Catch up.

Happy Monday, future Jenni and everybody who doesn't read this blog!

JK...to the former, not the latter.  This Monday won't be happy until there's about two more gallons of coffee flowing through my system.  Workin' on it.  The shoppette (aka cheap gas station store thing on post) has some cheap version of pumpkin spice coffee and I'm sucking that shit down like water, or booze.  Pick your poison.

Time to share some good vibes for the start of this week!  Get happy, mah peoples!

 

 

All images pulled from Pinterest.  Please refer to link for image sources.

Now, let's catch up.

- I'm 22.  Its a big deal, don't get it twisted.  My birthday was filled with delicious food and copious amounts of alcohol.  Do I remember most of the night?  No.  Was it amazing?  Hell yes.  Youngins, don't learn from me.  Alcohol is really bad for you and will make hair grow on your chest.

- Three more weeks until this semester is over!

- It snowed.  Winter is here.  Wah wah.  If I wasn't such a chicken about driving in crappy weather then I might feel a bit more positive about this development.

 

 

Landscaping pro, obvs.

 - Close friend, who I have talked a little about on here previously, and I are no longer friends.  Not my choice, and truly for the best.  Obviously she was at her wits end with something, though I'm not sure what since there was no communication at all, and I was almost there myself.  I hate to sound lame and cliche but good damn riddance.

 - I'm hosting my first ever Thanksgiving meal this week.  It'll just be me and ten "gentlemen" aka guys focused on beer.  How is there ever going to be enough food?  Idk, don't ask me, I'll let you know later.

Somebody bring me some more coffee.  Bitte (please)?

XO, Jenni

Hard times and simple joys.

Yesterday, in a word, sucked.  It was true Monday Madness.

I'm not the type to air out dirty laundry, especially when it doesn't just involve myself, but let's just say that things at work aren't okay; being blamed for something that's not your fault by people you thought were friends is not fun.  A coworker I consider one of my best friends even came to my desk just to yell at me.  And though I don't have to go to work today, I'm counting on being shamed more when I go back tomorrow.  Whoopee.

That's why I thought it was appropriate to make-up Monday's Inspiration today!  There's never a bad time to bring some more positivity in to this world.  And its so important that, even through those times in which bad things are unjustly happening to you and you feel more alone than ever, you hold your head high and continue sharing love.

All images pulled from Tumblr.  Sources unknown.

Why does it seem that its during the tough, lonely times that we tend to find simple joys and build a strong sense of self?  Though, maybe it's just me.

Today's simple joys:

Watching Mirror Mirror (LOVE Lily Collins and the styling is ridic)

Working on homework

Drinking coffee

Doing laundry (better than lighting a candle)

Loving on my dog

Keep holding on, lovelies.  New beautiful things are waiting right around the corner.  And go find the simple joys, you won't regret it.

XO, Jenni

Can I just take a nap right here?

Just at my desk?  For a few minutes?  Please say yes!
I have one of the only problems in the world that coffee can not solve...

Men, cover your ears.  Or eyes?  Whatev.  It's about to get really (not) lady-like up in here.


It's been one of those days, and weeks, that just ultimately sucks.  I'm bloated, and moody, and grumpy, and freakin' exhausted.

Have a guess yet?

Yeah, that really crappy time known by some well-seasoned women as a "period" is here.

A week of feeling like I'm going out of my mind because I've cried three times in the past hour, I'm breaking out in places I didn't even know had pores and all I dream about is floating on a chocolate donut in a pool of mac n cheese.

Jon gets really tired of the crying.
Bought the wrong thing?  Cry.  Tickles Me?  Cry.  Morning tea?  Cry.

If this sucks so bad, I don't even want to imagine what pregnancy is going to be like. *shudder*

Tonight will probably consist of some homemade nachos and watching Alice in Wonderland on repeat to soothe my aching ovaries.

 

Anybody have awesome remedies for this lady hangover, aka aunt flow, aka the week of death?

Love y’all.
Get it right, get it tight.

Oh yeah, wait, rapping is not my day job.
A girl can dream.

(work in progress)

Coffee, and more coffee, keep showing up at my desk somehow.  I'm not sure where it comes from, necessarily.  Coffee is magical.  It bewitches me, encases me in a chocolate brown haze of caffeine (or lack thereof) and I sleepily shuffle to the counter where an order spills out of my mouth and a perfectly bitter drink is balanced in my hand.

I swear, honey, the debit card just swipes itself.

Sadly, I'm almost sure it's this overload of caffeine that has caused a minuscule twitch in my left eye to continue all day.  Random smacks in an attempt to calm the hyperactive muscles have been to no avail.

***

I'm contemplating taking an online writing class.  I used to write short stories.  They emptied my mind of all the things I'd been wanting to say but could only express through the narrative of another life.  It was calming.  It might help my anxiety, like running on the treadmill until I'm unable to feel my numb feet thudding on the rubber belt.  I may not be running anywhere but it sure feels damn good when the adrenaline has been exhausted on something other than the wild, scary thoughts that scurry around in my brain and sometimes slip out from between my lips.

My high school English teacher, in his own way, encouraged my writing.  I was the kid in high school that always did well while doing nothing.  I was in every higher level class offered at my school and, I believe, only ever read one book.  Just one.  But there was a time in my senior year during which depression rolled me around and I failed.  To graduate, I needed to pass my English class and I wasn't, not anywhere close.  Mr. Kenney worked out a black market deal with me to make up the credit: turn in a page of writing a day, any kind, and I would pass.

So my weird, depression-recovering, stubborn self said, "Yes, I will take your deal and meet it with one unusual or awkward piece of writing every day."

I wrote some crap, seriously.  When I got bored, I wrote a bullshit resume, though of course the style was altered to reflect my rebellion against society's call for perfection.

I also wrote some really, really cool stuff that I'm still proud of.  Like the personification of blue.  It was (and I pause hesitantly) glorious.  It's a piece of writing that I secretly dream of one day publishing.

Mr. Kenney told me that I was the only student he knew who could actually become a writer.  I wrote five pieces for the entire quarter and passed.

Maybe this writing will go somewhere.  Maybe it'll take me away to writer's land where the women are hip, wearing high-waisted skinny jeans and a slouchy men's shirt, sipping tiny cups of caramel colored espresso and typing away at their expensive laptops with that apple logo, blissfully ignorant of the cacophony of human interactions going on around them.  They're focused on their purpose: writing.

But it probably won't go anywhere, at least not like those fairy tale fantasies.  I'll still be me, showing up everywhere with wet hair and no makeup, spilling coffee on my pants, scarves and dog, and wearing my underwear inside out.

And that's ok too.  Maybe that's better.  Though that underwear thing should probably be worked out.

***

 Big bugs mean it's almost summer.  Ew.

New necklace

 Curious

He's beautiful

I'm bias