Happy Birthday Masey

Dear Masey,

Happy Birthday Kiddo.  From the day you were born, I knew what unconditional love felt like.  There are probably going to be quite a few of these birthdays where I don’t get to hold you, hug you or kiss you but I hope that this will serve to show you just how much I care.

I know you’re smart- you have to be smart- you’re a Brandenburg.  And one day, because of your smarts, you and I will get to have that relationship we should have had all along. I get to be Auntie Jay and you get to be my favorite nephew.

You already are my favorite nephew and I don’t even know you.

I promise to wipe away all of my tears (yes mine) and yours... and be there for you no matter what. When you get in trouble, and you will, I’ll be there to help you through it. And when you struggle with calculus, I can’t promise to help because I struggled to, but I can certainly be the ear that you scream into because you are frustrated.  When you are mad at mom and dad because they did, well, anything, I’ll be there to tell you that they’re probably right and they are your parents for a reason.

I’ll do these things, Mason, because you deserve the best life you can possibly have.  You deserve all of the family in the world. You deserve the most promising and hopeful future I can give you.

With tears that hurt more than anything else in the world, I love you Mason Adam Brandenburg. You’re going to grow up to be a rockstar, I just know it. I can’t believe you are a year old already.

Auntie Jay

New Life

There has been a lot going on lately that has made me look at the world a bit differently.  Here is the combination of events that have led to this post:

-Tick tock, this girl wants a baby
-6 neighbor kids, home schooled and learning Italian
-The second Malaysian airliner
-A young girl speaking in sign language
-a young girl asking me why people rob other people

For a long time, read: my entire life, I've always said I didn't want kids.  It went from a selfish, internal need to have my own life to a more prominent wish to never bring a new life into this unpredictable world.  Today is drastically different than when I was a kid.  I used to play on a horse named Penny... Penny was made from rubber, used to be part of a car, and now hung from a rope in a tree in my backyard.  Penny was a tire. And Penny was a BLAST.  For a few years now I've felt that this world is not a place to raise a child.  It is out of control. There are very few "Pennys" to play with and in all reality, it seems as though kids aren't interested in Penny anyways.

Enter my six neighbor friends, from the age of six up to the age of 17.  All six are homeschooled and every single one of them is learning Italian. They are brilliant beyond comprehension.  I admire them.  Their personalities, what their parents have taught them, the respect they have for others... it is all so incredibly astonishing.  And then I'm sad for them. Maybe I'm scared for them? No matter how intelligent you are, and believe me, these kids have that intelligence that only a child can have- that intelligence that, as we grow, we slowly lose and never get back-- no matter how intelligent you are, you cannot control your surroundings. You can't control what you're faced with or what happens to you along the way.  One of these six, a little girl of ten years old, asked me "Jess, why do people rob other people?"

<Dumbfounded>

The simple answer is because "they are bad." Some people are good, like you and me, other people were not raised that way. Maybe they are in a bad place in their lives, maybe they are desperate or maybe they just aren't good. I don't have an answer to that-- but that question, it's possible answer, it scares me.

So back and forth I am; then comes the Malaysian airliner incident. Incident #2 for this airline in one year.  There were children on that plane. There were moms, dads, families, aunts, husbands, wives.  All shot down from the sky... by a missile.   A MISSILE. I never would have stopped and said "it's likely a plane will get shot down by a missile." What good does that serve? What point does it make? Terrorist attack, accident? Semantics. These things shouldn't happen.  This world... I just don't know what to say about this world...

And then something amazing happened. I was walking to work in the beautiful downtown Cleveland (which I am growing to love more and more each day) and saw a young girl using sign language to talk to her deaf brother.  They were both under ten years old.  They laughed, he smiled, she punched him in his arm, he stuck his tongue out at her.  They fought like little siblings should fight.  And yet they had this seemingly HUGE barrier between them.  How amazing is it that such a young person can overcome something so difficult.

This world shows me what it means to be accepting and it shows me what it means to live inside your own bubble. I've seen selflessness and I've seen some of the most evil, pretentious humans.  I've seen emotions of joy and I've seen people not show any emotion during a tragedy.  I've seen my very own brother show me that family has nothing to do with blood and I've seen my relationship with my cousin grow beyond anything I expected. I've learned that children have an unbelievable power to endure and to make great change in this world and I've learned that as we grow into adults, we lose a lot of our tacit knowledge.  In the end, what I've seen these past few months is that you can't fear the future and you can't dwell on the past but you can know that the coming days are inevitable and you must live within these days to make your own life and to make it something worth living.  To a future, my own little family one day, my unhusbandboyfriendloveofmylifemanofmydreams, here's to making this my future.  

