves.
I am still very much that little girl who dreams big and has a million hopes and dreams, that gets scared and is a little insecure from time-to-time. I thought I would be at a different place in my life. 10 year old Jessica would have taken over Broadway by 16, pursued Theatre at NYU, and would be married and probably have a child or two, preferably two sons. But you cannot plan life and those moments that catch us off guard and make our world stop spinning are the moments we are most alive, when we grow. At least that is how it works for me.
I have my moods and my wide range of emotions. As does any queen who expects to be in control all of the time. I am fabulous. I am funny. I am capable. I am every awesome color in the awesome rainbow. I am glittery. I am dramatic. And people love it. People love me for being over the top and off the wall. My friends can depend on me to cheer them up and show them a good time. I get in my funks, but I bounce back quickly. Twice as much, how could I be a drama queen ho if I am only sequins and Spandex? I have to shake things up, I have to show my versatility.
Here I am with a tiara, glitter, a heart that has band-aids and super glue holding it together. I am not perfect, but I only know how to be me and live my fabulous, ridiculous life. This is my life, this is my production. And I will always graciously take my bow and allow you to throw roses at my feet. I am a princess, after all.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
There are some interesting writings out there. Some that make me laugh and cry and feel every other emotion under the sun. I appreciate a different outlook on the world and reading people's semi-guarded thoughts.
BUT and I mean that as a BIG, BIG BUT: There are A LOT I have stumbled upon that are from the stay at home mom-type, gushing over their child(ren), excessively; and I find it disturbing. I guess these particular blogs are out there to let family and friends know the day-to-day happenings (especially those friends and families that are in far off, distant lands). It's like these women (I haven't found one run by a man, yet) have nothing better to do than post their offspring all over the god forsaken internet and broadcast their "bundle of joy's" first fart, first finger painting, first solid food. Good grief. Your children, when the grow up (especially during their teen years) they will resent you for posting photos of them sitting on their Play-Skool "big girl" toilet. Trust me, they will want to cut you.
There are some Moms, however, who have children that have special needs and I absolutely love reading about their loin fruits, not because they are special, but because these are kids that have to fight to feel happy, that deal with great amounts of pain daily, these kids are innocents. One of the Moms even talks about how people stare at her child as if he were a mutant. Sometimes, we all take advantage of how normal we look or appear to be. I get moved from reading about the little girl who has down syndrome and is making strides everyday, that uplifts me, when that 5 year old triumphs, I triumph and my cold, black heart gets a little less cold. Or the mother who's daughter has a rare and fatal condition. I thrive on these blogs, I celebrate the milestones these children are making. These anonymous stranger posts let me catch a glimpse of a side of life I will never know.
I keep waiting for my "maternal instinct" to kick in, but I don't want to reproduce, ever and I think my biological clock came with fine print: batteries not included. (And I am not searching for batteries either - unless they go into something that buzzes, ya know.) I have my Baby Deanzo and he means the world to me, but you don't see me plastering my page with his little mug. I am sure y'all would just love to see Deanzo popping a squat in his litter box with that concentrated face he makes. (Just thinking about him doing this makes my insides burst with glitterly laughs!)
I hate that I am sounding so negative right now, I am not meaning to. I want to read people's opinions. I want to see their thoughts on anything, not about "Baby Boy Jr." and his first steps and how the whole family happened to be there and they all clapped and were excited and made a cake in the shape of shoes to celebrate. Tell me about the cake, and how you made it look like a shoe, what kind of shoe was it? A Prada? A stark white Ked, with a trademark blue label!
First it was Mom Jeans, now it is Mom Blogs! Maybe I am just bitter these bitches (yes, I called YOUR MOM a bitch) get to stay at home all day and write. Maybe I should go get a sugar daddy and get knocked up so I can fill the world with even more of my ridiculous ramblings.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Anyway, I got caught off guard today in the ladies room at Target. (On a side note: what the hell is it with Target that after roaming the store for an hour, I have an overwhelming urge to pee and I have to venture to use a public restroom. I kind of love the intense gotta-go feeling because once you get to piddle, it feels great (almost orgasmic).) Falling victim to my reoccurring "Target curse," I had to hall ass to ladies (Clueless reference).
