A new year, right? Resolutions, weight loss, blah blah blah. Stuff you and I both know will never happen! I’ve never understand the whole “resolution” process, as I find it to be just another way to set myself up for failure. AMIRITE????
Instead, I offer this terrific subustitution. What will make your new year so much more awesome than last year???
I’ll go first.
Shooting guns bigger than me
Puppy loves
Old friends
New friends
Cute little owls are nice, too. So is the holiday flavors at Starbucks.
Umm..
this guy is pretty rad.
So is the man in that photo.
Rearranging Christmas lawn decorations with my brother
Pulling off quite possibly THEE best planks EVAR
This guy pulling up next to me at a stop light…When you see it, you’ll know epic win!
Playing with the picture settings on my wordpress blog
And finally, (for the moment)
Nerding out at a space museum
How about you? What will make this year extra-full of awesomeness?
Hugs and Sunny Surf,
Jessica and Gertrude
(see mah new nosering?? I’ve wanted it for years and finally did it. No big deal at all. Figured that’s because of all the poking and prodding I’ve dealt with in the past few years. I LOVE it!)
I hope y’all actually click this music video this time because it really tells a great story about Identity and what it means to women.
I was inspired to write this little quip by a comment on my last blog post. Most people have no idea just how much something as simple as hair means to an individual’s identity; especially for a woman. I keep my hair short. That is my identity. I change the color about as often as my underwear. That buzzed up backside is a badge of courage. I do it so women know that you are NOT your hair! Hair is an accessory. Just like a scarf or a wig or hat. Hell, glue little rhinestones on your baldness and rock that out! (WHY didn’t I think of that last year when I was getting chemo???? dammit.)
Recently, I saw the film 50/50 and if one wants to make a valid attempt at understanding the emotional roller coaster canSer takes its host on, watch that film. There is absolutely NOTHING more dehumanizing than being forced to shave your hair off. NOTHING.
In order to feel that I was in control, I buzzed it all off before mine even started falling out. It was liberating but nonetheless dehumanizing. I never cried in front of anyone about it, even though I often wanted to. But you know what? If you need to cry, then do it. You’re entitled to that. Have your breakdown. Then later, remember that YOU are not your hair. Be free of it. Those who truly got your back will love you with or without hair, ovaries, boobs, Jimmy Choos, (insert whatever you want right here.)
Pretty is what changes, folks. Bald IS beautiful. There’s your proof.
In the meantime, here are a few videos that will show you how to wrap up your noggin in some awesome ways. I would often glue up some fake bangs underneath the front. (use hairglue and weaving tracks or eyelash glue.) Also, you can get pretty inexpensive weave from lots of different beauty supply stores….especially ones in “da hood.” Those were my favorite ones! To be honest, I STILL wrap it up sometimes. Just because I LOVE the look so much. Pashima and cotton work the best as silk and satin tend to slip and get really hot. And don’t worry about needing a “hair bun.” It isn’t necessary. I speak from experience.
It’s beginning to be THAT time of year, so, of course I must ALSO annoy you with ridiculously early Christmas music. BUT…at least mine is so cool to look at, right??
Things have been amazing and rough all at the same time. Did some more time this past month. (as in hospitals not prisons, but whose counting anyway?) However, I’m now well on the path to recovery (yet again) and am here to chew bubble gum and kick ass. And guess what I’m aaaaaaallll out of….
heh.
So, in light of recent issues and the impending doom that is the holiday season, I’ve started my own Scentsy business.
Yes, that’s right! I’m an Independent Scentsy Consultant and I’m quite excited about it!
If you’re stumped on what to get your mom for Christmas or need a terrific office party gift, then Scentsy is for you.
Orders can be placed through my personal website Jedi Mindwick
If the yummy smells don’t sell you, the clever name should.
Now that I’ve pimped out my little business to you, it’s time for some inspiration type happy stuffs.
The other day I found myself discussing my extreme hatred for my scar with a close friend of mine. Body Image is something women struggle with no matter who they are and a gnarly, 14 inch scar does not help matters. So I’ve decided it is time to attempt to embrace the force within and do what I do best. Make fun of it.
I’m seriously considering getting it tattooed to look like a monster or something is crawling out of my belly. Maybe a zombie should come out! How appropriate would that be?
So here’s my question and challenge to you, dear reader.
What is it about YOUR body that you struggle with?
Is it your weight? Your hair? Maybe you think you have webbed feet?
My challenge to you is to figure out what YOU need to do in order to accept the way you were designed.
