1 month later...

Exactly 1 month ago I wrote my last blog post about the hooker who wanted my husbands attention.  Well it seems fitting that since I had another run in with her today at the pool I share it with my dear friends.

D & I decided it would be nice to  have a relaxing day by the pool.  5 minutes after getting there Donald rolls over and said "Here comes your friend".  In comes the Kim Kardashian look a like who will from now on only be referred to as "the stripper".  She is again not wearing enough clothing, inappropriate shoes, but this I have come to expect from her.  We can immediately tell that she has been drinking.  It is obvious from her facial expressions and her incoherent speech.  She hasn't even made it to her seat yet and she is screaming at another pool patron.  Every other word is F**k this and F**k that.  The stripper continues to yell about her clothing and that she didn't need to impress this girl.  It was a fantastic fight that kept us all entertained.  Finally the stripper struts to her seat where she begins her playboy moves to get everyones attention.  She continues to refill that tell-tell red cup and she just gets drunker.  She sits near a few older women who are able to calm her down.... for awhile.

Nearly an hour later as D & I were considering leaving.  I look over and she has straddled her boyfriend.  All the parents at the pool are visibly upset.  The fondling and the touching continues...  They then get in the pool. Most people have to pay for porn like this, but it was free to all involved.  12-13 year old boys are lining up to watch.  Parents are pulling there kids out of the pool.  Finally someone calls and notifies our apartment complex.  

15 minutes later an official Bigelow Commons pool monitor appears and begins checking pool passes.  In an effort to keep the hood rats that live next to us from invading our pools you are required to get a pool pass proving you live there.  Its usually not a very big deal, but its there way of kicking someone out of the pool.  Finally the pool monitor makes it over to the stripper and all hell breaks loose.  They don't have a pool pass and are told they have to leave.  She absolutely looses it and starts screaming "F**k you, white trash whore.  Are you saying I don't make enough money to use the pool?  I pay 1300 dollars a month to live here,  Do you know how much money I have? Do you want to see my paycheck?  Do you know what kind of car I drive"

Pause for Jessa's thoughts.... What does having alot of money have to do with not having to follow the rules?  Truthfully they were just looking for a reason to throw her out.  She looked like a tramp, she was having sex with her boyfriend by the pool, they just wanted her out.  But nothing makes you want to feel bad for someone who uses their money to justify bad behavior....

Ok back to the story...

The screaming continues.  The pool attendant is telling them that they have to leave.  The boyfriend is grabbing his stuff, but the stripper isn't standing for it.  She continues her screaming and the fight has escalated.  Two more girls have jumped in to try to talk her down.  Next thing we see the stripper has thrown her drink in the face of the pool attendant.  Her boyfriend has completely left her standing there. As he is leaving a big guy jumps in and tells him that he has to get his girl out of there. The boyfriend tackles, grabs the stripper, and carries her out kicking & screaming.  Her feet literally don't touch the feet.  If she could have I think she would have murdered that poor pool attendant.  The man sitting next to us calls the cops.  They had all been mouthing that someone needed to, but by the time she began assaulting the pool attendant he finally stepped up. We finally left as 2 cops were entering her apartment hopefully to take her to the loony bin.   I think it is probably safe to assume that by next week she will no longer be a Bigelow resident.


Which will make Donald and I sad since we will loose our entertainment.
Never a dull moment...

You probably think you're cooler than me...

I can't always be nice.  It is possible to actually make me mad.  It takes a lot but it isn't a pretty sight.

 Last night Donald and I enjoyed a wonderful evening relaxing by the pool... or at least that was the plan.  We get down there and the first thing I notice is this Kim Kardashian wanna-be.  She is decked out to the T.  Perfectly tan skin, she is wearing a one piece bathing suit with cut outs guaranteeing it shows way more than any two piece I have ever warn in my life.  Every move she makes is a perfectly calculated maneuver to show as much skin as possible.  She is wearing heels to the pool.  But lets give her the benefit of the doubt.   I'm sure that was just a coincidence.  3 inch stilettos were the only appropriate footwear she could find.

As time continues it becomes more and more obnoxious.  She has the attention of every person at the pool... except Donald.  I would like to say its because he is so perfect that he would never faultier but truth is he has been lost in a bubble breaker game for the last week.  I could have been hit by a bus and he wouldn't even notice.  But today it probably saved his life today.   She was boy who is just fanning over her, but she keeps looking over at D and I.  Finally she bends over to take her shoes off.  And does what I can imagine to be her best playboy pose... problem is she is about 3 inches from my husbands face.

I'm not particularly proud of what happened next and if you could not tell my grandmother that would be awesome.  I want her to go on believing I am the good southern girl she raised me to be.  But I pulled out a move that was straight out of a movie... it looked a lot like this.