Ignorance is NOT Bliss

I started a Twitter war. Why? Because HLNtv decided to start a debate as to whether "pitbulls" should be banned or not.  Anyone who knows me knows I have no tolerance for this.  If you don't know me, learn quickly: a "pitbull" is not a breed. A "pitbull" is no more inherently aggressive than your labrador or cocker spaniel.  A "pitbull" (ALL breeds deemed "pitbulls") have been dealt a hand that will probably never be overcome in my lifetime.  So you ask me: If "pitbulls" aren't aggressive, then why are there so many attacks on the news about "pitbulls"?

Valid question. Let me answer. The majority of the dogs who have been deemed "pitbulls" have more muscle than most other breeds.  In addition, these dogs also have a "locking" jaw.  So, 1. When a piece of shit human decides to raise a fighting dog, "a pitbull" is the way to go because their muscle mass can be built up more so than other dogs. and 2. These dogs are incredibly more dangerous because their jaws have the ability to lock. Add these two things together and you have a very volatile dog with the ability to, yes, kill.

Here's where it gets interesting (or not, depending on your level of intelligence). A dog has no chance in life other than what it's owner/breeder gives it.  If all that dog is offered is abuse, neglect, threats, attacks, fights, etc then that is what the dog's life will consist of.  If a dog (mind you, ANY dog, not just "pitbull" breeds) is raised ethically and morally correct, with food in it's dish, water accompanying it, never is hit or abused, that dog will live it's life in such a way.

Humans. We are a different story. Our parents can raise us any way they'd like but luckily for us (and unluckily in many, many cases) we have the cognitive ability, the emotional capacity to decide who we want to be. Do we want to be a good person, a God-fearing person, a murderer, an animal abuser? We are responsible for who we become, no one else- not your parents, your friends, your family, your enemies.  Because of this responsibility, we also take on that burden to pass it along to the animals in our lives.

To answer the question above: I'm not disputing the fact that these animal attacks are coming mostly from "pitbulls." What I'm disputing is that these dogs have been RAISED to behave this way. They know nothing but this behavior.  Should aggressive dogs be put to sleep? I think it's a case-by-case basis and yes, some should be.  Should they all be deemed "pitbulls"? NO. Should "pitbulls" be banned?

I'll answer with a question: Can all idiots be banned?

I digress. I'm only one person in a world full of lovers, haters, fighters and criers. I can only do so much but I hope that my efforts make a difference somewhere. Maybe not with you, maybe you won't think twice the next time a "pitbull" mauls a child or maybe you will.  Maybe this will make you realize that seeing isn't always believing. There is always more behind everything, behind actions and behaviors, behind thoughts and beliefs.

And let's face it... I have a REALLY, REALLY aggressive "pitbull".  In fact, one time, she sneezed on me.

Live Your Life Authentically, RIP Alissa

This is much overdue and because of this it probably won't be well thought out or comprehendible.

The veil of confusion gently falls away,

Like the dank mist on a dull autumn day.

Revealing the path that lies there before me,

To step forward or not, what will it be?

-Gabriella Goddard

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of being at one of my dearest friends college graduation.  The pride I felt for her and of her was something I didn't even feel at my own graduation.  At the time, for many of us, we get too caught up in the here and now to revel in what we've accomplished... to take in the journey we have finally completed... for many of us, it's just a day and only years later when you have the chance to look back and remember it do we see the significance in our lives. 

It's not just 4 years worth of cramming for tests and finagling an intravenous coffee drip onto our bed posts that does it.  It's not the "extra long sheets" and the late night parties and the walks around campus that matters. It's not JUST any of this. No. It IS this. It's the memories we've created, the intelligence we've garnered.  It's the lessons we've learned that shaped who we've become.  It's the mistakes we've made that have made us stronger.  It's the Fish Fests, the hockey games, the beer pong, the laughs, the 3am Skyline runs, delivery beer & pizza, and the never ending nagging of professors.  It's these things and so much more that I am thankful for today.  Without them, I question who I would have become. Who would any of us be if we didn't have the pleasure and the freedom to experience the good and the bad and to learn from it all?

"If running is difficult, run more." -Says every runner on this planet.

(In it's truth, this can be applied to anything in life. Keep learning, keep growing, keep changing and most importantly, keep pushing.)

A really amazing couple, the parents of said valuable friend above, made a huge impact on me back when I was visiting.  While they hold their beliefs and values close to their hearts, they are very pragmatic and respectful of the views held by others.  The one common theme of any advice they could share was to "live your life authentically."  While visiting, I heard them say this over and over again.  At the time, I heard it as just another religious saying, another way to live your life devoted to a higher being. Having had time to reflect on this and seeing the life that I've been living, I know what it means to live your life authentically. 

Don't be somebody that you aren't.  Know who you are down to your deepest soul, to your biggest toe, to your weakest muscle.  Be genuine in what you do, in what you say. Tell him you love him as if the word had been marinating in your heart. Apply your learnings, both from books & the street, to your everyday life and always continue to seek new knowledge. This is what living life authentically means... to me.  To you? Perhaps it means to raise your children to the best of your abilities or to follow Christ's direction without falter. It can mean so much to so many people but in the end, it's simple: Be the type of person you should be, caring, respectful, loving. Act with intention and intelligence. 

