May Day!

May, the month of May in the year 2009 has been... testing, to say the least.

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.

I am stronger.

Strength (n): the quality or state of being strong : capacity for exertion or endurance

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).
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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

The Angry Canadian and the Punch to the Face: a semi-true tale

Once upon a time... No, scratch that, this isn't a fairy tale.

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.

I hate men: a rant

I hate men. I hate 'em.

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.

Reflections from my MBA.

Here it is my almost graduation. One Summer course and that will be Ms. Jessica I. Mullen, MBA to you! I am: Excited. Nervous. Scared. Hopeful. Optomistic. Jazzed.

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.