Where Do Crushes Go When They Die?

Normally when I stop liking someone they turn into someone that I can't stand. Unfortunately, this isn't the case. Not only do I have to see this person on a daily basis, but we run in the same circle. 

I wish I could just sweep this guy and my "once upon a time" crush up under a rug, but it ain't that easy. He is still really good looking to me and he knows it. However, he's good-looking to me in the same way that Johnny Depp is good-looking, he just is. I feel nothing for him anymore, but...(lol! My iTunes started playing the perfect song to describe my feelings). 

Sorry had a little moment, but I'm back.

Anyway, I feel nothing for him anymore, but he believes I do. He'll say certain things to me or give me certain looks and I'll just want to go run and hide in shame for even thinking this person was someone I thought I wanted to be with. WTF was wrong with me?

In the course of two weeks, I've lost two crushes. One has gracefully moved into the slightly irritating yet still cute guy role, while the other one is the subject of which I write. 

I wish I could go back in time and ask the socially awkward 13 year old Jessica what she did in situations like this, because it's been so long since I gave a damn about a crush gone bad. I simply don't know what to do, because I don't want to bring the bitch out. However, I feel her brewing inside every time he gives me that crazy ass Zoolander look that used to drive me crazy. 

Monde de I'imaginaire

Since I've started this blog, it has always been my intention to share poems and short stories that I've written with my audience. However, I never felt this was the appropriate place to post my work. So after months of hyping myself up, I finally decided to share my work with the loyal legion. 

If the loyal legion is interested in what it is that I do when I'm not giving you all the details of my random ass life, then they can go to Monde de I'imaginaire (Realm of Imagination). 

I had to name the new site after something close to home. Why is the title in French? I've been listening to a lot of Vanessa Paradis lately and I really want to learn French. Also, I did write my first poem when I was in 6th grade about imagination. I don't remember what it said, but it must have been good since my English teacher asked me if she could have it. 

I wish I still had that poem instead of the faint memories of its title and content, but oh well. I guess I've been making up for that with the endless amount of notebooks filled with what I once thought was silently cluttered nonsense.

I will be sharing my work with the loyal legion and accept work from others. If anyone would like to participate in my newest project they could send their poems and/or short stories to Writerado@yahoo.com.

Oh and comments will be encouraged and accepted on this new page.

Girl!

I really don't like shit starters.

The one thing that I really don't like about shit starters, is that no matter what happened in the moments leading up to the moment of conflict, the shit starter will make everything look like it's your fault.

Punk asses! Gross...

Recently, I had an encounter with a shit starter at a friend's party. I knew she was a shit starter because she and I had almost gotten into it before. She (like many other shit starters) clearly don't understand how to mind her own fucking business. The first time she and I had gotten into it, I told her point blank to get the hell out of my face. I didn't use violence, I used my words. Although they were aggressive, they got my point across, and she got out of my face.

However, I'm guessing home-girl forgot her lesson from our previous encounter and decided she had every right to interfere with an issue that had nothing to do with her. It all started with a camera phone.

I don't like people taking pictures of me without my permission. Now in a party situation, I normally don't mind, but when the party is fucking over, all cameras should be turned off. Why the hell you taking pictures of people as they're walking out of a door?

Anyway, that's exactly what happened to me, by someone I didn't know. I was already not in the best mood, so when that flash went off, I snapped. I grabbed the guy's camera and was getting ready to delete the picture, when this asshole grabbed me by the hood of my sweater. This move clearly made me more angry, thus inspiring me to break the camera instead. Just as I was about to smash that shit, "little miss mouth" decides she needs to speak up. My attention then went from the dude grabbing my collar and the camera to her.

My first thought was, who the hell is she? Second thought was, why the hell is she here?


I did not know her to be a friend of my friend, but the friend of someone I used to "know", and that I currently cannot stand.

All the anger I had built up inside of me came out on her.

I will be the first to admit any wrong doing on my part, I know I shouldn't take my anger out on people...but I really don't like this bitch.

I must say that I felt almost 100% better after going off on her and almost snatching her neck, but the events that followed forced my moments of 100% bliss to go down to a 87.

