My apologies.

·         The day after tomorrow, I am flying to Virginia to see some of my best friends.  I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long, long time.  I’m actually so excited about it that I can’t coherently string my thoughts together.  Therefore, today’s post will not only be in bullet form, but it probably won’t make too much sense, either.  For this, I apologize.

·         This morning on my way to work, I turned left at a red light.  A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and Bluetooth honked at me and flicked me off.  I guess I kind of deserved it.  It really seems as if my driving skills are deteriorating as I get older.  If I’m already struggling this badly now and I’m still a few years shy of thirty, I don’t like to think about how bad it will be when I reach old age.

·         My attempt to stop chewing my fingernails has actually been quite successful.  My nails are longer than they have ever been, and I have developed the incredibly annoying habit of drumming them on whatever hard surface is available. Also, I have made myself bleed more than once because I forget that they are there.  Yeah.  I’m learning.

·         I am freezing.  I decided that it was a wise idea to wear a pair of my Toms with no socks today.  In retrospect, it wasn’t that great of a decision.  It’s rainy and nasty, my feet are cold, and I just got over a double ear infection.  Who wants to come to my house every morning and help me pick out weather appropriate clothing?

·         Oh! I also need someone to come to my house tonight and help me pack for Virginia.  And do laundry for me so that I actually will have clean clothing to pack.

·         I went and got my hair did yesterday.    I once again have pink and purple tips.  Thanks, Becca!

  

·         Yesterday, I finally got a copy of my final divorce decree.  It was a super odd feeling, to say the least.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t sad.  I think I am finished being sad about the whole situation. It is a part of my life that I can’t take back.   And even now, knowing everything I know and being hurt the way I was hurt, I don’t really think I would want to take it back.  I’m stronger.  I’m definitely wiser.  I know that from here on out, I will trust my gut.  I know that if all signs point toward something, no matter how badly I don’t want to believe it, the signs probably aren’t lying.  From the very beginning of this whole mess, I have known that there was no way that I could walk away from this situation unchanged.  But I have also known that I have a choice in how, exactly, I let it change me.  I can let it ruin me, or I can grow from the experience and let it make me even more awesome.  I choose the latter.   Duh.

·         Did I mention that I can’t wait to be in Virginia on Thursday?  Seriously.  I’m not sure that I will be able to sleep until I am there.  These girls are my heart, and I never feel more like me than when I am with them. 

Yo.

I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that Christmas is less than a month away.  I get kind of flustered thinking about it.  I’m that girl who waits until Christmas Eve eve to do most of my shopping.  

Actually, I take that back.

I’m that girl who waits until Christmas Eve eve to do most of my shopping for other people.  But I totally take advantage of holiday sales and buy pretty, pretty things for myself.

This year on Black Friday, I stood in line at Martin’s for a pretty good while to get my hands on a brown North Face jacket I have been lusting after for a few months.  There were only about 30 or so people in front of me in line, so I was pretty confident that my patience would totally pay off.  About ten minutes before it was time for the doors to open, I noticed a group of high school aged boys inching their way closer and closer to the front of the line.  They were standing directly beside the line, blending in pretty well.  Every few minutes they would take a few steps forward, being incredibly quiet.  Most people in line were laughing and cutting up (it was freezing out there, so we had to stay jolly somehow…), so it was easy for these kids to go unnoticed.  

Yeah.

They went unnoticed until I not-so-quietly announced their presence to everyone.

By this time, the line was longer than the length of the whole building.  The doors were opening any second, and despite the unkind words and nasty looks being thrown their way, those boys were not going to budge.  They started whispering amongst themselves, and I knew exactly what their game plan was.  As soon as the doors opened and the line started flowing, they were just going to squeeze in.  People would be too determined to get in the store to sacrifice the precious seconds it would take to prevent the delinquent kids from committing the cardinal sin of Black Friday:  cutting in line.

I knew I couldn’t let this happen.

Everything went slow motion.

The Martin’s employees were walking to the doors with their keys out.  