“We have to dare to be ourselves, 

however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” 

-May Sarton

Just this morning a second person in my life told me to "live your life authentically." This came at the news of losing a past co-worker suddenly.  She was 35 years old-- not old enough to be sick, to be hurting, to be anything but enjoying her life. Yet, in the matter of days she went from sick to passing away.  

I handle death relatively well.  But this time, it made my stomach clench. I felt sick beyond belief. Was it because she passed away? Because I missed her? It was because I didn't take the time to stay in touch with her like I should have.  And because this can happen to anyone, at any time, we should all live our lives authentically. The saying really is true, tomorrow may never come. 

To Alissa, you sweet, funny, animal-loving woman: I am thankful for the time we had together. I am more thankful for the opportunity I had to get to know you AFTER you left Cox. I hope that whatever pain you felt, if any, is no longer a burden on you.  To your friends and family, I hope they can find strength in each other, cry together and remember you for who you were: one incredible woman with a story to tell. 

Happy New Day

So today I woke up, as per usual, and made my rounds with the morning routine.

Roll out of bed, growl a few times, pet the pup, kick some cats, turn on the news (why do I turn on the news in the mornings?), feel sad about the news, drink some 'joe (that will put a smile on your face!), and on and on.

Then I step on the scale, again, as per usual.

Why do I do this to myself? As if Kim's screaming, yelling, bitching and rude comments isn't enough to make me stop.

To my delight, I am somewhere around 8 pounds lighter than the day before.  Let's just scoot this around and see if I weigh the same 4" to the right. Then I weigh about 5 pounds less.  One scoot forward about 6", to the right about 2", and I hit a whopping 10 pound weight loss!

Obviously, my scale is broken. I think what's more broken is ME and the time I spent actually figuring out that it was in fact broken and that I did not miraculously lose 10 pounds over night.  ((One can always have hope, right?))  The batteries are dying and this is a GREAT thing.

You see, today, is a new day. I threw that thing in my closet <<I really should throw it AWAY.. but I too am a gluten for punishment and probably will want it back at some point>> and said to hell with being a slave to the scale.  If anyone knows the impacts of stress and anxiety on bodyweight, it's me. And yet, each morning I hop on that scale expecting miracles, only to be knocked back down by a pound or two. My workouts are beastly- I have a personal trainer. I do burpees for kicks and grunt my way through painful (read: absolutely worth it & SAFE) exercises.  This badassness will result in an INCREASE in weight and yet... I've let my happiness be spelled out by 3 simple numbers on a digital scale.

Why oh why.

It just so happened that on this new day of my life, another fantastic blog, (ironic that it, too, is written by a Jessica? I think not!) http://todaywasmeaningful.wordpress.com, had a new post: because of the shoes we'll wear.  Jessica wrote all about the impact we can make on this very day, based on the shoes we choose to put on.  Do I put on my slippers today and choose not to follow my drive or do I throw on my favorite Under Armour's and hit the pavement like I know I should?

Sometimes you just need that little bit of insight from someone other than your own intellect.  I can tell myself in 20 different ways, three different languages and with the sincerity of my deepest soul that I am perfect the way I am... but it won't work. It never does. It's a learning process, a changing process.

It's the way you look at life- the way you let life look.

Being a slave to anything but your own happiness, your own dreams and desires, is nothing but a waste of time and energy. You have to figure out how to look at life.  In that discovery you will figure out the way you'll let life look. 

I look at life as a journey, no, a path of many obstacles, some are a blast, some are exhausting, some are downright painful, but they all create the life in which I want to live and smile through.  Because of this, I let life look open & unwritten.  I'll write those pages, one day at a time.  Some days will wind up blank, perhaps with a question mark, or an exclamation mark, with no additional description needed. Others will simply be summed up by one of the many inspiring posts on Pinterest. But some pages, some of those really meaningful days, or successful days, or just plain happy days, will result in pages and pages worth of stories. Pages of smiling faces, great times with friends, with family. Those pages will be full of major set backs and countered with some amazing opportunities & celebrations.  

Find your life. Decide what you'll make it and let it look that way. 

Who Gets the Cheese in Your Story?

It's been a while since my last post.  I didn't want to force one, though I've tried quite a few times. There have been quite a few blogs that started with a paragraph and just as quickly as they came out, they were deleted.  

This past week or so has been challenging to an extent.  My happiness level was low and I set out to fix that.  Selfish Jess means no blog, poor communication at best, and a lack of interest in the goings on around me. 

So, I like challenges. In fact, they make me tick. Many have said I take them too serious, I'm too competitive, I get too angry, blah blah blah.

