Tell me a story.
One where life exists among bedsheets and pillows.
There are no such things as physical boundaries.
Such limits are pushed every day.
Each kiss is a meal more delicious than the one before.
The passionate hunger is never satisfied.
The only jobs to be done are to find freckles beautiful…
to make every inch of skin fascinating and captivating…
to lead your love as deep as it can go.
A broken heart is mended with a smile,
loneliness is cured with a sigh,
and happiness abounds with a touch.
And no matter what happens,
it always ends with happily ever after.

How cute is this?? The fortune on the back says “Never settle for anything less than butterflies”.  

Demonstrating Self-Control

I’m not the best looking girl. I have over-sized physical features and I’m terribly awkward, so I’ve never been one of those girls that inspire jealousy in other females. I’m pretty sure no one has ever said, “Man, I wish I looked like/could be more like Jessica”. This is totally fine with me, because I like flying under the radar. Kind of makes me feel like the underdog most of the time. So, since the girls don’t take notice, the boys usually don’t either. However, when one actually does show some interest in me, it’s like I can hear bells ringing in my head. Ding ding…let’s get ready to rumble! Let the flirting commence.
I love to flirt. Who doesn’t, right? I have quite a few relationships with male friends where we can flirt with each other incessantly and it never goes farther than that. Every time I begin dating someone new, I have to preface our relationship by telling them that I have male friends who I have flirty friendships with but it means nothing. Nothing will ever come of it. Luckily, I don’t feel a legit attraction to many of these guys, and, even the ones I would be attracted to, we know where we stand with each other. It makes our friendships exciting, fun, interesting, and it definitely helps keep the confidence at a healthy level. No one can tell me that they would ever reject a good compliment. 

The Place Dreams Come From

Have you ever had one of those dreams where, when you wake up in the morning, you say, “Where in the world did that come from??” I’ve always heard that dreams are compilations of things you experienced or saw during the course of the day. Most of the time, this is completely true for me. I fell asleep one night with Jersey Shore playing in the background, so I had a dream about being at the Jersey Shore. Makes sense, right? However, last night, I had one of those dreams that was clearly concocted in some hibernating and odd place in my neural synapses.
I do not remember the entire dream, but the one scene that sticks out as the most vivid is as follows: I was hanging out with some guy (who I’ve never seen before) at a local, outdoor mall. He had some beat up clunker sitting in the middle of the walkway that he was busily working on, and I was basically hovering over him, watching his every move. At one point, he turns toward me and starts kissing me. Within the next few moments, he starts pushing me onto the car and removing clothes and all that. Then, without warning, he jumps up, shouts something about his dad being right around the corner and then shoves me away. So I, completely frazzled, grab my clothes and begin running topless around the buildings, trying my best to hide and dress at the same time.
…..What the….can anyone explain that?!?!?

Don’t make me move.
Just stay inside, close,
breathing my air
and dancing to my heart beat.
Draw me closer and push me away.
Ravage me with a look
and dismiss me just as fast.
I’m always longing.
A perpetual game with you making the rules.
Be my master.
I’m your slave.
Grant wish number one.
Dangle me longer on your thread.
I won’t fight…much, at least.
It poses temptation for your hide and seek.
Come find me.

I saw this…and just about had a heart attack. I want every little bit of this so bad!

The Seasons….Blur

I don’t know about anybody else, but I feel like I need to a long, hard chat with winter. It’s February, and it hasn’t even shown up! While I feel like I should be happy, it is 75 degrees, sunny and breezy outside and I’m pissed! Granted, I live in Alabama, so we never really have the magical, snowy winters that most northern states have….but it has only dropped below freezing a handful of days this winter.   I want the have to wear cuddly sweaters, frosty cars in the morning, turn the heat up to 75 kind of winter. We got so much random snow last year and I think it has ruined me for life.

