Friday, February 28, 2014

I am woman, hear me roar!!


I normally try to reserve my blog for things related to my craft of work, but every once in a while (which seems more often lately) something really irks me and I feel I need to write about it. I chalk it up to saying, I am still writing, which in a sense is a “craft.”

 

The other day I was approached by a stranger who said, “You would be amazing to photograph, you have a beautiful face, very pretty legs, but I think you would have to trim down the middle if you wanted to make it a serious profession.” One, no I don’t want to make being a model a serious profession, I have no idea where that came from. And two, the nerve people have saying this to complete strangers. I in fact did not reply, mainly because it would have turned into me screaming at him about how rude it is to tell a woman she should try to be smaller, skinnier, more trim. Basically, if someone ever approaches me and says, “You’re chubby, you should hop on a treadmill,” I might actually punch them in the face. If I come back demanding respect I get the “she’s a feminist crazy girl” look, which honestly most women should have. We are women yes, we do demand respect, and I am one that will fight until I achieve it.

 

When did it become more attractive to look like a mini bean pole? When were curves and a full bodied woman seen as unattractive? I don’t think beauty is about a dress size I think it’s about the confidence you carry, the dazzle of your personality, however I have never had a guy come up to me and say, “wow, your brain is beautiful.” Women are looked at as a sexual object. We are objectified, shot down, pushed into the corset of societies ideals of what beautiful should be. We wake up and pile on the makeup and hair products, we squeeze into tight dresses and short skirts, snap into the super lift extra curvy bra and plaster on the sparkling smile because….why? To impress? To feel beautiful? We buy certain outfits that not only fit, but also slim, to hide unwanted extra belly fat or disguise the extra wide hips and larger thighs. This isn’t just annoying, it can be utterly depressing. And then you open a magazine and see all the size zero models with perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect outfits and massive amounts of Photoshop that ISN’T REAL!!

 

Women are taught at a young age, through ways of observation, that we are to be thin and dainty. We must refrain from speaking our minds and keep opinions to ourselves. If we choose to speak we must choose our words wisely. Women aren’t to be on top in the work place, we are to remain just beneath the status quo. You know what I say to that, I say SCREW IT! No, I will not take a back seat when I want to sit in the front. I will wear pants and tank tops and flats to work if I want to, I will wear a dress when it suits ME. I will speak honestly, and don’t think I won’t be forward you will hear what I am thinking. Yes I do want that last cookie, no I don’t want to stop eating bread, yes I know that sandwich has calories, and no I don’t want a non-fat extra lite soy calorie free latte. Give me the sugar, the fat, the everything I want because I want it. In a lovely poetry slam edition, a poet named Lily Myers stood and shared an impressive poem called “Shrinking Women.” http://hereandnowwbur.org  It’s worth a watch, and it explains the issues of what we have learned through our lives as a woman and how completely ridiculous it is that we continue to live this way.

 

Mean while, on the male’s side, I won’t lie you have your own fish to fry. But….you can actually eat the fried fish can’t you? You don’t worry about too much extra when you waltz into older age, men look esteemed and classic with grey hair, round glowing cheeks, a full belly and a scruff of beard. Women, you better color that hair. You better buy gobs of wrinkle contol, pore diminishing,  skin brightener, luminating cream, cover up, and when all else fails go under the knife to rip out the fat, tuck up the laughter lines and crow’s feet and why not lift the flat breasts while you’re at it so the world has something to look at when they are talking to you. Do you see the ridiculousness of this harsh difference? I'd you don't you are...ignoring it.

 

The problem with being a woman and dealing with this struggle to maintain appearances is that even when you go the lengths to be “perfect” from the eyes of the world today, it doesn’t always work. In the business world, it almost doesn’t matter what you look like, you are female and that is already one negative aspect against you. When thinking about publishing my novel I am thinking of using a suedo name so that I am not based on my name alone when people go to look at my work. How sad is that? I am afraid that I won’t be judged on my work, but solely on my sexual being. I am a woman, therefore my novel is filled with yucky women stuff, lovey dovey mush, and of course whiny unmanageable characters. NO YOU ARE WRONG! That doesn’t stop the publishing world from thinking it though. In a Huffington Post article I was amazed at the research done by VIDA stating the differences of publication stats of men and women.

