The Duct Tape.

By popular demand, I am going to cross post from my secret blog.
Yes, yes..I write things elsewhere and like here, my thoughts and writings have taken a noticeable downward turn. I never post my thoughts much because I fear that things will be thrown back at me or you will think me a Debbie Downer, pathetic, etc.
Are we all happy-go-lucky people ALL the time?
If you says yes, your pills are most likely giving you Lee Press-On happy.
Life has ups and downs.
Luckily, I have had countless ups and very few downs. Currently, I am in a down. Though I am grateful, I think having things so good makes the bad things so much more hard. Carrying hate and disrespect for things I once loved is difficult to sort out and digest when you have never had to do it prior.
I am working hard to find a way back because if I recall correctly...
I used to feel wonderful each day.
So, to conclude this prologue to my post- Good or bad, happy or sad, I am who I am and I am proud to have a heart that has been able to love, eyes that can see past the tallest built walls, the balls to follow my instincts, and the wisdom to appreciate that everything happens for a reason.
Judge away.

December 17, 2008- Have You Been Working Out or Something?


It was about a year ago I had one particular night that tragically went astray.
All day I got girled up. Hedy Lamar hair, Matching vintage bra & panties, Butter cake perfume, the whole kitchen kaboddle.
Leaving to the holiday extravaganza I looked in the mirror and I felt STUNNING.
More beautiful than I thought even I could.
I even wanted to have sex with me!
This is a rarity for me.
I thought,"Yep Jessica, you better do some stretches or something because tonight its on like Donkey Kong. This dress is fuck me elegant. You've come a long way, Baby."

By the nights end, I was sitting in my car, alone, and feeling more worthless and ugly than I have ever felt in my entire life.
For those of you who know me well, you know that I have had a looooong and fugly history pertaining to my outside shell. Lets just say, It was a long walk for me on the "pretty on the inside" road.

I remember thinking then about how when I was a kid I had a particularly painful incident involving a nail through my foot. Child mind thought it somewhat logical that the human body must just run out of tears after a few continuous hours. After a great deal of youngin' sniffling/pondering I ran and asked my dad for the facts. He told me that unlike blood, tears unfortunately were endlessly produced by little holes in my eyes-
this was precisely the reason that they invented "duct" tape.
He didn't convince my seven year old mind that day and yet- here I was as an adult, wishing my dad wasn't right, crying thousands of my ugly meaningless tears that would never run out.
They still haven't.
What your seeing now is just my "duct" tape.

Despite my best efforts, I can't seem to shove this out of my head today. My freakish memory recalls things I personally would choose not to.
I promised myself that I will never ever feel that way EVER again.
Even more importantly, I don't want anyone around me that I love to ever feel that way. I am going to do my best everyday so that you know that your equally hot on the outside as your nougat delicious insides. Doro, I have never seen red lipstick look so good on anyone as it does on you. Teri, I wish my legs were half as long and lovely as yours. Eric, your eyes are blue like the water around your island and other men are jealous of your beard. Alpha your skin is like fucking milk.
Nomie, your ass is perfect and your smile is infectious.
I mean it. Ya'll couldn't be ugly if you literally stapled a turd to your fucking faces.
Thanks for filling my life with eye candy as well as being phenomenal people.

Now, do you care about this little story.... probably not but, It's my blog for a reason.
Odds are however, you have also felt at some point like a big dirt fool.
I am truly sorry for that. If I were there with you, Id have given you a hug while simultaneously punching the offender in the face. Use that moment as a catalyst to tell someone you spend time with that they are in fact a stone cold fox.
Take that tiny moment to point out how they work a pair of basic Converse like a demi-god or how you appreciate the way they put on deodorant in the morning because deep down it's way of saying, "Hey, I like it when your close to me".
Maybe your lady has bichin titties that fit perfectly in the cup of your hand like they were made in the factory for your sorry ass?

On a whole I am an advocate of putting the "self" in your "self esteem" but,
who wouldn't want to hear that kind of shit every once and awhile?
You surly do and most of you really deserve it.