Doing Something Meaningful

There is an inside joke running amok in my house. In a desperate attempt to cling to the childhood I never had, I find myself putting on a very serious face, looking at my mother and saying, “I could have been a ballerina”. I could have! And it would have been awesome! But…alas…I was too awkward and shy a child to participate in any kind of fun or extra-curricular activities. I could have taken gymnastics, dance, had piano lessons, played baseball (yes, baseball), but I was far too concerned with what the other children would think of me and/or making a complete fool of myself. As an adult, I could honestly care less what people think of me. I mean, I care to an extent, but I do way too many random, odd, and clumsy things every single day to worry about what people are thinking. I guess you could say I’ve embraced my quirky persona. But, every now and then, I think of how different things would have turned out had I actually taken dance classes as a child. I have a teensy bit of natural rhythm, so I think I could have been pretty good at it. I would be limber, in shape and who doesn’t love someone who can dance??
I have a friend I talk to on occasion, and, every time I tell him that I’m bored and have nothing to do, he says, “Why don’t you get a hobby?” It’s a legit and thought-provoking question. For anyone who has spent any time reading my blog, you can tell that I write. It’s something I’ve done for over 15 years, I love it immensely, and I think I’ve been blessed with a natural talent for it. It definitely keeps me in touch with the emotional and spiritual parts of my life, but I feel like I’m lacking in the physical part. Picking up and pencil and scribbling words on paper isn’t exactly a physically demanding action. But…had I been a bold and brazen child, I could have multiple years of dancing on my resume and be very in touch with the physical part of my life. It would be the inner trifecta. Just to pacify this need, I may have to buy myself a pair of ballet shoes and screw around a bit. Jig, leap, twirl and generally have a good, juvenile time. At least I would be doing something new and interesting.

The child in me is screaming with excitement, while the adult in me is…screaming with excitement!

A Mess of Confusion

My sad confession: My name is Jessica, I am 25 years old, and I have absolutely no career path. In the eyes of most of society, my peers and my parents, I am a failure on the highest educated level. But you know what? In a way, I am totally fine with this. I didn’t go in to horrendous debt taking out student loans to pay for college. I spent time at a community college and got my associates in English. (I’m half way there, right?) I’m not fooling myself into a career that I would either a) suck royally at or b) hate every single day of my pathetic life. And, the best part, to be able to do what I really, really want to do, I don’t even need a degree. Bam! What now?!?!

Hoooowever…the adult in me has been stirring lately, and I think it might be time to make a legit career choice.  I can finish school and get a Business Admin. degree, therefore giving me the chance to do…who knows what. Bor-ing! I could become an English teacher. I think I would really enjoy this, but I don’t know how I feel about putting in another three years of school before I can actually start working. Or, I could take my very slim chances and actually try to get a book published.  The more I think about my possibilities, the less things become clear. Sometimes, I wish choices could be easier.

Occasionally, I just get irritated…

Okay, indulge me a minute while I jump the eff on my soapbox. People irritate me. Nearly every day, nearly every minute, nearly every everything. I so badly wish I could understand what people are thinking when they do the most moronic, thoughtless, cruel and selfish things. I mean, is it just me??

Today’s irritation is focused on one person in particular. To save face and health, they shall remain nameless. Anyway, my Facebook gets bombarded every single day with posts from girls talking about their latest pregnancy. Congratulations that you are a teenager, unwed, dropped out of high school and are now popping out children that you can’t afford to take care of. To add insult to injury, these girls have fathers who hold some rank in a local church.  ….All this is nothing new to me. Many girls and guys had to deal with pregnancies when I was in high school.  But! What completely and totally boggles my mind into freaking oblivion….is when a very important adult in my life (and very strong Christian influence), congratulates these girls, likes every single sonogram picture, attends every baby shower, and brings gift after gift after gift.

Um…I’m sorry; Did I miss something?? Isn’t premarital sex (and subsequent pregnancy) a giant ’No’ in the Bible? You will sit there and complain and cry and wonder why these kids keep having babies, yet, turn around, and revel immensely in their baby joy?? You wonder why it keeps happening…it’s because you act like it’s okay! I know you’re supposed to love every one and be a spiritual support, but with all the things you are doing, you are telling these girls that their pregnancies are completely okay and you have absolutely no problem with them.

But, no doubt, the twisted and ridiculous cherry on this mess of a sundae, the one thing that makes me loathe these girls and their ‘good fortune’ even more….is that if I, unwed and financially unfit, turned up pregnant, you would not at all give me the same warm embrace that everyone else gets from you. I would be a pariah, a failure and a whore.  And you wonder why I don’t pretend to be happy for people who don’t deserve it…

Oh man. If I had the available wall space, I would so get myself one of these. It’s much less fuss than an actual paper calendar.

Spread me wide.
My moment of weakness becomes your moment of triumph.
But I won’t let you have all the fun.
A single kiss is just breaking the skin,
but we can always press deeper…
if you think you can handle it.
I know what does the trick.
Your sweat drenches my skin,
letting me know that you agree.
Your body always tattles.
You rock hard, fast when I allow,
thrusting your approval.
But I want to hear you scream it. Loud.
Make your voice the second thing that’s rippling inside of me.
Was your moment good?
Biting lips, tugging hair, and the scratches on your back
seem to point toward yes.
You’ll be back for more.
I guarantee it.