Whenever I use a public restroom (besides in a nice Casino), I try to make my time in the restroom as brief as possible. Target bathrooms freak me out with all the stainless steal, you see smudges and finger/hand/ foot prints... GAG ME, BLAH!
So, I get to the PIDDLE-UTORIM and I take an almost orgasmic tinkle, flush the toilet with my foot and exit the stall... Then wablam! Right in my face is a pair of middle-aged knockers! The lady must have seen the shock on my face (because I was completely shocked) and she immediately said, "Oh! I am so, so sorry." I told her, "Don't worry about it, there are a lot more offensive things in the world than a pair of boobs, which are a natural thing." She just laughed and continued talking to me while I washed my hands and in the process elongated my time in the restroom.
It was so flippin' bizarre. I have had to make costume changes when I am out and about, but always go into the handicapped stall. I kept thinking what would happen if a Mom walked in with her, 6 year old son...
To the lady at Target, was that necessary? Really? Was it? I mean as amused as I was at the situation (fuck, I am writing about it, aren't I?), what I really wish I would have said to her was... What the fuck are you thinking? Why did you feel the need to take of your bra, too? And even more peculiar, Why are you changing right in front of the bathroom door? It's like she wanted to give me (and whoever else happened upon that bathroom) a peep show!
Lesson learned today: I have to be in the mood for boobs. I cannot have them just randomly in my face. I need to brace myself.
Good grief bathroom streaker bandit; I hope we (she and I) meet again. And ladies, when you are in a public restroom, keep your mammary glands to yourself.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
After I graduate, I am going to spend a lot of quality with my laptop (and a lot less time looking at porn) rehashing some of my most random and hysterical shenanigans. We all know I deliver in that department.
For example, my latest NINJA mission was seeking revenge on my ghetto-unfabulous neighbors. Awhile ago, I wrote about these bastards and how gross and vile they are. These fuckwads BBQ in their front yard (they did it ALL winter long); well, let's just say that their BBQ is now M.I.A. This story, which I know has you all at the edge of your seat, will most likely end up in a leather bound, first edition.
Let's just say, I am really excited about this concept and I have the masses telling me that they love to read what I write. Who knows, if this whole "book" thing plays out as well as I hope it does, then maybe I can just be a freelance writer... and travel and go out and about and create even more ridiculousness. "Jessica Does Dallas," coming soon to a theatre near you... So, Dave Sedaris, eat your heart out, there's a new queen of the short story.
Monday, March 30, 2009
I can remember one of the first times I met you, it wasn’t in the band room, it was actually in the auditorium at Cashman Jr. High where we both were Commancharos! Go Yellow and Red! You were this tall crazy outspoken girl playing basketball and I was a delicate cheerleader with a bad perm. I would cheer for you chanting “we want a basket…” well, all 50 of us. Later in high school you went to Bonanza and I went to the best high school ever, Clark. We were separated and torn apart from the hip. Like fate you and I were embracing once again at the Half Time Show Review in our ugly band uniforms. I remember sitting in the bleachers next to Tammie and I heard my name being screeched. As I looked down you were jumping up and down in your poop outfit, clarinet in hand! I almost tripped over 20 people to get that hug that I had been waiting for years. (Do you remember that?). God those were the days. Then, like a criminal you were torn away from me once again and sent to crazy camp. It wasn’t until we were adults that we reconnected. You found me on MySpace and before we knew it we were trying to come up with excuses to leave Melinda the Magnificent and all her dragon slayer friends. And there is where Lauren Slappy was born! I know you have that picture we took together, find it and send it to me please! Since then we have grown to be so close.
As loud as you are, as graphic and unfiltered as you are, you mean more than I can express. I accept you for you. I don’t care if your “Vegas Famous”, or your situation with MM, or your half organs, I love you! You are intelligent, beautiful, dedicated, inspirational, confident, real, and many more adjectives that I can’t think of. I think what I love the most about you is you always know what to say to me when things are looking bad! I tend to do things based on emotion and you talk me out of potential disasters. You’ve been through a lot so you know what to say. You’re not afraid to be vulnerable!