The entire crowd outside was tense with the anticipation of what was on the other side of that glass.

The stupid boys were grinning and positioning themselves for the ultimate line break.

At the very last moment, I yelled, “Link up and keep them out!”

As the doors were swinging open, about a hundred strangers linked arms, held hands, or simply squeezed in as tight as possible to become one unit.  We all had two common goals:

1)      Get to the North Face jackets as quickly as possible.

2)      Exercise whatever means necessary to keep those pubescent boys from getting in that building before we did.

And you know what?  We succeeded. 

Thanks to my fabulous new jacket, I am incredibly warm and toasty as I am sitting here typing.

But it doesn’t even compare to the warmth I felt in my soul at the looks of anger and frustration on the faces of those boys as they realized that their plan had failed miserably.

(Go ahead and judge.  I’m a horrid person sometimes.)

Real Talk.

I had a long, funny blog ready to post.  And then, on a whim, I decided to revisit this website:

www.prayfornoah.com

I immediately erased everything I had typed.  This is what I ask of you: Click the link, read Noah's story, and use amount of time that it would take you to read one of my normal blogs to pray for Noah Crowe and his parents.

Please.

I don’t have kids. But I do know love. 

I think about how much I love certain people in my life, and I can’t imagine what it would feel like to love someone even more than I love those who are such a huge part of my  heart.

I can’t wrap my mind around the fear and despair this family must be feeling.  Yet, they still cry out to God and proclaim His goodness. 

That, my friends, is not something I’m sure that I would be able to do in their circumstance. I like to think that I would be able to, but I’m not sure I could.

So today,  please just pray.

I'm back.

So… that possible exciting news that I didn’t want to talk about for fear of jinxing it?  Pretty sure that it isn’t going to happen, so we’re just going to forget that I ever mentioned anything about it.  Ha. 

I apologize for my absence last week.  I had a ton going on, and I just really couldn’t find the time to crank out a blog every day.  But I’m back now, so all can once again be right with the world.

I have decided to attempt to stop biting my nails. 

I have chewed my nails since I was a baby, and it’s gross and I don’t want to do it anymore. Every time I go home to see my parents, Daddy thumps me in the jaw and tells me to get my fingers out of my mouth at least five times.  I’m almost 28.  That’s kind of embarrassing.

Plus, quitting is on my Bucket List.

This would be way, way easier had I not recently quit smoking. (Sorry to those of you who are shocked by the fact that I smoked.)  I started when I was 18, and have been an on-again/off-again smoker for the better part of 10 years.  These past few years, I have smoked pretty heavily.  And like chewing my nails, I decided that it was gross and I didn’t want to do it anymore.

It has been a month since my last cigarette, and I really think that this time, I am finished for good.  If I can quit now, with all the mess and stress I have going on, I have no excuse to ever pick up a cigarette again.

I honestly think it will be harder to quit chewing my nails than it was to quit smoking.  

In order to smoke, I have to have cigarettes.  It is easy to not have cigarettes. 

But to bite my nails?  I simply need my hands.  And I’m kind of stuck having them in close proximity to me.  When I catch myself really wanting a cigarette, I usually chew my nails as a distraction.  That makes this way more complicated.

I have tried all the common remedies for nail biting. 

I have dipped my fingers in hot sauce at the beginning of the day. That definitely keeps my fingers out of my mouth.  By 9:30 a.m. I am holding my face underneath a sink attempting to flush the said hot sauce out of my eye. 

I have tried fingernail polish.  All that leads to is really ugly, chipped paint on my nails and unfortunate nail-polish flecks all in my teeth. 

Anyone have any helpful ideas?  I am determined to make this happen.  And I haven’t bitten them at all in two days, but I’m not sure that sheer will power is going to lead to a victory in this particular situation. 

They’re mocking me.

Me + Technology = Fail.

Today the weather is bad

I’m not going to lie

It makes me kind of sad.

