Love....

There is a man I love. We started dating towards the end of summer when the nights were still balmy and breezy. I was peeling from a really bad sunburn when he took me on our first date. Pizza and a movie. We sat in that restaurant talking about books for about an hour while we pigged out on pizza and bread sticks.  The movie was the 3rd Transformers movie. Romantic, I know. But I picked it. I'm not the type of girl that has to watch sappy chick flicks all the time. He hugged me goodbye when he dropped me off at home. Very respectable. I miss balmy summer nights like that. We have been dating for almost 7 months now and we are not doing to well. I think we need another wistful summer night just like that again. No cares in the world. Just a date. Maybe we should meet in a coffee shop and talk for hours until the owners ask us to go home so that they can go home. I hope it can be as easy as it seems to be in my head. Right now I am a terrible mess. Eating chocolate and cuddly with my puppy. I just need to figure this thing out.

Eating noodles in the dark

Sorry I haven't written in a couple of days. Like you care though. Anyway, I've been busy. I picked up a few extra shifts at work, running the cash register. Which is harder work than I thought. So when I got home from work the past two days, I've basically collapsed on the couch, and only gotten up long enough to make dinner for myself and then put myself to bed. Then today I was too busy working on some photos. But in the way of an update on the quilting front, I have purchased a sewing machine. I just haven't opened the box yet. It is a Singer Heavy Duty. I got a sweet deal on it from JoAnn's Fabric Store. I just couldn't find what I wanted from Walmart and was too impatient to wait for them to get in what I needed. In other news, I was considering going into beauty school. Well scratch that, I really can't afford it right now and will probably just do it later when I work my way into a full time position at my current store. Which could take a couple of years. But I am more than willing to wait and do that.

I feel deserted....

My baby sister, who is basically my best friend, is joining the Air Force. American will have yet another great individual in their midst. I'm sad because she will be miles away. I won't be able to drop by her apartment for a visit, or have a shopping buddy, or be able to just randomly call her because I need her advice. It's bad enough that my brother is in the army. Josh spent 5 years, (the first 5 of his married life), in Germany. and 3 in Kuwait, Afghanistan, and other places. I've missed my brother and still miss him something terrible. He has luckily been in Alabama for the past 3 years and I've only seen him twice in those three years. I hate the idea of Ariel going into the Air Force because I'm afraid that I'll see her less than I see Joshy. I'm not close with my oldest brother and if I had my way, I'd hardly see him at all. That's how much I prefer Ariel and Josh. I love those two to pieces. I gotta go and get a tissue.....

Cosmetology School? Me?

So I had a girls day out with my mommy. We went and got our hair done. I had cut her hair about last week. When we went to the salon, the hairdresser noticed it had been recently cut. Mom said I did it. The girl was surprised and said it was all even and she was impressed with my layering skills and wanted to know what salon I worked at. This made me laugh so hard. I told her that I actually work in the Walmart Photo Lab and that I have never professionally cut hair in my life. I told her that I have just cut my friends' hair in the past. I've never taken any classes or anything. I just help them cut and color it because it is cheaper than going to a salon. She was impressed and told me that I have a knack for it.
I was floored. So for the rest of the day my parents ganged up on me and suggested that I look into cosmetology school. So I did and I sent out a couple of emails, and until I find out how much it costs and what my options are, I'm gonna keep this on the back burner. I am a photographer and a quilter. That's what I have become. I can barely do my own hair and didn't know how to really do my own hair till I got out of high school. I can barely do it now. I don't even know how the french braid. (Well I do. I'm just not very good at it.)


Comments are appreciated. I want to know what everyone thinks of this whole idea.

So I got more work done on my niece's quilt. I've been working on the block that represents my mother, her grandmother. It's kind of an intricate design with paisley fabrics and that is why it is taking so long. Needless to say, I am going to buy a new sewing machine on Saturday, and so by Saturday night, I will have all the blocks sewn together. Tomorrow in the middle of cleaning house and giving dogs a bath, I am going to finish the two remaining quilt blocks, so that by Saturday, I am ready to get the top sheet done. Then I will by batting and the material for the bottom sheet, so I can quilt it and then put my patch on it. I just can't wait for it to be done so I can start on a new project. In the mean time, (and I don't know if I have mentioned this), I am starting to look for places to move to. I am currently under the same roof with my parents, (loving and hating it), and my credit card bill is almost paid off, so it is almost time to get back to the real world and start living my life. I really can't wait, and then again, I love being where I am at. But I will be 24 next month, so maybe I should start acting my age.

sleepy...bored....going to bed now.