E- excellent listener
I love you. If I could redo my wedding party, and I would, I would have you standing up there next to me and Tammie. Don’t worry, we will renew our vows and you will be there!
(THIS IS THE ABOVE MENTION PICTURE - We make DRAGON SLAYIN' look good!)
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
1) Katy Perry's "Hot N Cold" track. As much as I tried hating her at first, I gave in to Ms. Perry. This song rocks my socks. I hear it about 4 or 5 times a day and I am not sick of it. In fact, something in me takes over and I start jamming to it! I think I love this song because it reminds me so much of a certain someone. This song makes me insanely happy, if you are ever driving along the 15 during rush hour or are stuck on Hell Blvd. (Blue Diamond), you will get a first rate show. On a side note, I still want to punch Fergie in the face, the only good thing to come out of her trap is "workin' on my fitness," which has become my motto! C'est la vie. Oh, and I still swear that if I ever meet her I'd day, "Fuck you Fergilicious, big girls DO in fact cry." I may even toss in the middle finger for shits and giggles.
2) Body Pump. It's not easy getting up at 5:05 AM to go torture myself and usually within the first 5 minutes, I regret the decision, but when all is said and done... I feel SO good about myself. I got through it and I did a kick ass job. I also met an amazing person, Monica, who happens to be the instructor. She's ridiculously motivating and funny; she's an awesome person and I am beyond thrilled that we are friends!
3)Dresses. Really, I am loving the fact it is getting HOT. My body is getting smaller, so I am thinking I want to flaunt the improvements! Dresses also pair nicely with flip flops, which I live in almost year round. If only I enjoyed shaving my legs... someone want to buy me electrolysis? Please and thank you!
4) Obama. Good God, I love him. Really, he has not disappointed me too much. Yes, a lot of Vegas folk were offended by his "you shouldn't be having big hoorahs in Vegas..." comment. It's absolutely correct. Sorry to my buds in the service industry, but it make sense. You cannot cut out middle management, then take the higher ups on a weekend getaway to the city of Sin... it makes no sense.
5) Baby Deanzo! Really, I love him so much. He makes every shit-tastic day better. He's my sunshine, lollipop, rainbow. (Do you people really question my gay man status?) I also love my Beans and Zuki Muffin. My cats are all sorts of delicious.
6) Unity Church. In my quest for all things AMAZING, getting back in touch with God is the right move. I went to services and cried. How often do you go to church and get uplifted? Really? I've never been to a church where the Reverend says, "we do not discriminate based on race, creed, sex, ORIENTATION, political persuasion..." My goodness was that refreshing. Thank you Cherice, this is the best gift you could have ever given me. I hope I can share it with others.
7) Manicured finger nails. Yes, I have acrylics (because I am a disgusting nail biter) and I love them! I don't care how "fake" or "hooker" or "insert trashy insult here" they are assumed to be; they make me feel so girly, pretty, and happy. Also, this week, I got a kick out of choosing black nail polish only to have my manicurist throw it in a drawer and to which I rebuffed stating, "no, I wanted that color!" He looked at me confused and said, "REARRRRY?!" (I know, I am a shitty racist), and I said, "yes, I want black, it's like my soul." I KILL me.
8) Blogging. It's an addiction. I love typing some of the nonsense that flows through my brain. It's all sorts of tasty. I also am being blog stocked. My "views"are entirely too high for the amount of "followers" I have. I am VEGAS FAMOUS, after all.
9)Jason Segel. Fuckin' A. Someone I know has to know him. We need to meet. I am entirely convinced he is my soul mate. Have you seen Forgetting Sarah Marshall? I Love You, Man? Knocked Up? Oh man, he's hysterical! Really, I still pine for Ben Affleck and Paul Rudd, but Jason is now at the top of my "spank bank" list. Mmm... he's just delicious.