Here's what I say to those doubters, those nay-sayers, those who don't support my enthusiasm for challenge: I challenge myself to be the best me I can be. Challenge is healthy. It implies an unwillingness to settle for anything less than superb. 

“The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.” 

― Willie Nelson

Recently I've come to find that I'm competitive in more ways than just athletics.  There is a strong desire within me, and many others, to excel and succeed in all that we do, work, play, everything in between.  Yet many of us don't create the right pathways to reach our competitive goals.  We set goals for ourselves, we push ourselves to our limits, we race through ToughMudder (electrocution and all), sign up for a 75 mile bike ride... all for what? What is the goal in these activities? What are we reaching for?

Excellence. In each and every person's own mind, we have an idea of excellence. Of what that means to us, of how we use it to our advantage or disadvantage.  

I will fight my way to the top at my agency.

I will fight my way to that 75th mile. 

I will fight my way to happiness.

I will fight my way to the healthiest heart I can possibly have.

I will fight my way into that blasted bathing suit.

I will fight my way into a semi-completed home.

I will fight my way through any book, no matter if it's a snoozer. 

I will fight my way into relationships and I will fight to keep them strong. 

So, where are you competitive within your own life? There is a healthy balance between challenging yourself and setting yourself up for failure. We all do a little bit of both.  Many times I fail at what I challenge myself to do.  Unfortunately for those close to me, they get to hear the brunt of it.  Challenging ourselves should involve more thought, more planning.  How do we get to our goal? What do we need between now and then to ensure it is a success? I've challenged myself to become a healthier and more importantly a happier person.  So far, despite a bit of a setback, I've been on my way to being much happier and with that comes being healthier too. 

There's a lot of fight left in me... but it's dedicated to only what is worth my struggle.

Religulous

Most people know that I 'don't have a religious bone in my body.' I never have, not sure I ever will.  Do I believe in a higher power? No. Do I support those who do? Sure. Do I believe in something?

I believe in myself.

I believe that I am too blame for my actions. I believe that what I do directly impacts my future and the lives of those around me.  I don't believe that I already have a path laid out for my life. I believe that I can change it and make it what I want, without the help of a higher being.

I guess I have my own religion. I love the 10,000 foot view of Buddhism.  Buddhists practice selflessness.  They want for nothing and their lives are bountiful.  They believe that in the end, their actions and ONLY their actions are what make direct impacts on their lives.  They blame nothing but themselves. They believe in themselves. While I don't fully practice nor buy in to many of the aspects of Buddhism (not eating after noon, reaching Nirvana, worshipping multiple deities), the basic understanding and belief system is something to which I think all religions should look into.

This post comes as a direct result of the Cleveland area Catholics requesting a pardon so that they can enjoy stuffing their faces with hotdogs today: the Cleveland Indians Home Opener... on a Friday... during Lent.

I laughed. My jaw dropped. You. HAVE. to be kidding me.  Not only do I think it is absolutely ridiculous that anyone would expect the Bishop to waste time on deciding if they can or cannot have a hotdog today but also... what's more important to you? Eating a goddamn hotdog or respecting your faith? So, on every Friday during lent, Catholics show their respect and faith in Christ for the sacrifice he made... EXCEPT if Friday also happens to be a home opener.

Let me conclude this by saying: I have no religion and because of that, I am not judging anyone who practices a certain faith, especially Catholics.  What I am doing is questioning why something like this should even be considered.  I can understand requesting pardons for more serious matters... for things that come up because as we all know, life happens...I can understand requesting pardons in general, for a myriad of reasons, certainly.  What I can't understand is requesting a pardon FOR HOTDOGS.

“Anyone who thinks sitting in church can make you a Christian must also think that sitting in a garage can make you a car.” 
― Garrison Keillor

Big Wins, Winning Big

Sometimes I look at our new house and think what the hell were we thinking? It's in shambles. Boxes are everywhere. Outlets are hanging out of walls. 

What we're we thinking? We were thinking that it's the start to the rest of our lives. It's the house that we're going to make a home and we're already on our way there.  We've had some really big wins with this house and I need to remind myself that it's not in shambles. In fact, it's a pretty awesome house.  It's awesome because:

• We haven't killed each other... yet.
• There have been no broken bones as any direct result of said boxes.
• It's forced us to really learn how to communicate in a much more manageable way.
• I get to wake up next to him most mornings. 
• It's given us a lot of great memories already.
• We got an amazing deal on it. WIN.
• We've learned so much already and continue to learn more and more. For example, 18" bifold doors are NOT easy to find. In fact, they are impossible to find. 
• It gives us new goals, new plans, new excitement.

I'm going to make it my goal to start celebrating my wins, big or small, and I'm not going to hold back. It's a small step in my goal to be a happier person and to live life the way it should be lived. 