 

“According to VIDA's study, the New Yorker published 459 pieces by men vs. 165 pieces by women in 2011. The New Republic published 198 articles by men vs. 50 articles by women. The New York Times Book Review reviewed 520 male authors vs. 273 female authors. It is not the first time someone has called the New York Times Book Review out on not paying enough attention to female novelists.”- Huffington Post

 

“The numbers show what many of us have suspected or known for a while: women are underrepresented on every level in these publications.

The stats are published online in the form of pie charts, and there’s something peculiarly poignant about seeing them broken down in this way: the small blue female slice, often scandalously slim, in a big red pie. The New York Review of Books last year published 79 women and 462 men; The Times Literary Supplement reviewed books by 330 women and 1036 men; The Paris Review interviewed one woman author and seven men. That’s a small slice.”- The Wheeler Center

 

I wish I could say, “I am going to change the worlds view on this!” I wish I could say that it were as easy as a spoken word, but it isn’t. Women look at themselves with a notion of needing to make themselves better to fit in. Look at Marilyn Monroe, she changed everything about herself just to take a place in the spotlight. She was a beautiful curvy woman, but the spot light highlights the flaws society deems unworthy of perfection. I can’t change what people think, but I can change how I live my own life. I am who I am, and I will be loved that way or not, but I won’t allow the NOTS to cinch me into the mold they prefer. I am a size 10, I have curves and I am proud of what my mama gave me. Take it or leave it, because I will never change my appearance or who I am for someone else’s gratification.

 

So I am going to go eat a healthy sandwich, because I want to, and follow it up with a big pint of ice cream…because YUM! You better hide delicious calories, I am coming to get you!!!

 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

When did dating turn into this?

I am going to Preface this with a small note: I don’t need to explain to you why I am single, but I feel maybe other women want to hear they aren’t alone in the issues that crop up when you are a strong independent single woman.

 

I am going to follow that up with a small message: I don’t appreciate when I tell a guy I want to take my time, and get to know him and he automatically assume I am rejecting him and tell me…and I quote… “maybe you should go find some dumb ass meat head who only wants to get in your pants, maybe you just want that anyway.” Doesn’t that also mean that you are turning your hate on me because you are lonely and…also I quote…. “just want to be with someone, anyone, it doesn’t matter who as long as she wants to be with me. I don’t want to be single, and I want to find someone who also doesn’t want to be single.”

 

Yesterday I was asked a very simple question, one I know I have been asked before but for some reason when this question filtered through my synapses into my brain, it really irked me. The question was: “Why are you still single, is there something wrong with you?”

 

Now, to explain the situation, on this date were discussing the difficult position of being single when February hits. I, on one hand, would love a sweet romantic evening, but at the same time I don’t want that from any joe-schmoe. I would love to be with the person I love and care about, but if I don’t have that when the infamous hallmark holiday comes around I don’t get sad. I don’t worry about being alone, and I don’t care that I treat it like any other normal day. I actually enjoy being single, I enjoy the freedom and the carefree way I am able to live my life. Now, that isn’t to say being in a relationship sucks. If you are in a healthy relationship and love your S.O. then awesome for you, and I am happy for you!! I am only trying to get the point across that whether you are in a relationship or you are not, you should love living your life and enjoy what you have. Being single comes with many perks, as does being in a relationship, but when someone actually makes the point to stab at my singleness like it’s a disease, it makes me a little annoyed.

 

I am not single because I am forced to be, I am single because I choose to be. There is a very big difference between the two. I would rather be happy on my own than be in a miserable relationship because I am afraid to be by myself. Just because I am alone, doesn’t make me terminally lonely.

 

Something else that has happened more recently;  I am finding a lot of men take me trying to “be friends first” in a negative way. If I don’t meet a guy in the normal organic way, and we meet with the precedent of going on a date, they almost automatically assume that if the date went well I will be their girlfriend by the end of the week. I’m sorry boys, it doesn’t work that way. Even worse, they expect that if the date went well and I show interest, they assume they will also get lucky by the end of the night. I really really don’t understand that logic. (Now, disclaimer….of course this isn’t every date. I have had some seriously great dates, have amazing guy friends, and have dated some wonderful men that I am still really good friends with. Those are the men that I share with the people in my life, of course you don’t really hear about these guys that I am referring to because they rarely last longer than a week on my radar. Just needed to clarify.)