10) Post Secret. Dear Frank, you are amazing! He's liberated so many people. One day, I will make my own post card... Perhaps, I will have a POST SECRET CARD MAKING PARTY! Done.
That's all for now... As for my lack of blogging, there are internet issues at my house... it's currently down (I know, it makes me want to slit my wrist, too... I miss HULU and YouTube). This situation should be resolved shortly, fingers crossed!
Monday, March 23, 2009
I have never been one to hold my tongue, but the days of me being concerned with people's feelings about my REAL opinions are over. I am letting it all out. I can't for the life of me keep doing what I have been doing. It's not healthy and I am not happy.
This is me. I live in my skin at the end of the day. I don't want to be "coulda, woulda, shoulda" anymore. I am weeding people out of my life.
So, if I am telling you now that I want you in it (my life) and you don't show the same respect to me, you will soon be gone. Yes, I have a wide network of friends and I know a lot of people, acquaintances are fine and dandy, but the term "friend" isn't going to be used so loosely nowadays. I have a lot of acquaintances and I know a lot of people and I can easily distract myself with any random person... meeting new people isn't hard for me to do. From what I am told (and her goes my ego again) people gravitate to me and it's a true assessment. I am very much a people person (duh, I like to please people, it's plain and simple).
The term "friend" in my book now comes with expectations and requirements. As crappy as it sounds, it really is "shape up or ship out." I am a hot commodity and my time (just like my words) is one of the only things in life I truly own and can be held accountable for. So, don't blow it.
There are some people that I have let slip away, trust me, it's a conscience choice. I am better off without you. Some people will be harder to let go than others, but this about me and right action for me. Not anyone else.
There are people who care about me so much and it's not fair to them or myself to kind of lead people on. I am not going to spread myself too thin. I am going to invest in the people I feel are worth my time, energy, words, and devotion.
This about me. Me, me, me and I want it that way...
Saturday, March 21, 2009
As a friend, I tend to be needy at times, but I can also be very, very distant... almost to the point where I disappear and stop returning phone calls and texts are ignored, but just when you think you have lost me, I reemerge. Thankfully though, I have a wide group of friends that I can keep myself occupied with.
But really? I have to wait for YOU to CALL me? First off, in this particular "realtionshit" I am the one who has to initiate the few calls that we do have. Of course, I said it was selfish and one-sided for it to be this way, but that's what it is. Relationships on any level function as a two way street. I can't be your friend only when it's convenient for you... it's crap and it kind of hurts my feelings. I think I may just like him more than he likes me. Which is okay, it happens in relationships. There are several people who I like more than they like me and vice versa, it happens, it's life. I am thankful to be a part of each and every person I am involved with lives. Really, I don't have a problem meeting new people. Send me anywhere and I guarantee I will make a new friend and have their number in 20-30 minutes. I am a people person. People love the shit out of me, sometimes I feel bad that I spread myself too thin. There are so many interesting people with their life story and I want to hear it all. I gladly welcome random, awkward, stranger conversation; that shit gets me off. (Ugh, sorry, random tangent, back to the focus!)
I wish I could just let him go, but I can't. I invested too much and I care about him. He's in that sacred circle. I just wish I wasn't hidden. I should have gone about things differently. But, it is what it is. I am not sure what it is, but I do know that I don't like it. But nonetheless, I will take it because it is all I have of him and I am willing to take whatever lousy piece I am offered, which makes me feel gross because I am better than that.
I think he regrets me. I am his best kept secret and his biggest mistake. I wish I could be honest with him about the whole thing. It would just freak him out, he would tell me I am an over thinker. Which, yes, I do think a lot, all girls do. I break down, I analyze, I try to figure it out. I think where I differ from others is that I speak out about it. I am neurotic and I let my words flow freely, sometimes it bites me in the ass, but more often I find that people are welcoming to my thoughts and ideas because they are thinking them or have thought them, too.
I think I am just upset that I am not getting my way. I am so use to people jumping at the chance to hang out with me, the fact that someone can have such flagrant disregard of me, kind of has me taken aback. "I'll call you if I want to talk." Of course you don't ever want to talk, you are a boy. Guys are simple. So simple. I just want to pick his brain and get to know him better. Is that so wrong? I am curious about him, is that so bad?