That's actually not true.  I didn't  tackle the girl just yet...  I let the pain continue.
As she is walking by us to get to the pool she tells her love interest of the moment that "I just couldn't wear a bikini today, I am just too fat."  Then with a side glance at me she adds that "not everyone knows when they shouldn't be wearing something".

I really regret not tackling her at that exact moment but instead I grabbed my stuff and retreated inside.

So here is what I should have said...
I go on telling myself after hours in the gym, I can look like that.
After hours in a tanning bed (and lots of skin cancer), I can look like you.
I can get my boobs redone every 2 years, to look like you.
But you will always be a hateful b***h.  No surgery will fix that.
And my guess that whatever "wonderful" man gets "lucky" enough to be with you, will leave you as soon as you start looking old.  And then, I will be laughing.

So I will wish the years to speed up for her, lots of fat cells, cellulite, and stretch marks.  It couldn't happen to a more deserving person.

Divorce Court...

Maybe its lame but I have a secret love affair with watching Divorce Court.  It makes me feel better about my life. I rarely actually catch it on tv but today I happened to be home to see it. 

Best part of my day....

A couple was getting divorced.   The lady comes before the judge laying out her case.  Her chief complaint against her "husband"? "He bought a truck I can't drive.  I don't know how to drive a standard".  Call me crazy but this seems like a really bad reason to call off a marriage.  Brilliant idea:  LEARN TO DRIVE A STANDARD... or..... BUY A NEW VEHICLE!

Wow.  Common Sense is a rare commodity. 

Open Ended Letter...

Dear Arkansas Rural Endowment Fund,
Please jump in a creek. I continue to find dealing with you to be a real pain in the rear.  Today I received the first statement from you in months.  It came on the same day as a a nasty gram stating I wasn't paying my bills.  How do you expect me to pay a bill when you don't send it to me until it is passed due?  You are absolutely ridiculous.   I can't wait to pay you off so you can torture someone else.
Thats all.

lacking

If you are one of the 5 people who reads my blog you are probably expecting something witty, funny, or intelligent.  
Well this has been a week of extreme frustration, confusion and bitterness so I am  lacking in the humor department.  So instead I will only post something I read today that made me feel a little bit better.  




"You may be experiencing disappointment, frustration, or anger but you always have a choice. The only real healing and comfort you’re going to get is by looking to the Lord and trusting Him with your situation, painful as it is."




So there you have it.  Sorry for the lack of wit.  Come back next week.  I'll think of something funny or at least look up a knock knock joke. 

I'm not just lucky I'm blessed....

"I am not wealthy enough..."

Did you know?

• If you make more than $2 a day you are among the top income earners on the planet
• If you own a car, you are among the 3% in the world who do.
• If you earn $37,000 a year you are in the top 4% of the wealthiest people in the world.
• If you make $45,000 a year you are in the top 1% of the wealthiest people in the world.

Finances seem to be a topic that have been haunting me lately.  There have been alot of tough decisions D & I have been struggling with in this area.  It is easy to get discouraged.  We live in one of the richest states in the US.  I am consistantly sorrounded by other peoples material wealth and truthfully I get jealous.  I don't drive a new BMW, I don't own a house, and my furniture doesn't match.  My prayers over this part of my life had begun to get frantic. 

Sunday at church the message was life altering.  I don't usually make such a bold statement but it was truly an answer to my prayers.  The whole message was about giving.  The statement was made that we to often think "I'm not wealthy enough to give".   I very quickly realized that I needed a paradim shift.  I not only own a car, I have 2 cars.  I make way more than $2 a day. By worldly standards I am one of the wealthiest people in the world. 

All the sudden I am very calm.  So what if we need to sell one of our cars?  We still have one.  So what if my furniture doesn't match.  So what if we had to cut back on our cable.  I don't know the numbers on cable but I bet the starving kids in Africa don't have 250 channels.   I am blessed to have these kinds of problems.  These are rich people problems. 

A Year in the Making....

I have really fallen down on my blogging duties.  My only excuse?   I have had the bubonic plague for the last week and a half.  It should be noted that I am a horrible patient.  I am miserable and whiny.  I make little noises and cry.  And I get extremely lazy.  The only positive to this whole sickness is to see how D has handled it.  The first 3 days when I ran an insane temp he made multiple runs to CVS to get the appropriate meds.  He provided at least 2 meals a day.  By day 4, I was experiencing problems breathing.  A cough combined with asthma doesn't usually equal good health.  The feeling of not being able to breath then triggered a panic attack which compounded the situation.  D sat up all night to make sure I kept breathing.  The genuine concern he showed was impressive.  In addition he has cleaned, done laundry, and taken on all the responsibilities I usually handle. He has stepped up to the plate in a huge way.  I am slowly recovering.  I would say the Health-o-meter is at about 75%.