 

Look I like going on dates, I like meeting new people, and I like making new friends in the wild search for my one “true partner in crime.” The problem is, that once you do something that the guy you’re on a date with doesn’t like or agree with you immediately get dubbed the slut, the bitch, the crazy, the overly sensitive…they go from telling you they are beautiful to calling you a crazy psycho bitch in less than 30 seconds.

 

Now I am not knocking the dating scene, or first dates, on-line dating, or anything that involves dating. Like I said, I do enjoy the random outing, but I am more and more amazed at the reactions I get from guys when I tell them something they don’t want to hear. The list of things they usually get upset with……

1)      You are really nice, and thank you for the date, but I really think I should go home instead of going back to your place

2)      Well I have only known you for less than a day really, I don’t think being your girlfriend right now is a good idea

3)      I like to take my time and get to know a person before I become romantically involved with a person

4)      The first date was fun, but I don’t think you are what I am looking for in a relationship

 

Actual responses to these statements

1)      I thought you were fun and easy going not a stuck up bitch

2)      I thought we were really great together, we had so much fun. I guess I was wrong about you though, you just aren’t up to par of what a perfect woman should be

3)      Does that mean you play the field and sleep around, because I don’t date whores

4)      Fine, whatever, go sleep with all those other ass bags who treat you like crap. You probably like them for that anyways, sluts normally do.

Talk about defensive, crazy critical…..and RUDE!!

 

I know your reaction might be….”Jessica, why are you taking this so seriously?” Well, to be honest I am not taking it to heart, but I think I am more amazed at how many times this has happened in the last three years of me being single. This isn’t a onetime thing, this has happened repeatedly. Those men who swear they are the last gentleman alive, but then call you a total bitch and whore because you didn’t sleep with them. It seriously boggles my MIND!!!

 

The truth of the matter, I don’t need a man to be happy. I don’t need to lock down a boyfriend ASAP to make myself feel fulfilled. I don’t need someone else telling me who I am, and how I should  live my life, and that they think I am a shitty person. I know who I am, and I won’t apologize for also knowing what I want.

 

I am a single woman.

I am independent.

I am happy…and no one can take that away from me.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The competition BEGINS!

I have some very exciting and totally terrifying news to share with you my peeps. I'm submitting my MANNY into a writing contest!! I have a month to write a queary, aka synopsis, perfect the first 3000-5000 words (to snag the judges interest) and edit the entire first draft of my little adventure novel. By little I mean 175,000 words...no biggie right? Yeah, my nails are rapidly disappearing from all the nervous biting. Eep!!
So if you don't hear from me much over the next month you will know why. Wish me luck as I take on this behemoth of a contest, and thank you to Matt Tomlinson for giving me the information to compete. I'm off, and as my favorite hobbit eloquently : I'm going on an adventure!! (Basically I'll be sitting in front of my laptop for the next month straight, it's very exciting work let me tell you)

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Weapons of Self Destruction

Don't worry dear sweet
This won't take long
It will happen so fast
You won't even know
Look at the pictures
And take it all in
Stab your self hard
Don't you dare give in
Hold onto the knife
Don't you dare let it go
Push it in deep
Until you can't say no
Listen to me now
There's nothing to save
Watch yourself bleed out
All over the page
Rip your chest open
And bare it to me
Blessed sweet darling
Give it all up to me
And when you see him
For the very next time
You'll feel nothing inside
Where it once felt Devine
Now tear out the dagger
You shoved so hard in
And submit to the tears
Before your new life begins

My inner dialogue....

Today I find that I think of random quotes, emotions, heartfelt words…they cram into my brain and fill my day with a flurry of images. I try to imagine the words on the page floating onto the screen, how do I describe this moment for the reader to see in their minds? How do I paint a picture with words that everyone knows but have never heard before? I yearn to share these moments, I want you to see the struggle and moments of elation with these characters that I have grown so fond of. I want to share this world with you, I want you to hear their voice and feel their pain. I only want you to see what I see, because to me, this story is beautiful.