This is just crapola. It's life and you always want what you can't have... and certain cravings are harder to kick than other. NARF-POOEY.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
You: I want the world for you. I see you dreaming of it all the time. You need to go out there and make it happen. You want so much and you deserve so much... I want more for you. I wish you had the confidence I have in you. I believe in you 100% and I know that you are capable of so much more than you realize. I love you for everything you are and everything you are not. You are my mini-me. No Doubt summed it up the best "so different/ yet so the same." I am lost without you. You are my every, everything and in the words of *NSync "there is no me/ without you." You are my true blue. Soon this will be imprinted on me, "I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)."
You: You are my soul mate. I love you. I wish we didn't live on opposite sides of town and we got to see each other more often. You are my favorite dance partner and you are an expert cuddler. I am thankful that we are friends. I never have to bitch about you. I just wish you weren't afraid of food.
You: I am so glad that we are friends. I look up to you in so many ways. You taught me that first impressions aren't always true and that it's okay to be a strong woman. In may ways, I admire you. You really aren't a "feelings" kind of person, but I am rooting for you. You deserve the world. I wish I had better answers for you. Thank you for listening to my craziness and not necessarily understanding it, but just being there. I really hope to be more like you in a lot of ways. I am so proud of you.
You: You are just as sensitive as I am. I am glad this last year we have gotten so much closer. I know that you mean well. You are one of the only people I support in "wanting" to have a baby and I am really excited to be there for you when the time comes! I am looking to you for moral guiding, I haven't admitted this to you, but I think you know how lost I am. You know how mushy and insecure I am inside. I am glad that you are able to see through my obnoxious exterior and peek into the real me. You are an amazing, beautiful woman. I am so proud to call you "friend."
You: Stop fucking up your life. Red flags are everywhere! You have pushed away all the people in your life who give a shit about you. Don't worry, we aren't going anywhere we will welcome you back with open arms... Someday, I hope you will learn to love yourself and realize what you are worth. You are better than that. I know you are a good person, but you are not the sharpest tool in the shed. You will get to where you need to be some day. I have full confidence in you.
You: I love how different and weird and nerdy you are. I mean that in the most sincere way. I am so glad that we are getting to know each other better. I want us to have a girl date, just the two of us. I want to pick your head a little more. You are an inspiration to me. You are happy, in love, intelligent, and a generous person. You have an inner and outer beauty to you; I think you radiate.
You: God, I wish I could get you off my mind. I think about you all the time, you are my secret obsession. I think deep down you care about me (or at least I fool myself in to thinking you do), but we don't talk about our feelings. I don't regret a single thing we did; I regret not being able to say what I want to say to you. For some reason, I need your approval. You taught me so much about myself and who I am; I am grateful for that. You are so wonderful and I meant it when I said that you just "do it" for me, you do. I really like talking to you. You are so different from anything I have ever had before, I like your flavor. You will always be my "what if" scenario; she's so lucky and I am completely jealous.
You: I think I hate you. You were a good friend when I needed one, but our relationship fell through the cracks because I let it. You use my weakness and my moments of vulnerability against me. I've seen you do it to others. You need a lesson in "nice." You can't have real friends until you learn to be one. I will always have a special place for you and am grateful for the facade you carried on for so long. You are a bitch and not in a good way.
You: I wish you gave a shit about me. I feel incredibly used by you. I have done everything I can for you because I love you and trust you. I just wish you didn't put me on the back burner. You make me feel second best. I hope you find someone good for you and who will treat you well. You deserve it, but I think deep down, you don't think you are good enough for it. You are! You so are. I know things will fall into place for you. I also think you are about to make a huge mistake.
You: Damn, I love you, but you are such a fair weather friend. I wish you weren't all talk. I wish you would use your skills to do something better for yourself. I hate that you settle. You are selling out. Stop letting people string you along. I want more for you and I know you want more for yourself, but staying with something "comfortable" is selling yourself short. I know we will always be friends. Forever and always.