I feel kinda meh about the whole situation now. Since it happened just this past Friday, I'm kinda over it.

Hopefully, the next time I see the shit starter nothing will happen. I don't acting like that, but at least she and other shit starters know that I don't play games.

Earworm Alert!

I Feel So BLAH Today...

My Favorite Time Of Year

I have been waiting for this day since the beginning of January. I love March! 

First of all, I'm so ready for winter to be over. I'm tired of the snow, the constant use of my former favorite boots, wearing gloves, scarfs, hats...I'm so over it. It's a shame too. I used to love winter, but after 2011's Chicago snow storms from hell, I'm ready for something new.

I'm also looking forward to the little festivities March brings us. In my world Festivities = Shenanigans, and I'm so ready for them.

I believe I save up all of my energy for March, because we have :

• Fat Tuesday
• St. Patrick's Day
• March Madness (GO JAYHAWKS!!!)

I barely go out in fear of not having a good time. These past few months of getting out there and being young has confirmed my fears. I knew Chicago was lame, but damn!

When I first came back from LA, I was having the time of my life. Then I realized it was because I was going out and creating my own fun, and that shit gets kind of exhausting after a while. Why can't fun happen before I enter the party?

March 2011, please don't disappoint.

Jehovah's Little Witness is Stalking Me

I have three days of vacation that I have been looking forward to for some time. All I want to do is eat, drink, sleep, and squeeze in some chores before I have to go back to work on Thursday. However, a decision I made over a month ago is starting to threaten my chances of having a most excellent mini-vacation. 

I wish I could have back the moment I answered the door for a Jehovah's Witness with two children under 5 in cute little snow suits. She totally had them there as bait. It had snowed something terrible the previous night and I thought she needed help. LOL! I was so wrong! 

I was on my way to work so she didn't stay to talk to me about whatever, so she handed over a book, a piece of paper with her phone number on it, and told me TO CALL HER IF I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT WHAT I READ. 

Needless to say, I didn't read the book, I think I threw it away when I got to work. I also no longer have her phone number...why would I call her? She wants to talk about shit that I have no desire to talk about. While I would rather talk about The Fassbender and his triumphant return to the big screen in Jane Eyre, she  would rather talk about God and other stuff that I could care less about. 

This shouldn't come as a surprise to my loyal legion. I have spoken about my dislike of overzealous religious folk in the past. The ones that push their blind religious views on me and try to call me a heathen just because I would rather believe in things like facts over the Bible. I'm not going to apologize for what I believe. I don't push my views on others, but I find that I'm always being pressured into believing in this tomfoolery. 

In the past few weeks, I lived my life like I normally have, then last week there was a note on my door. It was from the Witness, saying that she hadn't heard from me and wanted to know if I had read the book she gave me.

After reading the note, I thought: wow, that's a little aggressive. I had no intention of reading the book when she gave it to me, but I just had to be the good guy and listen to her unlike my neighbors. I laughed to myself, because this kind of shit always happens to me. Every time I'm nice to a complete stranger, they take advantage of me. It's like this, I've these bitches an inch and they want to run with a fucking mile. It's annoying, but I brushed it off; thinking home girl would get the hint.

Now here it is 2/28/2011, and this chick has shown up at the start of my damn vacation with another note. She's lucky I was asleep and dead to the world when she rang the doorbell, or else she would have gotten it something seriously. The way I have been feeling lately would have allowed me to go full force on her ass. 

Chick...I didn't call you. I'm not going to call you. I don't want to call you. Tell Jehovah that, however I'm pretty sure HE already knows. 

Hopefully by the time she shows up again, I have calmed down. And hopefully, my mini-vacation isn't ruined by this little glitch. 

Father

I don't like my father very much. When I was little, he wasn't a very nice man. I have never willingly told my father I loved him. In fact, I have never called him my Dad, Daddy, Pop, or any other name children use in reference to a real father. To be honest, I've never wanted to. 

