Out On A Limb...

For him. You said you were caught in the rain when you called. I smiled because you called. It was a day that I wished could have been better, and you said the same. It's like the blind leading the blind as far as we are concerned. Scared-scarred hopeless romantics biding our time until the words get said. Will they? I wanted to be there with you-smiling up at you Trying to find a sign behind those sea-blue eyes. I wanted the rain to drip from your lips like honey to mine And to hear-I'm yours. I wanted to be wrapped up in your woolen coat feeling your heartbeat behind the cross. No matter the meaning-I knew what was there. Underneath it all. You said you were caught in the rain when you called. And I was warm at home. But I couldn't stop myself from wishing I were caught in the rain too. Because if I were-I would be standing next to you.

I was recently watching a special on VH1 about abstinence and a fairly new tradition that has become increasingly popular in the last 10 years-especially here, in the bible belt of the good ol' USA. Purity Balls. I HAD to comment. First off...what purity balls are: (courtesy of Wikipedia) "A formal ball dance event attended by fathers and their daughters. Purity balls promote virginity until marriage for teenage girls, and are often closely associated with Evangelical Christian churches in the USA. Typically, daughters who attend make a virginity pledge; a pledge to remain sexually abstinent until marriage. Fathers who attend pledge to protect what they view as their young daughters' purity of mind, body, and soul. Proponents promote a strong father-daughter relationship as a means to affirm what they consider to constitute spiritual and physical purity." Ok...deep breath...here goes Jadedgirl on a complete and total rant. First off...it's creeptastic. ...

I have been thinking a lot today about my new writing assignment-or NANOWRIMO. Truth be told, I'm getting a little freaked out by it. Or, overwhelmed...if you will. Writing a novel is a BIG undertaking, and scares the holy crap outta me. I'm excited too, don't get me wrong. But, (sigh) the self-doubting troll that lives in my brain has been rearing it's ugly voice more often than naught lately. It talks to me... Yes, I said it...my self-doubting troll talks to me. Yeah...like you don't have a self-doubting troll in your head that talks to you. Oh...you don't? My bad. Anyway, it says things like..."But, Jaded...what if you get bored and don't finish-you fickle bitch!" And "But Jaded...what if it just royally sucks and no one would ever want to read it?" And...last but not least it says: "You will never come up with an ending. Your ending will suck." And that last whisper of the troll...is what is plaguing me the mos...

I wanted to purge today. I briefly mentioned in my last post about someone who let me down...hell, I'll just say it-it was Doug. I won't go into deep details, I'll just say that his selfishness knows no bounds apparently. I always knew he was a bit selfish, but this? I never imagined. So, I am done. We are no longer friends...acquaintances...lovers...buddies... We are NOTHING. This move, or decision was very difficult for me. I have been hanging on by a thread as it is with him...and probably would have forever in some aspect had he not done this. Maybe he did me a favor...who knows? What I do know is this: I'm done. And true to the self-torturous and self-afflicting person I am...of course...I miss him, terribly. I miss him more now than I have-probably ever. I keep getting flashes of him in my head, and I have to shake them off. It's been a really hard week for me, what can I say, really? So, getting to my point here... (yes...I did have a poin...

My wonderful writing cohorts have led me down a narrow path. LOL It's not dark...but it IS scary. I am going to try to begin a manuscript, and in order to do this...I have decided to enroll my lazy, undisciplined ass into NANOWRIMO (an anagram for a writing contest hosted every year) My mission? 50,000 words in 30 days. That averages out to be something around 1,500 words a day. All following a story. Unedited, of course. So...who thinks I have lost my FUCKING mind? Ok...besides me...that makes a few of us. Either way...here goes nothing. I am NOT going to write an outline, or plan anything...I am just going to shoot from the hip and cross my fingers that I am able to put something together that doesn't read like this: "All work and no play, makes T a dull girl...All work and no play makes T a dull girl..." Etc... There's no snow on the ground yet, and I don't own an axe...so I think we are safe. I think... This, my friends, is going ...

I am considering being myself today. Although I haven't decided who that is yet. Ok, ok...I know who I am-but, somedays I don't want to be me. I want to be super sexual vixen, I want to be perfect mommy housewife, (yes yes...this requires marriage, I know...but I role play so well some days I can hardly tell the difference) I want to be thin, I want to be smarter-I want to be funnier. I want to be back with my ex. I just don't want to be me. Today, I think I will be me. A little insecure, a litte overweight, semi-attractive, smart-assy, high-strung single mother of one whiny but sweet 9 year old boy, who says things on a daily basis that cracks me up. That's who I am today. Me. I started out the day with a large cup of pumpkin spice cappuccinno out of the machine at the nearest Freedom gas station. Ok...not good coffee by any stretch of the imagination-but has enough caffiene to kill a small shetland. And, at 9am...pony-killing caffiene is exactly what the doct...