You: Stop being such an idiot. Your heart is pure gold. Get your priorities straight and you will be fine. You don't need others to gratify you. You are worth it, you just need to believe it yourself. Life is a struggle and those others that have wronged you, they will get theirs in the end and we will eat cake and snicker in spiteful joy! I love that we have nothing in common, it's the appeal. You are great and I do love you.
You: I am sorry. I don't know how to say it to you. Sometimes, I suck, a lot. I really meant it when I said I wish we were better friends. I blew it.
You: You have given me everything. You mean the world to me. You are the one person I can depend on through everything. I wish you had better communication skills and didn't mind the phone so much, but you are all the good that lies in me. Thank you for you heart, I share mine with you. You are my role model. I am so thankful that you finally are at a place where you are truly happy and I hope you don't blow it. I love you with every piece of me.
You: I wish you liked me. I know you love me, but I hold so much resentment in my heart for you. You only seem to give a shit when I am in a deep crisis and then you throw me to the wolves again. We have a love-hate relationship, I have accepted that. I just wish it were different, but we are far too stubborn and far too much alike to ever live in balance. Thank you for all that you have done. I know you thought it was best at the time. I love you and am embracing the fact that I am becoming more and more like you.
You: I am not sorry. Not at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat, no hesitations. I wish you weren't so negative and so pretentious. You are so fascinating to me, you are part of my obsession, too. I doubt you will ever read this, but my god, you are a bitch. If only you knew...
You: I love you. I wish we were as close as we used to be. I loved being able to confide in you. I know we have coffee dates here and there (half of which we cancel or forget or space it), but you have proven to be such a powerful confidant. I am glad that we are branded with the same symbol. I am going to try and be a better friend to you.
You: I hate you. I cannot believe we were ever close. The secrets I have learned about you have disgusted me. I wish we weren't related. It makes me happy to know that you are suffering. Your acts have cause incredible pain to those you are supposed to love the most. You are sick. You are scum. I can't wait until the world is free of you.
You: You are my comfort, my joy. I am so glad that I stole you. You keep all of my secrets. You are full of such unconditional love. I know that you are a cat and you cannot read, but you deserve to be on this list, too. You are always right by my side as I am pouring my heart out on the computer or in my journal. My life would not be the same without you. Thank you for not pooping in my shoes. Mama loves you.
You: I miss our long emails and messages to each other. There is something so innocent and good about you. I am afraid if I showed you the real me, you'd run away. I know this is kind of corny, but you are an angel.
You: Girl, we have been through everything together. I love that we keep it real. Hurry up and get your ass back to Vegas. We have scandalous shit to get into. Thanks for being my friend, I just wish you would answer the phone when I call.
You: I love you. You have the kindest heart. I love that you pray for me. I aim to have what you have someday, well, minus the kids. I am a cat lady. Thank you for being a friend and for not being selfish. Your kindness and generosity have touched my heart.
You: You have disappointed me more than anyone else in the world. My best and worst moments are with you. You have hurt me more than anyone and I know I have hurt you. Saying I have no affect on you is pure bullshit. I see past the facade. Stop giving a shit about people who are higher up than you. Love the people who care about you. You are chasing after the wrong people. You are so empty and cold inside. I wish you had still had that fire in you like you did when we first met many moons ago. I loved you with all of me. I am glad that you are out of my life. I don't doubt myself as much anymore. I want you to be happy and someday, I want you to apologize to me like I apologized to you. That takes a real man though. Too bad you will always be a boy need others approval. Find what makes you happy.
You: I miss our friendship. I miss being drunk and getting into all sorts of trouble without getting caught. You still have one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. I wish we could get back to what we once head... maybe tequila shots will get us there, once again.
You: I miss being so close to you. I miss living with you. I am so happy that you are in a good place and with a great guy. You are my favorite ninja of all the ninjas. I miss the laughter and the tears and the crappy dance moves. I am so proud of what you have done with yourself and I can't wait to see you grow even more. I really want us to be best friends again. I loved you, insanity and all and I know you loved me, ridiculousness and all.