-the constant thoughts of an aspiring writer

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

A book to be shared with the masses

There are moments in life, moments that you never see coming but when they arrive they reverberate. Like a ripple in water, and you know that you will always remember it. They are moments of perfection. Where everything lines up perfectly and for a brief moment in time everything is good. In those moments you realize that you are both omnipotent and insignificant. That your own existence is meaningless but at the same time everything is the way it is everywhere because of every little action have ever made. I am, therefore everything else is.
Jack and Jill a zombie love story- Matthew Tomlinson

Friday, January 3, 2014

Short Story: The Unexpected New Year's Kiss

Cheers to a New Year my friends...here is a fun little short story for you to enjoy. Hope you like!


Glancing around the deserted street and sidewalk I glared hopefully up to the apparently empty building. No sign or welcoming neon lights pulled in the randoms and wanderers, it was by specific direction and word of mouth only that my favorite place could be found. Tucked behind the busy streets of down town Las Vegas, nudged between a sex shop and a watch repair building stood my favorite bar in the whole city; Bilbo’s Tavern.

Warm brick stacked haphazardly across the front of the building face with two boarded sections seemingly closing off barren windows and a lone street light casting a wide berth of orangish light over the black pavement. It was off the well-worn path of down town, not even remotely close to the strip of mass excitement and dirty escapades for what my beloved city is known for.

Tonight wasn’t a normal night though, the swarms of bodies filled the streets and bellowed their excitement into the bitter cold air with excited fervor. It was New Year’s Eve and only 40 minutes to the stroke of Midnight and for the first time in many many years I was completely alone.
At first I thought staying home would be a good idea, I even relished the thought of climbing into bed early tucking my feet beneath my plush new comforter and ringing in the New Year next to be best friend and closest confidant my little pug Wrigley. Unfortunately, 30 minutes before I dashed out of my quiet and quaint apartment, I saw a post on Facebook that changed everything about my plans for the evening. 

My long ago ex and long lost best friend of my past was engaged and at a fabulous party with his shiny new fiancé, and shiny new suit and tie. It was enough to make me vomit, but instead of sitting inside my apartment and wallowing in my own self-pity, I jumped out of bed, ran a brush through my tangled hair and slipped into the sexiest party dress I owned. My makeup was a little rushed, but still fancy enough for where I was headed, and my hair though slightly flat held a ruffled just out of bed sexy look to it. So maybe I was a little desperate to not feel so alone on the one night a year you don’t really want to be alone at all, but as I stood in front of the barren looking bar that had been my favorite retreat for years I almost regretted my decision.

I didn’t need the alcohol in my system, and I didn’t really need to be surrounded by a bunch of strangers that I didn’t care about, but what I did need was noise and distraction. Bilbo’s was the perfect place for that.
My three inch shiny gold heels clicked over the pavement as I sashayed toward the front entrance. As I pulled the heavy wooden door away from the wall wild music assaulted my brain with fierce intensity.

“ID,” the door man barked at me before looking up.

“It’s me Vic,” I practically yelled back over the raucous music thumping heavily into my bones.

“Ah, James! Good to see you girl, looking good tonight. Who’s the lucky guy on your arm?” The meat head door man looked past me into the empty alley way waiting for a second body to fill the already packed bar.

“Going stag tonight my friend,” I responded easily to which he frowned in response.

“That’s no good! You are far to pretty to be alone tonight. First drink is on me babe. Go tell Mark at the bar that your whiskey is on the house tonight.”

Always the one to please the pretty ladies that walked into his domain, I smiled sweetly into Vic’s dark brown eyes and thanked him for his generosity.

“I don’t think you will be alone for long in that outfit my dear,” he yelled at me as I sauntered toward the bar. Despite his overly bulky muscles and shaved head, Vic was a sweetheart in the middle. He appeared to be a door weight and a face without a brain, but he was one of the sweetest guys on a day to day basis.

Walking up to the bar my favorite bartender and long time good friend Mark saw me as I pushed my way through the sea of bodies to reach the mahogany bar top. “What’s it to be tonight ma’dear?”

“Whiskey on the rocks tonight, make it a double, generosity of Vic,” I said with a wave to the door.

“Coming at you,” Mark said as he pulled one of his top shelf Glenlivets from the glass shelves behind him. “Just one drink?” He questioned looking around behind me for a possible guest in tow.
“Just the one.”