Finally personalized my blog just the way I want it. Sort of. Anyway, just thought I would post an updated picture of myself.

My watch doesn't have enough hours on it...sheesh...

Things I need to get done tomorrow;
~Laundry. I've run out of clean socks and work clothes. Not that I have a dirty job or anything. But it is in the customer service field and I'm pretty sure it's a requirement not to stink. 
~Amelia's quilt. I'm down to 2 blocks. I can get them down tomorrow. The sooner I get those done, the sooner I can force mom to go sewing machine shopping with me. She wants me to finish this quilt right? Well then, she needs to go shopping with me for a working sewing machine.


I'm pretty sure that's it. 

Just not this one. It's my grandmother's and it doesn't work.

Happy Valentine's Day!

~I remember the house we lived in, in Texas. It had a HUGE living room and sliding glass doors in the kitchen that went out to the backyard.
~I remember 2 Basset Hounds we had in Texas. Romeo and Mallory. They were very protective.
~I remember Josh cutting off my pigtails. He didn’t like me much back then.
~I remember a wiener dog that belonged to the house on the corner in Morrisville, Missouri. I was in kindergarten. If Josh and James (my brothers) didn’t walk with me home from school, that dog would chase me down the block.
~I remember dad walking me to school on my first day of kindergarten. I was eating a piece of toast and my tummy didn’t feel good. I was nervous and I didn’t want my daddy to leave me there.
~I remember Patrick stealing my green crayon. I stole it back and stabbed him in the hand with it. We have been friends ever since. ~I remember helping mom burn trash in a big steal trash can in the backyard. Then playing in it and getting melted plastic stuck on my arm. That taught me not to play in the burn barrel.
~I remember a big tornado when I was in 1st grade. Dad wasn’t home and we took shelter in the concrete shed.
~I remember a big snow. It was just about as tall as Ariel and I. (Ariel is my sister.) She was in kindergarten and I was in 2nd grade. (if that gives you any idea of how tall we were at the time.)
~I remember walking across the field to Grandma McGinnis’. Dad and I would meet her in the field, where she was in her S10 pick-up and checking on the cows. I would beg her to let me spend time with her. So she would take me home with her. We would then build a fire in the fireplace, she would make malt-o-meal and we would sit down and watch E.T. That’s the only movie to my knowledge that she would watch.
~I remember moving out to the 10 acres. It was exciting living out in the middle of the woods. That was when we started riding the bus to school.
~I remember when our cat Toast was born. He almost died. His mama died soon after he was born and so we had to bottle feed him.

Got my taxes done today! Hooray for me! It took me forever though, I had to get my printer to work. It hates me. It works fine with any Toshiba lap top. Which doesn't make sense, it's an HP printer and doesn't seem to want to work with my HP laptop. Lame. So I had to kick it, then it worked! Crazy right?! Anyway, I didn't get any work done on Amelia's quilt. Oh well, something for me to do when I get off work. I don't wanna go to work today. I'm feeling pretty lazy. But I need the money.

I hate that taste in my mouth when i first wake up in the morning. that's why once i wake up, i bolt out of bed and head to the bathroom. toothbrush, toothpaste, rinse, floss, mouthwash. awww....that's better. this is the morning of my big interview. i wanna get this job so i can keep my house. seems like i am always struggling. from temping to waitressing, i've done it all. as i head to the kitchen, i make a mental note to clean house when i get the time. i noticed dust on all the picture frames lining the hallway. once in the kitchen i grab a bagel and a glass of orange juice. then i hop into the shower and get dressed. dress pants and a button up shirt should do. flats, because heels would make it look like i'm trying too hard. man, i really want this job. luckly i have time to make my bed before i head out. gotta remember to lock up the house. as i hop into my jeep i notice that the flower beds out front need to be weeded. that'll have to wait till i get home. i fireup the old jeep wrangler and turn out on to the highway. letting the wind dry my straight hair. i'll pin in back when i get there. but as soon as i'm turning onto 53 highway i get slammed in my rear. i throw my car into park and get out. before, all the dust clears i feel a hand on my arm. 'are you okay?' the voice asks. 'i really didn't see you there! this car has a bad blind spot and i wasn't really paying attention.' i look at my jeep, the bumper is laying on the ground and everything is crunched foward. 'well i think i can start it. it's ok, i wasn't going anywhere important.' i say. then i crawl back into my jeep and try to start the ignigtion. it's doesn't do anything. not even roll over. 'great,' i mutter. 'i am so sorry. here is my information, and my insurance information. let me see what i can do now, want me to call you a tow?' the now reconizable guy asks. he had dark brown hair, a straight nose, green eyes and a light stubble on his cheeks and chin. he was honestly concerned. he had on a button down shirt tucked into some wranglers and a pair of justin boots. i looked back at his car with it's smashed bumper, it was a jeep cherokee. 'well at least you have a good taste in vehicles,' i commented. 'yeah, it's the ex wife's car. i won it in the divorce.' he said. 'don't know why i had to mention that. but i did.' i didn't know why he mentioned it either. it was awkward.