Real talk:  I never should have been allowed to purchase a smart phone.  Ever.  I’m SO bad at technology that it is ridiculous, and every time I try to do something different and “smart” with my Thunderbolt, I end up on the verge of a panic attack. 

One time, I tried to change my ringtone and I ended up erasing every single event I had saved in my calendar. 

Another time, I tried to answer while driving and changed the default display language to Spanish.  That one took a good while to sort out.

Thank God for people who understand and enjoy technology. 

Today is my friend Chris’s birthday.  Chris is an IT guy with an MBA, and he is undoubtedly one of the smartest people that I have ever met.  He got to spend a large portion of his birthday on Google Chat with me, walking me through some (seemingly) very basic instructions to make certain things on my phone do what they’re supposed to do. 

Thanks, Chris.  I love you, I’m so thankful for you and Erin, and I am glad that you have the patience to deal with my technological inadequacies. 

And, just so everyone is aware, I managed to cross the street today (more than once!) without any mishaps!  I kind of had to give myself a little bit of a pep talk before I crossed the first time, but when I looked down and saw my trusty cowboy boots on my feet, I knew that I would be just fine. 

I’m telling you… it’s the heels.  I just can’t.

Hopefully, by next week things will have calmed down enough (there are some crazy things happening in my life right now… I’m scared to talk about them for fear of jinxing everything) for me to get back to my regular blogging habits.  

I will return on Monday.

I hope you all have a fabulous rest of the week, and hopefully when I post again it will be to share some exciting news!

(I’m not pregnant. No worries.)

My apologies.

I have been MIA for almost a week. 

Some of you care… some of you weren’t even aware. 

Although I’m tempted to write this post in rhyme, I feel like doing so would be a crime.

Okay.  Enough of that.

True story though… this past week has been crazy hectic.

I started feeling pretty rough on Wednesday, and by the time Thursday came around, I couldn’t even make it through the day at work.  When I woke up Friday morning, I knew that I had to actually go to the doctor.  Usually, I’m that girl who will take a ton of vitamin C and Tylenol Cold & Flu and just cross my fingers that whatever is attacking my body will give up and leave me alone.

Yeah.  Not this time.  I felt like I had a golf ball made of out nails lodged under my left ear.

 It’s never a good thing when the doctor looks in your throat and says, “Oh my gosh!” 

Evidently, I had one of the most severe double ear infections she had ever seen.

Three shots, three prescriptions, and several days later, I’m finally starting to feel like a human again. 

Kind of.

That being said, I apologize for my absence. 

Also, I would like to apologize to the nice old man who had to slam on his brakes at the intersection of Tennessee and Seminary Street today.  I know that the WALK and DON’T WALK signs are there for a reason, but generally I just look both ways, make sure I’m not in imminent danger, and then go on my merry way. 

I blame what happened today on the fact that I never learned how to properly walk in heels.  

I looked both ways before I crossed, and yeah, there was a car headed my way, but I had plenty of time to make it.

Actually, let me rephrase my prior statement: I would have had plenty of time to make it across the street had I not fallen, in the most ungraceful manner possible, into the middle of a busy intersection.

I stepped funny (blasted heels!), stumbled, and in the process of trying to regain my balance, I managed to completely and utterly bust my tail. 

Yeah.  Remember that car that was a seemingly safe distance away when I made the decision to go ahead and cross the street despite the DON’T WALK sign?  Turns out, it was way, way closer than I thought. 

I’m okay, evidently.  Thank goodness that old fella driving was paying attention, or I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this blog right now.

Lessons learned today:  

1) I am just not cut out for wearing heels.

2) Street signs/lights are there for a good reason.

3) I’m 27, and should not be allowed to cross the street without a responsible adult holding my hand.

I'm thankful.

So many of my friends are taking part in the 30 Day Thankful Challenge on Facebook. 

Let’s be real here.  I forget to tie my shoes some days, so thinking that I can remember to list one thing for which I am thankful each day of November?  Yeah.  That won’t happen.   Plus, I’m already 8 days behind.

So, here you go.  In no particular order, here are 30 things in my life for which I am incredibly thankful.