The other thing that sucks about being sick?  Its expensive.  Between a trip to the doctor, 3 prescriptions, and about 5 over the counter meds. Not to mention the amount of takeout that was ordered because I couldn't make myself cook.

Friday marked the 1 year anniversary of D & I's engagement.  It is amazing to look at how much has changed in just a year.  We have turned our lives upside down then tried to straighten them both out.  I won't say we have it all down just yet.  We seem to keep hitting some stumbling blocks.  As of now there really isn't any end in sight.  We are in a time of uncertainty as to how things are going to turn out.  But I'm  excited.  There is enough uncertainly to leave me terrified, but then enough clarity to remind me that God has it under control.
" For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."


I'm super proud of my husband.  He is out making things happen with his career.  He has taken advantage of some great opportunities and is in the process of making big things happen.  Sometimes I sit in amazement.  He has such a bright future.  I don't think he can always see it but there are big things coming for him. 


In this relationship, my role is to worry.  I am the one who stays up at night worrying it won't all work out the way we need it to.  Donald is the trusting one.  He trusts it to all will work out.  I need to be more like him.  


I find that I have to daily remind myself that Peter walked on water.  And he only started to sink when his faith failed.  Walking on water was an impossible task, but one he was able to do while he was faithful.  My life is much like that.  It may seem impossible but with Gods help it will happen as long as I believe.

There you have it.  That is what is going on with the "Connecticut Staves".  Well at least that is the version told by Jessa & Cough Syrup.  A fantastic combination.
I will leave you with a picture from my birthday.  Perfect Day.

The Toxic Prayers of a Mother...

For whatever reason I have been thinking a lot about prayer.  It seems like a lot of people have called me recently with prayer request, or calling to tell me that they are praying for me.  Today after a prayer request from a dear friend I got to thinking about this whole prayer business. Like most things in my brain I lack logic and sometimes intelligence.

Disclaimer:  This is not intended to be a great Philosophical debate on the power of prayer.  I have absolutely nothing to back any of this up so take it as what it is, my random thoughts. 

My Mother can kill anything through the power of prayer.  This is a true statement.  If you want your life turned upside down, ask her to pray for you.  I learned this very hard lesson in college.  I had a boyfriend I really thought I was going to marry.  One day I get an out of the blue call from my mom telling me,  "I'm going to pray for your relationship".  Two days later.... I get dumped.  No lie.  No Exaggeration.  The "perfect" relationship crumbles at my feet.  At the time I couldn't understand what I did wrong, but looking back I realize this was entirely my mothers fault.  This becomes a repeating cycle.  The older I get the quicker she starts praying for these potential son in laws.  Without fail she will start praying for them on a Friday, I am single by a Monday.  Once I learned of her "toxic prayer" power I started using it to my advantage.  If a boy asked me out, and I didn't like him,  I would call and ask her to pray for it.  There was usually not a second date.  It would be over by the next day.  

This leads me to wonder why are her prayers so insanely powerful?  I find myself having to shot block her prayers.  If you don't get this reference you obviously need to read Jon Acuff.   This gets to be exhausting because I don't always know what she is praying for.  I have to try to guess her motives.  Is it unfair to throw out a blanket "Please ignore my mothers request"? Because I bet she prays for my cousin who is fighting cancer.  Lord knows I don't want to block those prayers.  But is she praying for my career?  Better set up the shot block to keep me from getting fired, or transferred to Connecticut!!!  But even with the perfected shot block she can still bring about some huge life changes.  

How is it that if our prayers seem to offset each other hers seem to get answered. Why is this?  Maybe it is because she has really perfected the art of prayer.  She has a direct line with God.  Somehow her download speed is faster than mine.  Is it because she has been doing this longer?  While technically I have been praying for around 25 years it is only in the last 5-6  years, I stopped praying for pointless things.  I spent a lot of time growing up praying for a New Barbie House that never came or that the Cool Girls would be my friends.  I guess God answered that one because my definition of cool changed.  So maybe I haven't yet caught up to her level of spirituality.  

How does God decide which of our prayers to answer?  Is it a quantity thing?  Maybe she says 6 short prayers a day but I sit down and pray for a longer amount of time.  But God only sees it as me praying once so she wins.  Is there actually a winner at prayer?  Or maybe it's quality over quantity.  Maybe she prays for a long amount of time but mine are shorter so therefore hers wins again.  I imagine there is some sort of tally system used, but that is just me.  St Peter has to have a job other than just welcoming people into heaven.  At nights he is a prayer counter.