Growing up, I was pretty much forced to spend every other weekend with him. During this time I experienced physical, verbal, and mental abuse from him that have left wounds that won't heal. It wasn't until after a pointless argument, which ended with him pulling over on the side of an expressway and choking me, that I was given the option of never having to spend time with him again; an opportunity that I gladly jumped at. 

Shortly after I decided to shut myself off from him, I realized that not speaking to him meant that I probably wouldn't speak to half of my family; which also included my little brother and an aunt that I absolutely adored. I swallowed my pride, and chose to forgive and forget. However, I soon realized that although some years had passed, nothing had changed. 

It had been years since that last meeting. I am no longer 17 years old, and he claims to be "saved" (whatever that means). 

This past Monday, the aunt that I once adored passed away. In trying to find out information about her funeral, my father contacted me (via text) and gave me the info that I was seeking. I know how he got my number. Although I'm grateful I have the information for my aunt's funeral, I'm irritated that he was given my information without my permission. But whatever, I'll get over.

However, I'm still angry about the broken promises and everything else that happed all those years ago. I know I should let it go, but I just can't. I'm nervous about seeing him again on Monday because I just know I'm going to say something that I've kept inside for a long time. 

I know that he has been through a lot lately, but I could honestly care less. I also don't care to share details of my life with him. I feel only the people who are actively participating in this thing with me should know what I am and have been doing. As far as I'm concerned, everyone else could fuck off.

This is going to be interesting. I just hope that I can control my emotions this upcoming Monday. Although the day itself is far bigger than he and I, there are just some feelings that just refuse to go away. 

I'm Annoyed

I'm not sure if I'm annoyed because I keep asking this guy to hang out, he'll say yes then he doesn't show, or if it's because I just knew that I shouldn't have even asked him to come out in the first place. Whatever the reason, I know I'm done. 

I'm done asking guys out and ending up with a dud. I'm done meeting guys through friends and he ends up being an asshole and totally alienating me from my friends. And I'm most definitely done with talking to guys I knew when I was in LA only to have me go out to LA meet up with them and realize that I should have just stayed my ass at home. 

I'm done.

I don't know what is so hard about telling someone who's clearly into you that you're just not into them. I have done it plenty of times, but for some reason I don't know why it's so hard for punk ass men to tell you the truth up front. UGH! I hate being led on.

It's situations like this that make me cold and bitter when it comes to men. I'll meet a really nice guy, but I don't buy his nice guy act; because I'm waiting to see when he's going to flip and become the asshole that I know he really is. 

Burn after burn makes a good girl turn bad, and I'm already starting to feel bad for the next one.

The Porn-Stache

Recently, I developed a mild obsession with a guy sporting a porn-stache. I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden I have to see him and the stache at least three times a day, and it sucks because I'll maybe see him once a month...if I'm lucky. 

I got a chance to see both him and the stache earlier today. Being in the midst of all that sexy porn-stachery made me giggle like a school girl. 

In any other circumstance, seeing a guy my age with a porn-stache would make me run in the opposite direction. Normally, a guy sporting the porn-stache is a Grade-A creeper who spends his time in bars hitting on the incoherent drunk chick. However, this guy is a good guy (I think) with no signs of being a creeper. 

Now all I have to do is contain myself whenever I'm in the presence of the sexy porn-stache. It's going to be hard, but I think I can deal. 

I Saw Tossed Salad Man Last Night!!!

Now when I saw him last night, I wasn't paying him or his buddy any attention. However, the situation looked relatively normal. They were waiting for an elevator at my job when I approached. 

Tossed Salad Man kept looking at me in a strange way, and when I got irritated I looked at him and I'm pretty sure my face turned white. It only took me seconds to recognize him. It was no sense in denying that I was scared as hell. I ran away so fast and unsmoothly (that's not a word). I'm pretty sure he knew that I knew he was Tossed Salad Man. 

The story of Tossed Salad Man is a horrible one. I don't like to retell it, but I'll watch it whenever I feel mischievous. I have to remind myself that if I get into trouble I might go to jail, and if I go to jail, I might have to do something that I really don't want to do. 

I hope I never have to see this man again. 