1)      Parents who raised me to be a strong and independent woman, regardless of my circumstance.  Not being okay was never an option, and the inner strength they insisted on instilling in me from the time I was a kid is one of the main reasons that I am still standing right now.

2)      A God who still loves me enough to pour out of all kinds of crazy blessings on me, even though there is nothing good in me except for Him.  His grace is why I am free, and I refuse to ever take that for granted.

3)      My dogs.  They rule my world, and I’m totally okay with that.

4)      Camp Concord.  Never did I imagine that some of the most important and soul-changing friendships of my life would be born out of the one crazy summer I spent there.

5)      My job.  No, I never pictured myself working in the legal field, but it provides a steady check, and it saved both my sanity and my bank account during the divorce. 

6)      Technology.  I truly can’t imagine my life without my cell phone, laptop, and DSLR.

7)      Friends.  I know that every person believes that their friends are the best, but everyone besides me is wrong in that assumption.  I get seriously overwhelmed when I try to wrap my mind around the amount of love and support that my friends have shown me over the past few months. 

8)      Alabama. Yup. I love the fact that I was born and raised in the South.  I love this culture and I love these people.  I love that a complete stranger will hold a door open for me, and I love that guys will stand to give me their seat if there is nowhere else for me to sit.

9)      J. Grady Photography.  It started out as kind of a joke, and it has blossomed into something that provides a pretty reliable second income.  And, I love it.

10)   Jacksonville, Florida.  In my mind, that place represents a future full of nothing but possibilities.  I get a fresh start, and I will have opportunities there that just aren’t available in my current area.  I get to start over in a brand new city with nothing but my two best friends and whatever clothing I can fit into my car. It will be the ultimate adventure.

11)   My brothers.  I don’t see them often, but so much of who I am today is because of the impact they had on me when we were kids.  I’m so proud of them, and want to live in a way that makes them proud to have a sister like me.

12)   Books.  I’m a nerd.  I can, at any time, pick up a book and completely escape the reality of my own life. Sometimes that’s really, really nice.

13)   Nashville, Tennessee.  

14)   FloBama.  I eat there at least three times a week, and I swear that they have the best smoked chicken in the history of the world. 

15)   My awkwardness.  I can’t imagine going through everyday life without strange, hilarious things happening to me.  I would much rather be awkward and interesting than socially graceful and boring.

16)   I have good teeth.  They are almost perfectly straight, and I never had to have braces.  Also, I am 27 years old and have never, ever had a cavity. 

17)   My health.  I was a super sick baby.  More than once, doctors told my parents that they weren’t sure that I was going to make it, and if I did, I would have health issues for the rest of my life.  Aside from two colds a year and the occasional stomach bug, I’m perfectly fine.

18)   My ex-husband’s family.  Though things are completely different now and it isn’t feasible for them to still be a part of my life, for almost seven years they loved me without condition and accepted me as if I was truly one of their own.  As much as I miss them, I will always, always be grateful for the time and love they invested in me.

19)   White-Out corrective tape.  I go through a roll of that magic stuff every few weeks.

20)   Ferdinand the Focus.  My little blue car has been through hell and back, but at well over 130,000 miles, he is still just a chuggin’ along.   Aside from my Daddy, he is the one guy I trust to never let me down.  He may struggle every once in a while, but he never fails at getting me from point A to point B.

21)   My confidence.  I have always been comfortable in my own skin.  I like who I am and I won’t change that in order to suit the idea of what someone else feels that I should be.

22)   This blog.  It is so much more therapeutic than I ever thought it would be.  It kind of blows my mind that so many people are entertained by and can relate to my life.  Maybe I really will write a book one day.

23)   Heather Morris.  Yup.  I’m including her on this list.  She is marvelous and beautiful and the only girl in the world with whom I would run away and live happily ever after.  I have a celebrity crush on her that is rivaled only by my Drew Barrymore obsession from my middle school years.