I'm Yours Tonight

Outside of a mexican restaurant on the border with Mexico just beyond the highway, kissing the horizon. Migraine headaches and guacamole don’t mix. Whiskey and secondhand smoke choke sunrise conversation. Strained souls from six straight bask in self recovery on such days.

Flying used to do considerably different things to my perception. The cutting contrast sharp, yet not alarming. For instance, in the past, flying domestically on the same day as a show was met with spoiled-brat belly aching, pervading prima donna parallels. I’d huff and I’d puff and I’d blow my manager’s email inbox down. As sand-blasting, throat-parching, and voice-crackling airplane cabin air can be, I find myself complaining less these days. Whether it be a product of maturity, exhaustion, apathy, or a cocktail of all three, I can proudly say that I no longer bitch and moan about day-of-show travel. Nope. These days I’ll use that time to write, reflect, or fall asleep mid-chapter in another futile attempt at reading while in motion. Fuck Ambien. Give me Atlas Shrugged and I’m out like a fat kid in T-Ball before the first “Who is John Galt?” inquiry.

The same usually goes for me with driving. Day or night, rain or shine, behind the wheel I’m liable to go narcoleptic at the blink of a turn signal. As terribly catastrophic as that is, if you’ve ever dozed off while driving, despite every desperate effort to stay awake: (leg pinching, face slapping, windows down in winter, ear piercing stereo levels, hair pulling, talking to yourself, talking to your cell phone, etcetera etcetera). Despite every aforementioned desperate effort, if you for only a split second succumb to the weight of your eye lids and let them drop to your cheeks, then and only then will you know the most satisfying and unrivaled kind of sleep known to man. Perhaps comparable in the animal kingdom to say, hibernation, [or in the real (mortal) world, DEATH.] This split second of sedated sanctuary is the closest to peace you’re likely to get.