Do you need to start walking every morning? Maybe you could use a good shampoo and cut? (NO ONE likes dirty bum hair, okay??) Or maybe you just need a big ole’ stinky rotting zombie coming out of your bellybutton like I do.
So, I found an old friend through the wonders of Facebook recently. She couldn’t quite believe it was me. She asked “wow, girl! What happened? You look amazing!”
I replied back with a simple smirk on my face that she obviously couldn’t see and said “I lived.”
I’m currently watching a show where a stripper is diagnosed with breast cancer. She has the BRCA gene. In this film, the doctor is removing both breasts; a preventative bilateral mastectomy, in an attempt to prevent the canSer from reoccurring. This isn’t about the BRCA gene or the canSer itself. It is about the girl’s struggle with losing her identity.
I have the BRCA gene. I will most likely opt for the same surgery. But here’s the thing…see, I really don’t think people in general truly understand just how much something as simple and commonplace as what our bodies look like define us as an individual, as a woman, a mother, sister, professional, etc. Even for me, it was (and still sometimes is) a struggle to not be defined by my body parts or my hair.
My things don’t define me as a woman. Even without breasts, make up, hair, a career, whatever…I am still me.
I don’t sit around feeling sorry for myself or looking for pity because of things that are out of my control. But for those things that are in my control, you can bet your pretty chemo scarves that they are gettin’ rocked out. Pretty is what changes, not the woman. Sometimes, it just takes a shitty hand to teach someone that even with that shitty hand, the gambler can still win.
Besides, just because you don’t have boobs anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t jam out with your clam out.
You lived, baby.
So GO LIVE for cryin’ out loud.
Yesterday marked the 10th Anniversary of 9/11
I do this blog every year but this year, I opted to put it up the day AFTER. Simply because we as a country should be reminded of this event every day, not just on September 11 every year.
Most of this post will be videos but I have a few things to say here.
First of all, My heart goes out to anyone and everyone who was affected in one way or another by this event. A dear friend of mine told me “happy 911 day.” He says that because he thinks it’s important to remember how we as a nation set our differences aside and united together to support each other and we do it every year on this day. Democrats, republicans, white black gay straight Christian Muslim we are America.
Next, 2 million of the 9/11 generation were so moved by the events that they joined up. I’m damn proud to have been one of those 2 mil. To my fellow soldiers who have fallen; your sacrifice was not in vain. To those who are still here; keep on keepin on. Drink water, change your socks and drive on. Pain is only weakness leaving the body. I miss being a soldier, even though it was spiritually draining for me.
Finally, They were wives husbands sons daughters brothers sisters cousins nieces nephews fiancées girlfriends boyfriends friends acquaintances employees employers and much more. But most importantly, they were innocent.
WARNING: Some of these videos are graphic, but sometimes, that is what it takes to get attention.
Never Forget.
Hugs and Sunny Surf,
Jessica & Gertrude
So, my video this blog is a bit special. If you don’t know the story, a woman created a website to recognize her friend whom of which passed away from colon canSer. The website is dedicated to letting the special women in your life know they are amazing. Go check it out. Tell a woman that she rocks your life out.
I’ve found myself educating other women on ovarian canSer a lot lately. I mean, A LOT. See, I finally started that whole “cosmetology” school thang I’ve tossed around for several years now. The girls in my class showed quite a bit of interest in the canSer ordeal and I don’t mind telling them. Maybe if someone had talked to me, I wouldn’t have been in the shape I was in. You catchin’ what I’m throwin’ down?
One girl in particular, pulled me aside during a break and wanted to discuss her concerns. I’ve not had this happen before, and to be quite honest, I wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation. On one hand, I don’t want to scare her because it IS actually quite rare for someone her age to have ovarian canSer. On the other hand, it is a very real possibility. So, I decided the best course of action was to tell her that it is rare but if she’s concerned, she should talk to her doctor. That’s when the truth came out.
“I can’t. I don’t have health insurance.”
OH SNAP.
I know her frustration AAAAAALLLLLLLLL too well. That was my initial problem and I ended up misdiagnosed for almost a year by a “community clinic.”
Now, I try to keep politicking out of this blog, but this is one issue that really twists my bra strap. I voted in a way I normally wouldn’t BECAUSE I wanted some sort of health reform that WORKS. I’ve interned with my congressman, (in San Diego) I’ve written letters, protested, you name it. Well, folks, there’s strength in numbers…I TRIPLE DOG DARE you to write your congressmen/senators/mayors/insertelectedofficialhere and plead your case as well. Tell them to hurry up already, quit the partisan bickering and actually DO SOMETHING THAT WORKS for the American peeps. That partisan squabbling over earmarks only separates the people of the U.S. even further and costs Americans way too much time and money that we don’t have right now.