24)   My scars.  The physical ones.  I have more scars on my face, arms, hands, and legs than most girls.  But each scar tells a story, and those stories paint a pretty clear picture of who I am.

25)   My scars.  The emotional ones.  One of my best friends tells me constantly that the things that I survive, they only make me stronger.  And she is completely right.  She’s right about most things, actually. (Thanks, Alyssa. Ha.)  So as badly as I have been hurt, I’m not totally sure I would go back and change the way everything went down, simply because I am genuinely content with who I am right now and completely confident that I am headed in precisely the right direction.

Yeah… not going to make it all the way to 30.  Not that there aren’t 30 things in my life for which I am thankful, but I’m tired of staring at a computer screen. 

Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can’t you see?

Sometimes your words just hypnotize me.

Someone will write a rap song about me one day.  They will. 

The importance of a good hairdresser.

The same girl has done my hair for over five years.  She does an awesome job, and when I move to Florida, she is coming with me.  End of story.

She has fixed many, many of my attempts at coloring and cutting my own hair. I honestly can’t recall how many times I have sent her late night text messages that simply say, “I need you.”  I’m confident in stating that aside from me completely shaving my head, there isn’t much I can do to my hair that Becca can’t make better. 

This weekend, Joey and I decided that we were going to dye our hair.  I knew that I was getting mine cut ,and  getting pink and purple tips put back in today, so I decided to just knock out the all-over color on my own.  I chose a simple, medium brown color.  I have had enough hair-dying mishaps to know what colors and tones to avoid.  Thanks to a wonderful job by Katie, my hair turned out exactly how I wanted.  It looks natural and it is actually pretty close to what I imagine my real hair color would be.  (I’m not sure I have seen my actual hair color since I was about 17 years old.)

I’m not going to go into loads of detail about the end result of Joey’s hair, but let’s just say that it did not turn out as expected.

Now, Becca has not only saved my butt, but she saved Joey’s as well.  Joey’s hair is no longer a brilliant shade of maroon, but a dark, lovely brown. 

This afternoon, Becca will see me and my perfectly colored hair and be so proud of me for not jacking it up like I usually do.  She will think that for once, she will have an easy job in front of her and that she won’t be spending the majority of her time doing corrective work.

Then, she will see the candle wax.

This is what happened: I went to unplug my laptop charger from the wall yesterday.  No biggie, right?  But for some reason, I had my hair down.  I NEVER wear my hair down.  It’s always up in a messy bun type thing up high on the back of my head.

Joey has one of those candle warmer contraptions, and she keeps it on the end table.  You know?  The things that melt all the wax in the candle so it still smells fabulous, but there isn’t the danger of having me around an open flame?  

When I bent down to unplug the laptop, a large portion of my hair evidently decided to attempt to make a home in said melted candle.  I was completely oblivious to the impending disaster until I raised up from unplugging the charger and felt a wet, searing pain all down my left forearm. 

Yup. 

Not only had I dipped my hair in melted candle wax, but a steady stream of the wax had dripped from my hair directly onto my bare skin.

Getting the wax off of my skin?  It didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t too hard to do. 

Getting the wax out of my hair?  Yeah.  That one didn’t happen.

Poor Becca. 

One day, she will just get to cut my hair without having to figure out how to fix what I have broken.

Today is a good day.

I know it is kind of early to proclaim the day as a success.  I know that I’m probably jinxing myself, and as soon as I publish this post, the ceiling will fall in and in my attempt to run away from danger, I will slip on a banana peel and break a bone or four.  

But as of right now, at 11:18 a.m. Central Standard Time, today is a good day.

I’m wearing a very light-colored shirt.  And I just ate a breakfast burrito from McDonald’s that was completely smothered in hot sauce.  Usually, this ends in disaster.  I either have to go home and change shirts, or I walk around the rest of the day smelling like a mixture of picante and egg. 

Not today, my friends.  Not today.

My shirt is spotless. 

This goes down in the books as a win.  A big, big win.

I’m taking Joey’s engagement pictures this afternoon.  I’m equally excited and nervous about this. 