This morning, I slept through my alarm. Before, I would have let this absolutely run AND ruin my day. It would have laid the groundwork for the rest of the 'bad' to happen. Instead, this morning, I celebrated a WIN. I got ready in record timing, walked the dog, played with the cats, ate breakfast, chugged coffee, AND looked semi-cute and still made it to work before anyone else. WIN. On top of that, I've managed to laugh at it, smile and enjoy my day (a work WIN helped, of course).

Let's all celebrate our small wins, our big accomplishments, and anything that falls in between.  We deserve it. 

Life Does Happen

Last night I was feeling pretty awful. For the first time ever, I had a sinus headache.  Holy PRESSURE. I wake up this morning, a Friday, the start to a beautiful weekend... and it's made it's way into my ears, throat and I still have a throbbing forehead.

Life happens.

The other day I had to squeeze my giant thighs into some hoes.  After wrestling the sausage casing, I'm ready to walk out the door when I notice a huge run right down the leg.  Unpack the sausages, give 'em some new casing... they're inside out.

Life happens.

I decided to finish the edging of our ceilings in the master bath. Real simple- get out white ceiling paint, paint ceiling edges, put white ceiling paint away. Watch paint dry. TWO DIFFERENT WHITE PAINTS.

Oh... life really happens sometimes.

Hanging a towel rack. First holes found a stud. Broke wall anchors. Second holes, found another stud.  First holes and second holes managed to become one giant gaping hole.

Life happens A LOT.

This Malaysian Airliner story has been a huge focus of mine this past week.  Life didn't happen to these passengers.  Life was robbed from them, both figuratively and literally.  These people got on a plane with one goal in mind: getting to their destination.  They probably woke up, kissed someone goodbye, or maybe received an angry e-mail from a business contact.  Maybe they ate breakfast in a rush or spilled coffee on their pants.  They may have been running late to the airport, got stuck at security, or left their cell phone chargers at home.  These things are LIFE.  They are what happens to us no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try.  But this plane getting hijacked (presumably) is not life. It is so sad to me, so unbelievably heartbreaking, that they still cannot locate this plane.  The families, the friends, the acquaintances, the coworkers, the business partners... they have no closure.  Their lives have come to a screeching halt.  The fiancé of the only American on that flight has a bag packed with clothes for her and clothes for him when she gets the call.  This tragedy has changed the path of her life permanently.

Life happens A LOT. Things don't go as planned, we trip over our words and we vomit up thoughts.  We see the bad before we see the good and only then is when we try to dust off our glasses.  What about the good times when life happens?

On a whim, 5 years ago, I decided to end a longterm relationship so I could be reunited with the person I've always known is my soulmate.

Life happened.

I was offered the opportunity to work at an agency, a place I've worked so hard to get to, and quit my old job in SECONDS.

Life happened.

I opened myself up to meeting new friends and through that I've found some pretty amazing women (Schmidty, Natty and Kim).

Life happened.

If all we do is focus on the bad and we can't smile about the good, what do we have? It's not just this Malaysian flight that makes me see these things but the pain I feel for the victims and their families is something I cannot describe.

If for every 'bad' we could see the 'good', perhaps if not for anything more than our own personal satisfaction, we could find a happiness that is always there, lingering, dangling over us, begging and pleading for us to just breathe and enjoy life when it happens.

"All the adversity I've had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles, have strengthened me... You may not realize it when it happens but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." Mr. Disney

Family is Friends is Family

What makes a family? Is it two parents, one male, one female? Children, at least one? Do you have to share the same blood? Must you come from the same ancestry line? Does family mean you are automatically gifted with friends for life? 

Dictionary.com: a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children,considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not: thetraditional family.

Merriam Webster: a group of people who are related to each other, a person's children, a group of related people including people who lived in the past.  

TheFreeDictionary.com: Two or more people who share goals and values, have long-term commitments to one another, and reside usually in the same dwelling place.

UrbanDictionary.com: A bunch of people who hate each other and eat dinner together.

Family is more than blood, it's more than who you were given to at birth. It's more than a title or descriptor and it's most certainly more than a last name.  

When people ask me who I am, the last thing that comes to mind is 'daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, cousin.'

Family is about those people, those special people in life that have a way of sneaking into your thoughts when you least expect it. It's those who surprise you with their love and gratitude. It's the ones you never expected to grow fond of and the next thing you know you're sending them updates on your life, they're sending you pictures of their sons soapbox derby trophy. 

Family is that group of people that aren't forced to be a part of your life and yet become solid cornerstones in your day-to-day activities. 

I'm thankful for my family and lately, most especially thankful for my Zimmerman/Bracken/Gallen family. These guys have managed to wiggle their way into a world that I felt had no room left. They've filled a void I didn't realize I had.  They've given me strength, shown me respect, took care of me when needed and when all else failed, they were all right there, willing to help, when Matt and I needed them most.  The last few years have thrown a few punches our way, figuratively and literally.  Through all of the punches, all of the celebrations, this group has held steady, kept me afloat and most importantly kept me laughing. 