Are ya with me or are ya with me??
While watching some Netflix instant stream the other night, the actors in the film began a discussion about what word is perfect for what city and I thought to myself..Hmm..If I were a city, what city would it be?
I don’t mean what city do I love or the ones I grew up in. Obviously I love San Diego, however, I would not be that city. San Diego would be the easy life, Beautiful, breezy with an attitude streak that caters to laziness. No, San Diegans aren’t lazy, but given the chance, I know that city would totally call in sick to work on any given day that the swell is good.
Then I thought maybe San Francisco.
Full of culture, whimsy, untamed. The right amount of anonymity, however, I’m just not hipster enough. (and probably way too straight for that matter.) It is by far my next most beloved, after San Diego, but it just isn’t the soulful city I would be.
NYC?
Probably not. While it has had it’s fair share of down times that roughened it’s edges, it is too fast paced and way too expensive. But I do know a few folks who would absolutely be an NYC type. Gritty yet refined and hard as diamonds. All without the urine and cigarette smell that float through the dark alleys of other places. The smog probably covers it up. You know, like a perfume…
Then I started thinking…What if I’m a Beaumont, TX type? (or really, any city that no one would probably willingly vacation to unless they grew up there or had family in the area…) You know, small, rural, possibly incredibly redneck yet comfortably cozy in my surroundings?
Yep. Definitely not a Beaumont.
I really think that if I were a city, I’d be Rome.
Yes, I said ROME.
See, Rome has pulled the short straw from the pack more than once. It has been pilfered, destroyed and conquered; yet has always managed to come back to pilfer, destroy and conquer. It is cultured but beautifully rough around the edges. It’s imperfections make it perfect in a surreal sort of way. It has history and sometimes that history is disgusting, beguiling and gruesome yet magnificent, stunning and euphoric all at the same time. Took Rome many hard years to get to where it is today and Rome is very happy just being Rome. Rome is proud of it’s history even the not-so-good parts of said History. Pompeii was a Roman city..
Out of the Ashes…Comes beauty and renewal
I’m a Rome.
What city are you? And why?
Hugs and Sunny Surf,
Jessica & Gertrude
Alright, so before you start saying “But Jess…knitting is boring!”
Let me explain.
First, if it is boring, then you have never tried it.
If tried and still boring, you aren’t part of a FNKC.
Since moving to Texas, I’ve been really perking up. Kinda like a flower after a good rainstorm. The toxic folks are out of my life and I’m a firm believer that for every one who walks out on me, five new, beautiful ones walk in.
I searched out a local yarn store (LYS) and have become quite the regular. Every Friday night, the place fills up with a quite diverse group of women. Cajun creole cuisine is cooked up, yarn is wound into neat little cakes, money is spent and gifts are created.
This past week I parked my lil’ butt in a corner chair. See, if you get there late, all the good, cushy couchy type seats are taken and one gets stuck with a metal folding chair. There’s rarely walking room and the food is always scrumptious.
Sitting in my corner chair, I looked around the room and saw just how diverse this group of women that I am now a part of is. African-American, Caucasian, Hispanic, young, old, middle-aged, you name it, it is represented. Different religions, just everything.
Crazy how something so simple, like KNITTING (gasp!!) can bring together a group of people.
So…
I’ve figured it out.
I know how to bring about world peace.
See, I have this theory; er rather, a couple. (first would be teaching the world to read…literacy brings about knowledge.)
But the second is where the true glory lies…create FNKCs all over the world. People who can come together over something they are peacefully passionate about should be able to get along in other aspects of life. Pretty simple methinks.
(alright alright…so maybe it isn’t REAAAALLYYY that simple…but it’s a nice thought, right?)
So, every Friday, I cruise it on over to my LYS and chill out with my homies. Unconditional acceptance for the tattooed, canSer chica and everyone else there. I know some families who can’t even provide that. (yep. I mean those people…we all know who I’m referring to.)
When I’m not knitting, I’m either geocaching, or spending time with my sweet man. But those are stories for another blog. I must go. Family Guy is on.
oh..really fast…
“Jessica, you just beat a late stage of canSer, what are you gonna do next???” (in funny announcer voice)
“I’M GOING TO DISNEYWORLD!!!!!”
That’s right. DISNEYWORLD! In Orlando!
My bf and I wanted a vacation before I start school back up here soon and this was our place.
Hugs and sunny surf,
Jessica and Gertrude
(hehehe that Disney trip should reaally ruffle some feathers. Also, the photo is from 2007 by Trik Photography.