Even Chris Rock knows about Tossed Salad Man:

Tossed Salad Man has the same effect on me as Fleece "Booty Warrior" Johnson has on me

I really want to cut my hair...again

I used to wear my hair very very short, and I loved it. However, it started to get a little too expensive to keep up. Since I've grown my hair out, people have told me that they like the style better and that it makes me look a lot older. I know I shouldn't care what people say about my hair, but it was nice to finally have people say that they liked what was on my head instead of asking me why I cut my hair in the first place. 

But now, I have finally had enough. Enough with the tangled mess that lies atop of my head. It drives me crazy! My hair is the longest I have ever let it grow and sometimes I think people are following me. 

The longer hair is low-maintenance hair, which is surprising because you would think the shorter is easier to manage. NO NO NO! With my short hair, since I don't have a girly bone in my body (except maybe when I scream and run away from spiders), I have to go to the salon once a week to have it done. A trip to the salon (my stylist and the only person who is allowed to touch my hair is Shantell) is about $90 plus tip, and remember there are 52 weeks in a year. So let's caluclate: 90.00 x 52 =$4,680 a year...tip and tax not included. I don't know about my loyal legion, but I ain't got $5000 to just throw away. So right now I'm loving my low-maintenance hair, styling it is completely free. 

So you see why I don't just go ahead and cut it all off! I have to sit down and contemplate, take all of these different factors in before I make up my mind. I wish someone will help me make up my mind, but it's a decision I have to make on my own. 

*le sigh*

I'm going to go wash my hair.

Why get married?

I work with married couples registering for much needed wedded items to fill their first matrimonial homes at a major department store. When I first got the job, people were telling me that brides are the worst in the world to work with; then I started to encounter one too many dreaded, verbally abusive, arrogant, asshole grooms-to-be. 

Just two days ago I had what seemed like a lovely couple register with me. Then came the tour of the home store when the bride-to-be asked a question about flatwear (forks & spoons). I didn't think it was stupid, but it obviously pissed the groom-to-be off so much that he called her a "fucking idiot" and told her to "use her fucking brain for once". At that moment, my body tensed up and I got flushed with rage. If she is so fucking stupid why the hell is he marrying her?

I, surprisingly, shut my mouth and kept on talking like I didn't hear a word, but when I looked back to the bride-to-be she was crying. I'm not sure if she was crying because of what he said to her (since I'm sure he spoke to her like that on the regular) or if she was embarrassed. I asked her if she was okay and if she wanted me to give her some tissue, she said no and told me to continue. So I did. I'm not going to feel sorry for someone who stays in that kind of a situation.

So why am I posting this? Because I'm angry. I'm angry that majority of the women I deal with would rather be married to an asshole than have self-respect. Is being married that important that you would allow yourself to be disrespected and abused verbally, mentally, or physically?

Which brings me to a bride who had just gotten married and wanted to purchase the remaining items on  her registry. I began helping her complete the registry, when her husband showed up and completely took over and told her what she should buy, how she should purchase them, and where they should go. I normally appreciate when a man takes charge (it's what I look for in a partner), but not in a way that is so over-bearing and abrasive that it's a complete turn off. The only men that I know who participate in such behavior are insecure men out to prove a point, and I absolutely hate insecure men. 

So anyway, to make a long story short, it came time to change the address on the registry, because like most couples they had now moved into their matrimonial homes and vacated their former pads. The bride wanted to change the address to the Chicago address instead of leaving the former Peoria address as the shipping address although she was still receiving mail and wedding gifts at that location. The groom, said no! because the whole process was taking a long time and he wanted to go home (why didn't he just go home in the first place? We were doing just fine before he showed up!). They started to go back and forth even after I told them that I could easily change the address on the registry. He yelled, "No!" And kicked her as hard as he could in the shin. After that she agreed that whatever he said was best. 

After dealing with some of these people, I am so turned off by the mere mention of marriage. It's situations like this that tarnish the once beautiful notion of two people spending the rest of their lives together. If this is what marriage is, then I don't want it. I rather be alone than someone's dog.

Earworm Alert!!!

Too much going on right now. I have to get my thoughts together before I post anything, but I've been playing this a lot lately:

EWW!