Some of my family <3

Me, Heather and Slutcakes on Put-n-Bay for Slutcakes' Bachelorette party.

 

Me and my pseudo-niece Katie. Love this little lady.

Brit, me, Lor, other Brit. Vacation 2013.
"ARMADILLOS"

Gary, Pat, and Colleen at Pat's birthday party.  

Me and my Natty after Tough Mudder.

Me and my dad. My best friend. The man who
makes the world spin on it's axis... and
sometimes the man who makes it go the other
way. :)

My grandma. Such a beautiful smile... a beautiful
laugh... a beautiful woman. 

Women Won't Rule the World

There is so much talk about women's bodies, their looks, their hair, the way their hips sway when they walk, the cellulite on the backs of their thighs (oh my god!), the way three random strands of hair always stick up on the side of their heads, how imperfect her toenail polish is and jesus, the nerve she has to wear a sweater from two months ago. 

This is NOT your typical feminist blog. I am not your typical woman. 

Recently, I had a photo posted of me on Facebook. 

I believe this is compliments to Larissa Markus, though from
the beers in the air and the cheesy smiles, I'm not sure I can
accurately give credit. :)

That's me... "the dude in the female 1980s bathing suit." Well, at least that's how one Facebooker described me.  

For those of you who don't know me, outwardly, I'm pretty self-confident. I am confident in my intelligence, in my work ethic, in my beliefs and in my relationships.  Inwardly, I struggle consistently with my body image and how I feel about myself physically. When this photo was posted, I actually felt a sense of pride. I saw myself as a fit, solid woman. I'm not a toothpick, I never will be, but I can look at that picture and be damn proud of how far I've come. 

You give that photo TEN MINUTES on social media, and some other FEMALE has the nerve to rip me apart.  I'm not sure which part of me looks like a 'dude'... and I'm not sure why my 2013 Victoria's Secret bathing suit looks as those it's from the 80's...

What I'm sure of is this: that one little comment, those words from a complete stranger, tore apart any sense of pride I had in that photo, in myself, in all of my hard work.

The point is: why do women do this to each other? How are women ever going to get ahead in the game of life if we continue to tear each other down?  I like to think that I'm immune to the shit-talking, the body-shaming, the negative people but this proved I'm not. The worst part is that I immediately looked up who she was to see if she had "the right" to say those things about me.  

What is that 'right'? If this girl would have been thinner than me and prettier than me, would that have given her THE RIGHT to say these things? If she's fatter, or "manlier" than me, does that mean she can't say these things? 

WHAT IS THAT RIGHT?

No one has the right to make anyone feel less than worthy, less than adequate, less than themselves. It's my personality to make that person see what she did wrong but this time, I didn't. I didn't because my response would have been something along the lines of "where does your fat lesbian ass get off thinking you can come at me with those words?" That makes me just as bad as she is. And maybe I am. I've been guilty of passing judgment. I'm sure we all have to an extent. 

Never have I blatantly said something to another person about the way they look, the way their body is shaped, the way their ears are lopsided or how their nose is curved slightly to the left.  I've never wanted to purposely hurt someone based solely on their appearance or their apparent lack of style. 

Women have a hard enough time battling body image and self esteem let alone with the help of their counterparts.  Even the most beautiful people in the world have issues. I promise you Heidi Klum doesn't wake up every morning and think to herself "my god, I'm a work of art." I would bet my life savings [read: this isn't much of a bet] that Kate Moss, Eva Longoria, Cindy Crawford and the girl next door don't think they are perfect, stunning or groundbreakingly beautiful either. It's all perspective.  We see these women as beautiful, an unattainable beauty only celebrities have.  But with the millions of dollars, the personal trainers, the makeup artists and hairstylists, these ladies are still ladies. They still wake up with matted hair and bags under their eyes. They still have cellulite and 'wings' under their arms. They still have to wax their eyebrows and put on lipstick the same way we do. 

Can we just take a break from caring about what each other looks like and start caring about what each other has to say, think and feel? While it's hard to look past completely, it's shoved in our faces all day every day, there has to come a point where our thoughts and intelligence supersede our curves and our wrinkles. 

Those that know me know I'm stubborn.

There are few things in life I KNOW I'm bad at.

Yes, this means I live in denial. I hate admitting I'm wrong, ESPECIALLY when I AM wrong. I also hate being bad at things, not being able to do things well, not knowing how to do things.  All of this translates into "Jess, you suck at life."

This house is a good example.  The simplest things are really not that simple at all. Mudding a crack, for instance, is not just about locating said crack and smearing on some mud and letting it dry. No. As a matter of fact, you must locate said crack, smear on a thick yet even coat of mud, let dry, sand down ALMOST to the wall yet not quite while using the proper grit sand paper, clean off dust completely, REMUD yet again only this time a much thinner coat, still even, AND SAND IT AGAIN. This task is continued until perfection.