Hehe..guess what this one is about..
Yep. That pretty much sums up my entire day in one shot. Right there. I should probably end the blog at that point, because it would be kinda funny in my mind, but I have a few other pieces of awesomeness to share.
Found a little surf shop I am now fully prepared to strip and rewax my boards next month.
Sticky Bumps has the most amazing scent. Truly reminds me of the islands and holding the little package to my nose and inhaling deeply just engrained to me that I can be happy outside of Southern California. When some long-haired dude wreaking of that oh so recognizable skunky pot smell came in and told me the water was a “chilling 73 degrees” I got giddy. I don’t think I have EVER surfed in water that warm! WOOT!!! Gotta love lazy surfer dudes who willingly spill info to non-locals and even possibly a Kook.
(although, most surfers would hardly consider a cute girl who knows what she’s doing a kook. I’m just not a local…yet.)
Think this is the new pub spot for Monday nights..
Yes, that is a swim-up bar. However, it wasn’t in use. Who the hell would use a swim-up bar AT THE BEACH??
The drinks were flowin’, the jukebox was jammin’ and the drunks were dancin’. The zombie apocalypse could be knockin’ on my door and I wouldn’t answer.
So, why am I saying all this? Just because one has to be careful doesn’t mean life can’t be lived. Grab a bottle of water, put on some sunscreen, take the top off and live life. No one is gon’ give you permission, so quit waitin’ and get goin’ already.
Gonna go one day anyway,right? So why waste it? Put your toes in the sand, dammit. It feels good. I promise.
A “Psychic” stopped me in the mall yesterday…said she saw positive change coming very soon in my life.
I responded with “Sweet! When am I winning the lottery??”
She smirked.
See, I moved to Houston, Texas about a week ago. Just me, my puppymonster Elvis, and a carful of crap. As much as I could cram in it. (Don’t worry, I remembered to bring mah Cowboy boots, all three ipods and every single ball of yarn I own, just like a good girl would.) I live with my sweet boyfriend and at first, I was a little nervous.
But, here’s what I’m doing to settle in:
I played in the dirt
Those are my Gerbera Daisies. I LOVE them!!! Unfortunately, no green ones though. :/ But I’ve got pink ones!!!
I made tomatoes
that cute little garden also has bell peppers in it and I have radishes, cucumbers and onions planted in the yard. Yum yum!!!
I do a lot of cooking these days and I really enjoy using fresh veggies and fruits in said cooking. So why not be self sustaining and just grow my own?? I’ve always wanted a little garden and my sweet human pet helped me create one. So suck on that, chemo and canSer. I have the garden I wasn’t allowed to do last year. So HA! How do ya like dem apples??? and strawberries and grape tomatoes and cukes??? (isn’t that an icky sounding word?? Cuke?? For some reason, it just creeps me out. Like, you know that weird guy that hits on you six times at the bar, even though you’ve repeatedly pointed out your boyfriend?? The guy that looks like Mr. Clean??? Ya’ll know who I’m talkin bout…creepy like that.)
got mah nails did
My guy likes them all purdied up like this and who am I to stand in the way of that pampering?
I also spent this Friday evening at a local bigname brewpub. I had some chicken and pasta, a black cherry soda, and a lovely refreshing drink called a Sea Breeze that quite possibly became my favorite. On one side of me sat an older gentleman, probably in his 60′s. We had a wonderful conversation. Told him my tale because, let’s face it…it’s a good one and it should be told. On the other side sat two of my guy’s regulars. (Angelman is a bartender.) These two dudes were discussing their latest shred sessions..or so I assume as they were talking about how to hold the guitar for a leftie. (either that or they were throwing up some mad air guitar skillz right there in the restaurant.) I sat and exchanged jokes with all these guys and watched Angelman’s eyes light up with enthusiasm and pride when they all doted on his pretty girlfriend. It was in that very moment where it happened. I realized. Amongst the diverse bar population, on a Friday night, with my boyfriend working, Mr. Clean repeatedly hitting on me, and the to-go version of my favorite soda that I knew. I am happy. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I broke away from the toxicity, followed my heart for once and found my little piece of happy perfection and I refuse to allow anyone or anything take it away from me. Better pry it from my cold, dead hands!
And look! I even found a sexy, handsome angel sleeping in my bed! And to think I wasn’t even looking!!
Always nice to wake up next to an angel and good things truly come to those who wait. (or, just go through a lot of bad crap so they MAKE good stuff happen…just sayn.)
Hugs and Sunny Surf,
Jessica & Gertrude