Why does this always happen to me. I find something that I absolutely adore, then I'm punched in the face with disturbing news. 

Taco Bell, the restaurant I've been having a love affair with for the past 6 months, has been selling me fake meat.

JUST GROSS!!!

According to fitperez.com, Taco Bell is being sued for misleading customers and having them believe that they are selling them 100% real beef win in reality their "beef" is actually made up of wheat oats, soy lecithin, maltodextrin, anti-dusting agents (the hell?), autolyzed yeast extract, modified corn starch, sodium phosphates, other non-meat extenders (my cousin swears it's ants), and only 35% real meat.

What the hell are they feeding us? Is this shit even legal to consume?

Well I don't know about you but I'm pissed...I can't possibly go on.

snatched from  fit perez

I really hate not knowing...

One thing I pride myself on is being a good person who respects others. I don't like to treat others like shit, because I don't like to be treated like that in return. However, it's not always like that for other people.

I know I might make the mistake of thinking that everyone is like me. I give and give, but receive little in return. Especially in relationships, regardless of their stature. 

I just recently began a friendship with someone I thought was a real person. I'm not sure what he is, but I don't think he's all bad.

I found out about his past, and he's been through a lot. He was recently hurt by someone very close to him, and although that person is no longer in his life (so he says), I feel that their presence still lingers. I'm realizing that since this person has hurt my friend in such a non-forgivable way. I don't mind my friend being hurt, but I do mind anger being taken out on me. 

I know I sometimes play the innocent role, but in this case I'm not sure if there is something I said or did that seriously upset my friend. I don't think so. I replay the moments my friend and I had together, and I can't come up with anything so negative or heinous that it would turn a seemingly nice and respectful man into a cold and heartless human being. 

I hate not knowing what's going on, but I do know this will be the last time I will ever allow this to happen.

Happy Anniversary!!!

I have officially been writing on this blog for a year. YAY!!!

What a journey it has been. I can honestly say that the person who started this blog is exactly the same person who is writing this post. I didn't go into this for change, or to document the life of a socially awkward outcast, but just to have something to do. 

This blog has been my baby for the past year. And if this blog was my baby and I its mother, then I must be the Joan Crawford "Mommy Dearest" mother. YAY!!!

Throughout the process of writing about my life I have made my loyal legion laugh, cry, moan, groan, angry, and cringe, but no matter what you all have stuck with me. I really appreciate that, thank you.

My favorite posts from the past year:

• My Matrix Paper
• St. Patty's Day 2010
• Sandra's Got A Baby
• The One About The Ghost
• When I Put Gum In That Poor Girl's Hair
• An NBA Bromance
• When That French Dude Followed Me!!!
• I Miss Mara, Marie, Blossom, Todd, Gulsen, Denise (RIP), Jackie, Nikki, Suzy, John, Jason, Eve, Jon, Ryan, The Germans, and Danny
• Conan 1
• Conan 2
• Religion 
• Me vs. Stupidity
• Being Betrayed By My Cell
• Jonathan Taylor Thomas

pic snatched from miss taylor

What Resolution?

Is there really a point in making one anymore? No one ever follows through with them; well I know I don't. I remember last year it was to stop drinking so much, and as I sip on my third cocktail, I see that didn't go so well.

I didn't even bother this year. There are some things I could work on, but whatever! When it gets annoying to others, maybe that's when I'll do something about it. However, not one of my many issues is something I could focus on long enough to fix. 

I spoke to a friend today, and she told me that my resolution should be finishing one of my many scripts that I allowed her (and only her) to read. I didn't like that. First of all! I don't like being told what to do, and second, writing takes time. I refuse to sit in front of my computer and just type. I have to feel what I'm writing to be able to call myself a writer. If I don't feel anything, then I feel like one of those coffee shop computer posers.

I guess I could finish something tonight. 

Lately, I've been having some pretty random thoughts. I've jotted them down, but together, none of  it makes sense. 

Maybe my resolution should be for me to take the time out to understand myself.

AHHH! I'm hopeless.

So Long!

Earworm Alert!