I. AM. NOT. PERFECT. 

Failure Dos: Zoloft is back in my life. Why I see this as a failure is beyond me when in all reality I know that it is a very smart decision.  Being off of it was refreshing and a relief... not so much for Matt or anyone else in my life.  So, instead of the usual 100mg, I've started back up taking 50mg a day and have seen major changes.  Ideally, I will continue this for quite some time and eventually cut the dosage back even more.  <<No Doctor comments needed. I know what I'm doing is not appropriate.>>

So this begs the question why.  Why do I see these sorts of things as failures?  They aren't failures. They are new learnings, new discoveries, new ways to live life, new outlooks, new relationships.  Regardless, in my mind they are failures and I need to work on seeing it all differently.  

“Trying to be perfect may be inevitable for people who are smart and ambitious and interested in the world and its good opinion...What is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” 

― Anna Quindlen

Lost in the Words

I need to read a book. The feeling of being so lost in a world that is out there somewhere, somewhere that you can never reach accept within the confines of your own mind. I love that feeling. Where you can't get enough of it. You can't put the book down no matter how busy you are, how tired you are.  I need that. A mini vacation from a never-slowing mind.

This past Saturday held two important events for me: getting coffee and celebrating Laura's birthday. You question the coffee, I get it. But let's be honest here: 4 hours of Master's classes without coffee is downright cruel and that's just what happened.  SO, it was VERY important that I get coffee immediately following said snoozefest.

Laura's birthday. I started thinking about birthdays. We're 27 years old. Do we really have birthday parties anymore? Does it matter? What I realized DOES matter is that I've celebrated so many birthdays with this woman, this magnificent person that I am lucky enough to have in my life.  How many people can say they've had the same best friend since they were kids playing on the monkey bars?  What's more is that no matter the distance, no matter the amount of communication, no matter the disagreements, morals, values and lifestyles, we've somehow managed to hang onto something really important.

It's not that we've held onto 'being best friends'...

It's not that occasionally we still know what the other is thinking...

What really matters is that as two individuals, we have been able to grow from children to adults and maintain a trust and a bond and a connection that most people can't say they have. For this and for her, I am undeniably grateful in every way possible.

<<And if we're being real here, how could I have possibly partied with her Saturday night without first drowning myself in a cup o' joe?>>

And in the appropriately wise words of one fish named Dory: No. No, you can't... STOP. Please don't go away. Please? No one's ever stuck with me for so long before. And if you leave... if you leave... I just, I remember things better with you. I do, look. P. Sherman, forty-two... forty-two... I remember it, I do. It's there, I know it is, because when I look at you, I can feel it. And-and I look at you, and I... and I'm home. Please... I don't want that to go away. I don't want to forget.

When It Rains... It Rains.

This week has been pretty trying.

"The jug fills drop by drop." -Buddha

Friday morning, 2am, I begin traipsing through 2" of freezing cold rain water.  Unfortunately, I wasn't dancing in the rain (though I would have been much happier doing so, even if it was ice cold) and no, I wasn't dreaming/nightmaring. Instead, my house became a river, pieces of paper became fish in the big living room sea. <<Sunny Sidebar: Julie was absolutely terrified of these new floating inhabitants in her living room.>>

My home was under attack by Mother Nature and she wasn't giving up with ease. See, our hot water tank has been acting up. We know it's life is going to be over soon. 

Please, please let this be the hot water tank. Cross fingers. Rub buddha's bald head.  

"MATTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It wasn't the hot water tank. It was melting snow, Mother Nature's tears (and surprisingly none of mine). Living room, laundry room, bathroom, bedroom- SWAMPED. There is no stopping this so we decide to go back to bed. Fast forward to 7am. My otherbrother Mikey comes over in a jiffy to help us dry this place out.  Long story short: flooring- gone. Carpet- gone. Ego- what ego? 

Phew. We are getting no breaks...

-Ain't no rest for the wicked-

[I wish money grew on my trees.]

Try as you might, this one is hard to get over.  A few awesome people made these points, and I must say, their logic is spot on.

-Be thankful it wasn't sewage. 

-Hey! Now you can get new floors!

-Lucky you haven't started working on the lower level yet.

On the brightish side, Saturday was a nice little breather.  Habitat for Humanity's Restore had a huge lighting sale.  We pick out a fabulous 'chandelier' (read: awesome light that looks like a bird cage) for the foyer, $100 and check out. $10.80 later, we have a brand new chandelier.  Don't ask questions, we didn't.  Next we learn that Danny Vegh's is going out of business.  Because we absolutely need a pool table for our living room swamp, we decide to check it out. Here is what we find: a pile of 20 or more 12" x 12" canvases, all of which are different shades of red with what I presume to be abstract designs.  We are told they are actually sets that make up one large painting and if we can match them up, we can have each canvas for $5. 