Help, I'm Alive, My Heart Keeps Beating Like A Hammer

Squinting through the windshield into an unusually dark afternoon, headlights reflecting off of white rain and sleet, I slowly ease on my brakes. A ways ahead, a wave of brake lights exclaim red. Their
exclamations are brightly lit, aligned ahead of one another, stretching up and over the top of a small hill. I let out a sigh of frustration and fear as the car slows to a stop. Between the sleet, my shoddy
windshield wipers, and my wounded red eyes, I can barely see the car in front of me. Confusion. I can’t stop thinking about all of the details of the night, and I try desperately to think about something, anything less painful Nothing. Everything else I try to think about comes back to Tonight. It’s like that board game Chutes and Ladders, where every memory I used to be able to find soothing is a space on the board, and there are two chutes spiraling down. One back to the Start, before any of this mess started. That’s the place I wish I could escape to. But my mind keeps rolling unlucky, down the other chute, whipping past all the other spaces on the board. Memories of childhood, first kisses with new
boyfriends, humiliation, denial, triumph, loss. As hard as I try, there is no use. My brain has already rerouted everything back to Tonight. Just get away. Drive far away.Reality snaps back into place, and I haven’t driven but ten miles from Tonight. Damned traffic. My attention now turns back to the exclamations ahead, and I’ve made my way up to the top of the hill. Just below, down the road are white and red flashing lights. Four police cars, two ambulances, and two small cars twisted and tangled
together. It didn’t look like the kind of accident people were walking away from. The accident only brings my mind back to Tonight. My mind keeps rolling unlucky. Escape now. Skip town. Get out. There is
nothing left now. Not anymore. As I slowly roll passed the accident, I don’t stare out of my window
into the wreckage like the people in the cars in front of me. I always found that sort of thing cruel and in some ways, sadistic. Disrespectful. Looking for an arm, a leg maybe, spilling out of a shattered window…I’ve always been afraid to see a body that wounded, not eager to. As I pass, I feel an overwhelming swarm of pressure and isolated pain in my temples. It’s happening. I feel myself folding from the outside in. I’ve fallen down the long descending chute that leads back to Tonight. Down a twisting spiral and around a long turn, then down again. There is a straight-away ahead now, and the end of the narrow chute is quickly approaching. Stop. Turn back. It is not too late. But I’ve spilt out of the chute onto my kitchen floor. The bright halogen lights from my new ceiling fixtures are sharp on my eyes, but in my mind, in this world, I seem to feel no pain. The fall from the chute left me virtually spotless. Everything is familiar. My kitchen, my chairs, my countertops, my new light fixtures. The kitchen table. The opened white envelope with my name on it. The letter he wrote folded in half. The white gold birthday watch sitting there between the letter and the opened white envelope. And the answering machine on the countertop. Blinking red with a message I’d rather not hear. Not again. I start spinning… The room begins to look unfamiliar. Focus. The red light. The blinking red light. Just then I blink my eyes and I’m back in my car.The traffic is gone.The police cars are gone. The ambulances are gone. I don’t know how much time has passed. Maybe hours. I must have had an ‘episode’ again. The doctors have some medical term for it, but they’ve been referring to it as “the folding”. When it happens it feels like my body folds up into origami as I recede into my subconscious. It’s like narcolepsy meets lucid dreaming meets the most painful fucking headaches you could imagine.
Ahead there is a soft, blinking red light. It’s not the terrible voice message on my machine. It’s a caution light blinking red above a stop sign a quarter mile up the road. What is happening to me? I reach into my coat pocket to get my pills and I pull out a white envelope with my name on it. Inside is the letter he wrote, folded in half. In the bottom of the envelope, hiding in the corner sits his watch. The watch my grandmother gave to my grandfather. The watch my grandmother left to me when she passed, to give to a boy I love one day. I open the letter and read the words that I already know by heart.

“I’ve left. Don’t try to find me. I’m so sorry but I can’t be there for
you this time. Not after how you’ve changed. Check the answering
machine. I’m so sorry. Your brother is dead. ~Patch”

I’m out of my medication.

Post-It Notes of Doom

Tehe......

Most People Thinks Life Sucks Then You Die

Not me. I beg to differ. I think life sucks, then you get cancer, then your dog dies, your wife leaves you, the cancer goes into remission, you get a new dog, you get remarried, you owe millions of dollars in medical bills but you work hard for thirty-five years and you pay it back and then -ONE DAY- you have a massive stroke, your whole right side is lame, you have to limp along the streets and talk out of the left side of your mouth and drool but you go into rehabilitation and regain the power to walk and to talk and then -ONE DAY- you step off the curb at sixth and seventh street and BANG!!!! You get hit by a city bus and then you die. Maybe.

This is the beginning....

My name is Jessica. I might mention that my hair is no longer blonde. It is a color close to black but not quite black. I like any form of art. Some that I am more talented at include crocheting, cross stitch, quilting, photography, painting, drawing, and scrapbooking. I know those are some stranger hobbies for a 24 year old, but I have some even stranger relatives. Not really, I just enjoy any form of art and also need something to do while watching movies. I don't like to sit still. If I can double task, I'm happy because then I don't feel like I am wasting my time. Watching movies is another thing I like to do. My dad and I have this uncanny ability to reconize actors/actresses and name at least 5 other movies they have been in. So I have seen alot of movies. Some of my favorites include anything Tim Burton, (because I cannot choose a favorite by him), all Disney movies (my favorite being Beauty and the Beast), Shaun of the Dead, Little Women, How to Make an American Quilt, Sherlock Holmes (just because I have a crush on Robert Downey), and several others. I love to read. I've read Tolkien (which is a hard read and took me 3 months), I'm reading Jane Austen right now, (I have all 7 of her novels). I love Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allen Poe, C. S. Lewis (I'm obsessed with anything and everything Narnia),  and pretty much any romance novel I can get my hands on.

I'm getting sleepy right now, so I'm gonna end this random posting. Goodnight dear blog!