The monitor overheard blasted the time and a video feed of the wild parties running around the strip of Vegas. It looked like fun, and I knew it would have been wild to be in the center of the party on New Year’s Eve, but again I just didn’t feel like a party. Perhaps it was the absence of all my long time friends, or that I had just broken up with my most recent boyfriend less than a month before. Either way, tonight was about hanging out and celebrating a new year. I wasn’t about to let the strain of being alone bother me.

Backing away from the bar top and into the throngs of bodies I lost my footing and slammed into a slightly squishy body just behind me.

“Whoa there little darlin’,” a high pitched voice belted out from behind me.

I turned around to find a young looking man not much older than possibly 25 with a thick black beard, overly tight grey pants and a shirt that clung a little to tightly to his round and beer filled belly. His face was slightly round but pleasant as he smiled down at me as I turned to apologize for ramming into him.

“That’s no problem at all, I don’t mind people running into me when they are as cute as you. What’s your name pretty lady?”

“Jamie, but most people call me James,” I said loudly.

“James,” he said experimentally before taking a sip of his beer adorned with a orange. My nose scrunched in annoyance at his beverage which I immediately tried to hide. I have always been a lover of good drinks, fine wines, oaky whiskey, and flavorful beers, but I can’t help but turn up my nose as beers with fruit in them. Something about it just seems terribly wrong. Good beer doesn’t need a flavor addition, good beer is good all on it’s own. Then again, that was the exact reason why all of my friends called me an uber beer snob.

“I’m Terrance,” the beer belly guy said as he pushed his chubby hand in my direction.

“Nice to meet you Terrance.”

He smiled at me with a look of intense hunger before he leaned in a little closer giving me a full nose of barbeque sauce and citrus beer. “You here alone James? A girl as pretty as you can’t be alone at Midnight, what would she possibly do for a New Year’s kiss?”

“Well I…” started to say, then jumped almost a foot in the air as a warm arm slinked around my waist and hoisted me up against soft warm flannel.

“There you are love, I have been looking for you,” a deep voice resonated from beside me.

I glanced up completely startled at the voice and saw sharp green eyes glittering down at me. I didn’t know this man who's hand was all too comfortable resting on my hip melding the black silk tightly to my skin.

“Oh Jude, I didn’t know you came with a date. Sorry man, didn’t mean to step in,” Terrance said slowly before backing away from me.

“No worries man, no harm no foul,” Jude said good naturedly.

“Nice meeting you James,” Terrance said before melting back into the crowd.

I stumbled away from Jude’s grip completely baffled at his forwardness in pulling me against him and tricking Terrance who was being a perfect gentleman away from me.

“What was that for?” I barked at him.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be next to that guy when the clock hits midnight. He has a pocket full of pills that would leave you without a sense of what you were doing. I just saved you a trip to the hospital, and a walk of shame that you wouldn’t have remembered.

I was completely blown away. “You can’t be serious,” I said completely dead pan.

“Cross my heart,” he said slowly before dragging a finger in an X motion over his chest.

Looking up into his deep green eyes I took in his full appearance and couldn’t believe how completely gorgeous he was. Not in a traditional way, but for me his look spelled trouble for my future. Long black hair curled about his head landing just below his ears. Thick eyebrows settled heavily over his wide green eyes leading down to a slightly narrowed nose. His face though angled and narrow gave his appearance a boyish quality as well as rugged with the overly scruffy cheeks and chin. He wore a red and black long sleeve flannel hanging over slightly tight black jeans and stocky black boots. Several tattoos peeked out from random places of open skin along his neck and his left hand bringing out the bad boy nature slightly covered by a mountain man display. A silver stud winked at me from the corner of his lower lip matching the twin silver plugs lodged in either ear.

“Jude is it?” I said slowly.

“Nice to meet you James was it? Interesting name for a girl,” he stated with a small grin on his face.

“It’s Jamie actually, but everyone calls me James. Long standing nic-name.”

“Well, James, since I just did you a huge favor I think you will have to make it up to me.” His eyes sparked with humor as his hand found its way back to my waist.

“Is that so?” I responded taking a small step back away from him. He might be really good looking and perhaps he had rescued me from a possible disaster, but I still didn’t know the guy and didn’t really like his tendency to touch me so intimately.

“You see until I saw you walk through that door, not a single girl caught my eye. I am alone on New Year’s Eve and I think that is just a horrible position to be in don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I seem to be doing alright with it so far,” I said bravely lifting my glass in his direction but as I glanced up at the clock the minutes to midnight were dwindling and I couldn’t get the image of my ex and his shiny new fiancé out of my head.

