You make me wanna say

What happened to real music.

Maybe I have a different sense of 'real' music than most people my age. I saw a Facebook post saying "wow, Usher's OMG is PERFECTION' so naturally I felt compeled to search it down and listen. It is not perfection! I loved Usher. I spent my hard earned money to see him in concert and I will admit i even joined in a rushing of the stage. That was back when he spent more time dancing and singing then fiddling with his voice changers and crying about his baby-mama's.

Gone is the days of crooners and true vocal abilities. In are the days of sythesized music and fakeness. I remember as a kid my mom gave me one of those microphones that echoed your voice and made you sound all fake voiced. Apparently this handy dandy childs toy is the inspiration for today's music.

I really do not care to listen to what sounds like someone making a fake voice on the computer. Give me a real singing voice, with real lyrics instead of repeating the same 1-2 lines OVER and over. Really. Please? Are my 23 year old ears that oldfashioned that I can not handle this pathetic attempt at 'music'?

I do not claim to have ANY vocal abilities, but that does not mean I am tone deaf and so dumb I will believe the robot voice really comes from you. It doesn't.

Read more...

A Birthing Story.

But not really!

I woke up this morning to a pounding on my door. Before I could even get my mind to realize it wasn't a stampede of drunken elephants, my door swung open. There stood my father panting, in track pants and a winter sweater. What...the...? My normally well dressed father looked like he had gotten dressed in the dark. There he stood, panting and moaning.

" What is wrong?!", I exclaimed, still slightly in dream world.

He explained that he was feeling pain in his leg and the surgeon had instructed him to go to the hospital. All i could picture was-this is what it would be like to take someone in labor to the hospital. For a few minutes I felt like I was in a time warp and my father was having a baby. I blame to semi-asleepness.

So I haul out of bed screeching about my wild lady hair, and begin frantically looking for clothes.

"Don't you worry, I'll get you there!", I half mumble as I continue digging. A throat clear from behind me.

"We ..uh... don't need to be there until 1:00", he informs me. I glance at the clock which proudly tells me it is not even 10 yet, meaning I still have a few more hours of sleep. At this point I think my body went into instant snooze. I gently pushed him out before closing my door and crawling back into bed.

Needless to say, I am now up,showered ,dressed and a little bit skeptical. He claims he has been in unbareable pain all night. Yet he is sitting downstairs watching old cowboy movies and drinking coffee, laughing away. Something feels off, like I might still be dreaming? I think maybe he just needs a little more attention than one person has to give him.

hmm. More to come on what I am sure will be an interesting emergancy visit

Read more...

I saw the sun

And a cloud monster ATE IT!

Seriously.

Dear Weather,

My name is Jessica. I have a wedding in a month and I am severely in need of a tan.
After a terribly long winter spent indoors, my spanish skin has started to look....pale. This is simply unacceptable. I would much appreciate it if you could spray some de-cloud. My skin craves the sun, and perhaps a but of a tan. Hopefully I will not have to resort to a tanning bed or self tanner in the meantime.

Yes, I understand it is possibly to get sun even with clouds. However I feel it is impossible to sit outside when it is raining, snowing, below 50 degrees or the clouds are so thick it looks like fog.

Please take my idea into consideration!

Thanks,

Albino chica.

Read more...

Getting Old While You Are Still Young

In the past few years I have begun to realize how fast I was forced to grow up.

In my 20's I should be out living life and having a ball. And, sometimes I do. Most of the time I don't. It's not for lack of trying. I just, do not enjoy it anymore.

Around the age of 6 I started going to my aunt's house after school. She had Multiple Sclerosis and 2 young sons. I would get off the bus and walk her oldest home. I was often left in charge of feeding them and changing them as her illness progressed. We moved when i was 8.

I had a few years of being a kid before my mom was dianosed with Multiple Sclerosis too, amoung various other illnesses. In the begining she was able to fend for herself, but it was always in the back of my mind that she would one day need me. As I got older, while my friends were having parties and sleepovers, it became harder to have them at my house. My mom was constantly getting worse and introducing her to things like colds were not a good idea. I hid her away iI admit it. Sometimes she would forget who I was, why would I want to share that?

Around 18, after one semester of college, my mother confessed that she had suffered through a deep depression over me leaving which had set her MS into a flair. Around this time her current Home Health Aid had come into some money and decided to quit. My mother asked me to come home. I did no questions asked and stayed until she died. 5 years. (so you can see I didnt just lose my mother, I lost my life, my job, my education and my friends)

Friends are not always the easiest thing to hold onto during these times. My friends wanted to go out and party or just out in general. In the begining I did those things, but as my mother came to rely on me more those things stopped. I had to cancel or come home early. On nights out to the bar I spent most of those nights as a designated driver because chances were my mom would need me when I got home.

At the time I felt like i was doing the right thing. In my mind I was being a good daughter. I took over cleaning, cooking, scheduling medical visits. I drove her where-ever she wanted. I did all her medicines and grocery shopping. I in essance became the sole caregiver and housewife. My father helped when he was able., but god love him, he was in his 60's with a bad back and working full time. I ended up taking care of him too.

I will never regret the times I had with my mother, but I don't have to like them. By my teens I was viewed by my elders as an equal because I was forced to grow up and see things most teens will never see. I really never got to enjoy those teen and young adult years becuase of the life I lived.

So on a night like tonight, when I know there is some "famous" host at our local downtown club complex, where my highschool friends are having a party for one of the girls, and the thought of going holds zero interest-I feel a bit sad. I wish I wanted to be there, to act crazy, make a few mistakes have a blast. I almost wish it even crossed their minds to think to invite me.They probably knew I wouldnt enjoy it anyways.It all just seems to pointless to me.