Warning...the content of this post is for adult eyes only. If you are easily offended, sheltered, repressed, under the age of 18, or otherwise scared of sexual content...please leave now. Otherwise...press on...this is gonna be a good one. I have been thinking a lot about sex, lately. About the high it brings me, the need, the grand hold it has over me, my mood, and my general well being. Some people smoke the dope...some people drink...some people indulge in using a therapist (I call this an indulgence because it happens to be really expensive) and then there are others like me...who believe and feel and KNOW that sex is the healer of most wounds. I am not the typical woman...using sex and all things of a sexual nature as a weapon. I am a woman who actually likes sex. Ok...well...I may have been being coy, here...I LOVE sex. It is the thing that calms my psyche, makes me revel in my womanhood. Makes me feel luxurious and naughty and young. It titilates all of my senses...sm...

Ummm...really? Yes...I know I already said that in the title...but I want to get my point across as vividly as humanly possible. I am single, as most of you already know given my past blogging explorations. I have never been married, nor do I assume that I ever will be. Honestly, I gave up on the concept years ago, truth be told. I have a few married friends, but most of my closer pals are also single, either divorced, or like me, hopeless. I wouldn't say I like being single all of the time, but I have grown weary of compromises, and feel that the solid way to go is to just live my life and not dwell on the situation as it is. I like all women, and don't choose to keep company with all marrieds, or non-marrieds. But lately I have been noticing a trend with those of the coupled persuasion. A disturbing trend that, quite frankly and for lack of a better term that does it justice, bugs the crap out of me. The rules of the game: 1. I am not after your husband. I may ...

“Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought.” -E.Y. Harburg I have been instructed to blog, by my fearless friend: The Ranting Griffin. (Check out his blog...it's the bees knees) Anyway...I guess I better get to it. Today's topic...music, in case you couldn't tell from the quote up above... I have a wide range in music tastes...I daresay that I love it all...with some exceptions (Ska and Bluegrass...the two most obnoxious genres of sound in the entire universe) But, I digress. I do however, love everything else, musically. Some might consider my repertoire almost schizo, or based on a strict regimen of Ritalin. When I unfurl my EVERLONG Ipod list...I get some very strange looks, indeed. I'll give you a sample...so maybe you can relate: Butch Walker-Hot Girls In good Moods B.O.B. (featuring Bruno Mars)-Nothin on You 311-Down Chaka Khan and Rufus- Tell Me Something Good Flyleaf-All around Me Cla...

"No boy of mine gonna be playin an foosball!" -Mama Bouchez Are you ready for some football???? Yeah...thought so. The season of fall brings with it the happy hot cocoa sipping, hoodie-wearing, foam finger-wielding, painted face, CRUNCH football life. And this Jadedgirl couldn't be happier. I sit in my nine-dollar Wal-Mart lawn chair every Monday-Thursday evenings watching my little athlete knock the snot out of the unsuspecting scrimmage offensive guard. And...it makes me happy. I find that I am not a "typical" football mom, though. First of all...I am probably the only woman at practices that is "single" And I am also a lot less...erm....for lack of a better term "girlie-poo" Now, don't get me wrong...I DO still very much enjoy retail-therapy, and wearing my signature color (pink) and getting my hair and nails did...ghetto-fab. But...I am an enigma that way. I also LOVE fist-pumping, locker-room talking, and discussing how c...

Yellow Pages media is dead...ok...maybe not dead yet...but on life support. The journey on my last career path was one that was not expected. As a matter of fact, it wasn't really even wanted at the time of original employment. The job description sounded suspiciously like telemarketing, or smile and dial work. I am a marketing professional...and the thought of working in another call center did not appeal to me in the very least. I had spent some younger years chained to a desk in a slave-driven call center...and as far as I was concerned I had paid my undergraduate dues in that kind of hell already. Never. Never. Never-again. I shrugged off the suspicion long enough to at least job shadow, and found that I had been incorrect in my assumption. This particular job was nothing like telemarketing...and it seemed much more difficult that I had originally assumed. I was up for the challenge, though. I quickly caught on to the business of business in the "boomin...