“You aren’t that good of a liar,” he clipped out.

“How do you know I’m lying?”

“Because you have glanced at the clock five times since we started talking and that was less than ten minutes ago.”

I paused without a single rebuttal and smiled at his forceful nature. I liked him, and I was pretty sure he knew it.

“So the plan is, I am going to walk up to the bar and order you a tasty beer. You look the type to like a good stout am I right?” I nodded enthusiastically. “And then I am going to come back here and cheers to the New Year with my new friend before I give her the best kiss she has ever had in 2014.”

“It isn’t 2014 yet?”

“Then I won’t have much competition will I?”

I giggled like a dumb school girl. What the hell was wrong with me? He turned around with a flirty wink and headed toward the bar with 12 minutes left in the year. Returning with two Duvel glasses filled to the brim with a rich creamy stout, Jude handed me my glass before clinking the lip of his to mine.

“Let’s cheers to a New Year, new friends, and our mutal friend Mark who told me I would be a blithering idiot if I didn’t approach you and try to steal a kiss from you tonight.”

My mouth almost hit the ground. “He didn’t!”

“He definitely did. That man has been hitting on me for almost two years now, and finally for once he plays the perfect gay wing man. I put in a lot of time to get a girl tip from him. Apparently he pointed me in the right direction.”

“You have been coming here for two years?” I asked more shocked than anything else. I had been going to Bilbo’s for almost two years as well. It was strange that I had never met Jude before. The bar was large, but I would have noticed him if I had ever seen him.

“Yes Ma’am I have. Perhaps fate decided tonight was the night for us.” He winked again before taking a sip of his beer prompting me to taste mine. He had hit the nail on the head with his choice. The chocolaty stout filled my senses with warmth and flavor bursting over my tongue like every delicious beer does. It was perfect.

Voices surrounding us began the countdown at 20 yelling out each number like a march toward victory. Jude pulled me in closer and this time I didn’t back away. Not only did I not want to, but something about his smile and the way his eyes flashed as they looked at me made me curious about him so much more. The realization that our kiss would be a mingled taste of stout and chocolate peeked my excitement that much more.
His free hand moved from my waist and drifted up to cup the side of my face as the countdown reached ten. “Hope you are ready for this wild adventure Miss James.”

“I’m not so sure you can handle what’s coming to you Sir Jude.”

His eyes flashed sharply before a wicked smile splashed over his features. “Oh you my dear, have no idea what you just signed up for.”

At the screaming sound of Happy New Year surrounding us, Jude leaned close pulling my lips toward his drowning me with the heat of his breath and the thick smell of wet dog. My mind didn’t quite register the smell, but just as he pulled me but an inch away from his lips his tongue ducked out and licked me full across the side of the face.

“What the…,” I jolted out of the haze losing my balance before I fell butt first to the ground. Shaking my head my eyes strained to part before a wild yip barked in my ear and 22 lbs of puppy pounced on me kissing me with full excitement.
My eyes snapped open immediately to find myself still dressed warmly in my nice cozy red and black flannel pants sprawled out on living room floor after having fallen off the couch.

Every minute of that evening at my favorite bar was a complete and total dream. I had never actually left my apartment, and instead had completely missed the ring of midnight. My little puppy still wild with energy after the loud burst of fireworks from outside my apartment jumped all over me in attempt to lick my face until he was content I’d had enough.

“Looks like you are my New Year’s kiss this year little guy,” I said as a scratched the short hair on his wrinkly head. “Maybe next year I will find my Jude.”

Wrigley barked his affirmation at me before lunging toward my face again. Perhaps this year wasn’t my year for some hot stranger to find me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for a new year full of surprises.

Lifting my glass of warmed stout to my lips I smiled as I watched the end song of Across the Universe play on my tv. Glancing at the clock I realized I hadn't in fact missed the new year, it was only 10:50. Dashing with the speed of an Olympic runner I ran to my room and ripped out a pair of heels and threw on my silky black dress. I kissed my little pug good night and headed out the door.

Time to go find my Jude.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Just random thoughts....

Nothing crazy special to talk about, but I just changed my blog background. See....nothing special, but there it is. The information for the day. And a funny pug picture...because their awesome!!!