I’m excited, simply because Joey is one of my best friends (and my roommate).  I’m confident in my abilities, and I have no doubt that the pictures will turn out well.

But I’m nervous because I’m not totally sure our friendship will survive the shoot.

When I take pictures, I’m kind of bossy.  I have to be.  I know what looks good and what doesn’t look good, and I see things from a completely different perspective than the people who are being photographed. 

Most of the time, I just ask my clients to trust me.  Trust in the fact that I know what I’m doing and that they won’t be disappointed.

Joey, however, has had to help me get earrings untangled from my hair.  She has had to teach me that cats use litter boxes and don’t have to go outside with the dogs to use the bathroom.  She has looked at me and said, “You’re not really wearing that, are you?”

Now, I’m expecting her to have enough faith in me to take pictures that capture who she is and the love that she and Robbie have for one another. 

I can’t wait to see how this afternoon goes.  Ha.

Even if she ends up not liking me after the shoot, the pictures will be awesome. Plus, she is stuck living with me until April.  I will have plenty of time to win back her good graces. 

But really, I have no need to worry.

Because after all, today is a good day.  

I need sleep.

I’m one of those people who absolutely HAS to have sleep in order to properly function.  It’s actually quite pitiful.

These past few nights, however, I have been getting less than four hours of sleep per night.  I’m used to at least 8.  My body is starting to revolt.

I’m twitchy.  I’m irritable.  And I feel like the insides of my eyelids are coated with sandpaper. 

The phone rang at work today, and as I answered it I was looking at something on my Facebook page.  I generally answer the phone here by saying, “Smith Law, this is Jessica.  Can I help you?”  Today I answered as follows: “Thank you for calling Facebook.  This is Jessica.  Can you help me?”

The poor lady on the other end of the call stammered for a few seconds and then said, “Um, maybe? “

Only then did I realize that I said something strange.  It sounded perfectly normal in my head. 

It’s completely my own fault that I haven’t been going to sleep at a normal hour. 

But I’m still angry about it.

A lady I work with brought me an orange back from her lunch break.  She said she could tell I was getting sick and that I needed to get my vitamin C.  Yeah.  I look that rough.  I was too tired to tell her that I actually feel fine, just suffering from an extreme sleep deprivation.

I sliced the orange up, excited for a mid-afternoon snack. (The pint of Blue Bell Southern Blackberry Cobbler that I had for lunch didn’t really fill me up today… sad.)  The very first bite I took resulted in a steady stream of citrus juice directly to my eyeball. 

Seriously.

How does that even happen?

I’m not sure I have ever lusted after anything like I’m lusting after my warm bed right now. 

Today, I feel like an adult.

I will be 28 in March.  That means that in a few mere months, I will be two years away from turning 30.  30 is only ten years away from being 40. 

When did this happen?  And how can I fix it and make it stop?

In my head, I still think I am 23.  Unfortunately, my body does not agree with me.  I neither look nor physically feel 23 anymore, but mentally…  I’m still there.

I don’t eat well balanced meals.

I sit Indian style, regardless of whether I am in a social or professional setting.

I’m kind of obsessed with “that’s what she said” jokes.

If I tell you I’m dressing up, I just mean that I am wearing a nice hoodie… not one of my old faded ones.

Maybe I’m not 23 emotionally.  Maybe I’m closer to 13?

Regardless of my refusal to become a real grown-up, today I managed to tackle what I consider to be a fairly adult task, and I didn’t even have to call my Daddy for assistance.  Not even once.

My car now has a tag, and my new title should arrive in the mail within six weeks.  Yup.  I braved the tag commissioner’s office all by myself.  

I’m not going to lie.  It was a little scary and overwhelming at first, but I dug in my heels and refused to be defeated.  And by golly, I handed all the necessary documents to the lady on the other side of that glass and signed in all the designated places like a champ!

I know.

This doesn’t seem like anything monumental to most people.

But this is me we’re talking about here.

A victory, regardless of how small, is still a victory.