Read more...

Nostalgia, Reviews and a Little bit of This and That.

Generally I am not one to really look back and mourn the old days. But lately I have a little bit.

This is not a whine about lost friendships, old stories, or missing family. Bloggers, it is you I miss. I miss the old blogs when people sat around and just, ya know, wrote. Now when you open a person's blog you will most certainly find a few messy sentences put together with a ton of pictures to support the heavy load of the blog. While ,granted, some blogs, like fashion blogs, rely on a picture to help you grab an idea, please put a little effort into the actual written part. Give me something more than a link to a store where I can get the item shown, or its knock-off sister.

Please, please do not get me wrong. I enjoy pictures. I really do, but just every once in a while I would love to sit down with my coffee and read. After all, this is an internet journel (so i supose you can say I am a snoop), but I like to sit down and read a little bit just to feel like I learn something about you.

I love an author like Amy from lifeinslowmotion. She hold nothing back and it is wonderful. To read about her pregnancy and raising her young daughter makes you feel like you are apart of her life. Beyond her children she blogs about her beliefs, her likes and dislikes and her little 'farm'. I can honestly say, without ever having met this woman or ever having the chance to meet her in the future, that I feel as if I know her. She is candid and smart. I enjoy seeing what I will learn from her any given week. To date I have learned the good and bad of pregnancies, how to sprout a small crop of my own veggies, how to raise chickens, and the list goes on.

I also enjoy a more recently found blogger, Allie from HyperboleandaHalf .She is without a doubt the funniest blogger I have stumbled across. Her witty banter and hilarious pictures leave me craving for more. She is an example of someone who can equal out the ratio of picture vs. storyline. Regardless if all her wild tales are true or false, she is someone who knows how to hold an audiences attention. I know on a bad day a story my Allie will leave me with a little smile on my face!

I supose I really have no say in the world of bloggery because, really, who am I? I don't have any fans, and chances are I don't have any readers. Honestly that doesn't bother me. In a world where we often have to censor our thoughts so as not to upset someone, here we can all be our real selves.But that in itself is a whole other story!

I don't claim to be a blog genius. I love run-on sentences, bad grammar and the occasional nonsensical post. On the off chance one of the two bloggers I mentioned actually reads this: My intention was not to make you feel uncomfortable as a blogger. I really just wanted to state that I enjoyed your blogs.That is all. No stalker tendancies, scouts honor. *grin*

Read more...

Hey Hey~ Pay Attention to me!

I thought of a sickness story for you. It involves my whole week!

Sunday: I woke up feeling like ass. Everything hurt i felt like a spiked demon had crawled into my mouth while i slept and attached to my tonsil. My nose started oozing copious amounts of fluids. I considered the option of death as i layed in my bed until 6am wheezing and drowning in my own secretion.

Monday: As i staggered down the stairs my father looks at me."You look like crap!..uh..not to be mean or anything its just that...welll..." I think i croaked out a thank you as i rummaged through the drawers for a knife to cut my tonsils out. My father eventually took pity on me and made me an appointment with my Doctor. After a few hums and ews. He mumbles something like "nnaasssty" after looking in my ears, nose and throat. He also seemed skeptical about my only having felt sick for one day ahead of this. I immadiately began picturing all the illnesses I could have.

Side note: I seem to teeter on the line of normal and hypochondria. Usually i fall over the line and begin to imagine that I have cancer, or will need some sort of transplant. I begin to think of what life would be like IF....

Tuesday: After another night of wheezing and drowning in my own snot, I was even more exhausted. I began to actually consider that my doctor was wrong and I had a horrible illness and not just a severe infection. I remember laying in my bed, whistless and praying to the gods to have pity on me. They pitied me by adding a painful hacking cough to my list. Eventually it occured to me that the annoying noise I kept hearing was someone at the door. After i staggered down the stairs gingerly whiping my red nose and coughing like i was fighting for my last breath, I finally made it to the door. There stood a giant, hair, dirty man."Wow, are you going to die? You look horrible!," exclaims my new giant. Apparently this man didnt know what tact was. I told him i have the plague and he was going to die just for looking at me. He seemed a little uncomfortable. Hell if i know why though.

Tuesday Night: I had determined that I was going to sleep if it killed me. It nearly did. I took my prescribed meds, rubbed some vicks, and drank some tea. Shortly after settling into bed with my book to watch Glee, I had to pee. I dragged my listless body from bed and immediately collapsed. After attempting and failing a few times to get up I decided to just lay down for a bit and hope to not pee myself. I remember staring at a crumpled tissue as if it was my sole reason for surviving. Eventually I made it to my feet. The world would not stop titling! I made it to the bathroom, which was no small accomplishment as I nearly fell down the stairs. After falling asleep on the toilet for no specified amount of time I began to worry. It crossed my mind to wake my dad so he could decide if i needed a doctor. But, since his surgery, he can not drive. If i woke him I would still have to get myself there, which clearly was not going to happen. Eventually after a few false starts, I made it back to bed. I prayed that I would wake up.


By the way,judging by the hail outside. It's a good thing I already made myself collect the trash. Yipes

Read more...

Stop! It's sexy time

Hair frazzled and perma pony-tailed? check

Nose red, pealing and runny? check

Loss of taste and smell? check

I do believe that classifies me in crappy sickness. I am horribly infected and in dire need of sleep.

It hasnt been a good week and frankly I am too tired to come up with an interesting story. Be happy to know I still live.

blog on

Read more...