In the end, we put 3 separate pieces of artwork together, 6 canvases in each, that match PERFECTLY with what we are doing in the kitchen. I have seen nothing like this before. Danny Vegh's daughter walks by and tells us how awesome it is that we found all matching pieces and that she'll give them to us for $100/set (so $300 total). 

tires screeching.

So first, we're told $5/each which would total $90 for all 18 canvases (3 total pieces of art).  

Second we're told $100/each piece of art which would total $300 for all 18 canvases.

Third, we go to check out and are told they are $10/canvas for a total of $180. 

In the end, we got them for $90.  The kicker?  Each set has a little tiny price sticker of $500. 

Alright, let's do the math.

Light: $100 price tag, $10 out the door.

Canvases: $1500 price tag, $90 out the door.

Cha-Ching!

Saturday was a lot of bonding time with him and I. Lots of laughs and lots of talking. We ended up at Melt, tried to kill ourselves on giant grilled cheese sandwiches and then spent time with otherbrothers and almost-niece & nephew.  I love those guys. 

So what has come of this weekend? We got our cabinet doors on. I can pseudo-cook and use our new appliances. Mostly, at the end of the day, despite a minor (cough, major) breakdown earlier, I get to curl up in bed (ignore the fact that it is literally the only place you can sit in the house right now due to said living room sea) with an unbelievably handsome man and my little 'piglet.'

A friend reached out today, struggling with some things and I reminded her of my favorite poem that I think I have recited to her multiple times.  Enjoy~

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning

And company doesn't mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts

And presents aren't promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn...

That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure...

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth...

And you learn and learn...

With every good-bye you learn.

Love you, N.R.C. 

Some of the smallest things...

So a wise woman told me yesterday, in different yet similar terms, one needs to view your small accomplishments as none other but accomplishments- no matter the size.  So instead of making lists of what needs to be done and focusing on what DIDN'T get done, focus on what did.

Our "Honey Let's Do This" list only keeps getting longer.  I cross things off as we go and it feels good, temporarily, until I look at what isn't crossed off and am literally drowned in house-stress.

So let's do this; let's look at what has been accomplished since we moved into our not-so-dreamy dream home.

• general
• removed all internal doors in the house (that's 10)
• sanded, repainted
• we rid our yard of over 17 garbage bags of debris. holy Buddha that was a lot
• we replaced our roof.  Yes, that's WE. Not a contractor, not a roofer, WE did (with help of course).

Roof compliments of Zimmerman,
Bracken & Brandenburg, LLC.

From pep to, to mud, to pepto-y, to mud,
to a lot of sand to a very beautiful black door
and White Duck paint. (Door idea
compliments of Schmidty). 

• Small guest bedroom: demolished.  Demolished means:
• sanded the walls down to the drywall
• recoated them in mud
• sanded all the mud off
• recoated them in more mud
• sanded flat
• painted
• painted all the trim
• painted the ceilings
• painted the door
• replaced electrical box
• the beauty in disguise: OUR KITCHEN (photos below)
• tore out ceiling and ceiling fan
• redid ENTIRE CEILING - drywall, stucco (kill me if I ever do that again)
• tore out the dishwasher
• tore out counter tops
• removed all cabinet doors
• sanded cabinet doors
• painted cabinet doors
• replaced sliding glass door (right)
• replaced kitchen window
• installed:
• gas line
• gas range
• refrigerator
• dishwasher
• sink/faucets



Sure, let's put a giant hole in our
house in the middle of winter.
Love to my brothers, Mikey and Don.

• garbage disposal
• mastering the master
• tore out carpet
• sanded and filled holes
• scrubbed master bath and master closet
• carpet ordered
• purchased and ready for installation/use:
• master bedroom ceiling fans
• all air ducts
• microwave
• carpet

Final product- stucco work
by yours truly.

SO CLOSE.

I think in the end, what I love most about what we have accomplished is the absolutely ridiculous shit that had to happen for us to get here.

Like... Brian jinxing me, ultimately resulting in this: 

Yes, I stepped on that bucked and fell straight down inside that mud. Both feet, favorite Under Armor's... all I could do was laugh (and of course take photographic evidence).

Then those moments where we think we can we think we can... and probably just shouldn't have... but we did, it worked, and we laughed the whole way home, bent over like the National Lampoon's Home Remodeling Episode 1.

There's always that moment when you find someone's REAL tooth in your new home, right? No?

And then you have that dog. That dog that you love way too much for your own good.  That love is, of course, exacerbated when non-hubs claims his love for her too and you catch him kissing her on the head. <3 But really, this dog: she keeps us sane and keeps us laughing.  Preparing to paint, bright light on a wet coat of mud, drop cloth ready for red paint spills... and this dog found her perfect place to lay: soft padding below, warmth on the face = heaven for a pitty. 

I'm missing a lot from the list above. but what's important is that even what is there is astonishing.  All of this has been completed in less than 4 months.

And for that, I am happy.