It is also possible that my mom is in fact a super hero.  Her super power is getting her way.  She has always been able to convince me to do about anything, I am unable to stand my ground.  But it appears to go even  further than that.  She can mind warp the universe to make things fall in her favor.  That is a pretty cool power.  You could get anything you wanted! I am jealous.   Maybe it is genetic?

Whatever it is, I am glad for her toxic prayers.  5 years after she ruins my life I am able to look back and be glad she did it.  If those relationships had worked out I wouldn't have met Donald.  I still haven't seen the wisdom in moving to Connecticut but I'm sure there is one.  She always seems to know best.  I guess in a way God answers both our prayers even when the conflict... he just seems to like her more.

But don't worry,  I am getting my own revenge.  Each night and each morning, I pray for her too. Take that Mom!

Word Vomit: When you open your mouth and words just come out.

I have never really been able to think well on my feet.  I constantly find myself in somewhat awkward situations and I can't think of the right thing to say.  So I open my mouth and something comes out.  I wish I could say it was witty yet intelligent the type of thing that leaves you thinking I'm so smart.  But that is just not the case.

In college while walking across campus, I encountered an attractive tall man.  As I was admiring his physical appearance he caught me staring.  When someone catches you staring at them, there is an awkward moment in which you have to say or do something.  My head kept saying "mouth say something... say something... you have to say SOMETHING!" The problem is that my brain didn't give my mouth the words to say.  So when I opened my mouth I had to improvise.  The highly intelligent thing that came out of my mouth was "Well your abnormally tall aren't ya." Exactly what I was going for.  I'm sure he walked away from that encounter thinking, that girl was witty and funny.  I should look that girl up.

Flash forward 4 years:

Tonight while sitting on the couch, my brain was overwhelmed and wanted me to tell my husband how amazing I thought he was.  It once again did not send the words to my mouth to get the thought across.  Insert Word Vomit Here....   I ended up saying " I love you more than fish sticks".  This would be a logical thing to say if I really liked fish sticks or really hated my husband but neither of those are true.  I truly have no real opinion about fish sticks.  I don't like them, I don't hate them.  I actually forget they exist.  So congrats husband.  I love you more than something I forget exists.  So much for that romantic moment.

I wish my brain would send the words to my mouth. Obviously my mouth can not be trusted to say anything.  My mouth is like a drunk who has the right to remain silent but no longer has the ability.

I'm half way to crazy, and not far from sane

Winter is depressing. 

Growing up my dad always got sad during the winter months.  From about December to March he was a little more cranky and much less talkative.  I learned early on that that was Daddy's "quiet time".

Like father like daughter.  I am not a happy camper during winter.  I am cranky, moody and spiteful. 
And that is all before I get out of bed.   I have not worked a full week since Christmas.  There has been over a foot of snow per week every week since Christmas. We are sitting at 57 inches.  There is no where for it to go.  So it just sits there.  They scrap it into big ugly brown piles.  We now have so much that they are loading it into dump trucks and exporting the snow.  Yes.  We are sending it to places with less snow. 
Snow is not beautiful.  It is not magical.  It is ugly.

There is no way it will melt before August.  I will be laying by the pool next to huge piles of snow.  Fact.

You may think, Jessa you are just wining.  That is not true. I have taken action. I am purposely trying to make the snow feel unwelcome until it runs home crying.  This is an attack on many levels.

1. I had a long hard talk with the snow as I shoveled my car out of the snow for the 567243059872345 th time this month.  But it did not come around to my way of thinking so I kicked it.  Unfortunately snow is a wimp and does fight like a man.  It moved and my foot hit my car.  But it was scared.  I could feel its fear. 
2. I stand outside and scream profanity at the sky as the snow comes down. 
3. I talk very loudly about how the sun is a much better friend. I constantly compare it to the sun.  I say things like "The sun never would make me go to such efforts to get to my car".

And if that little ground hog sees his shadow, it is going to be ground hog stew for dinner at my house because that little guy is not gonna make it through the night.   6 more weeks of winter is UNACCEPTABLE!

This is a story about a shirt...

There is a shirt that hangs in my closet.  It doesn't belong to me, but it has hung there everyday for the last 15 years.  It has lived in 3 houses, 4 dorm rooms, and 2 apartments. It graduated high school with me, it went to college with me, it was there when I started my first job.  It has been through more boyfriends than I care to remember. It was there when I got married.  It will still be there when I have babies. It will probably even be there when they go to college.

It's a 1980s western style brown stripped pearl snapped shirt. You will never catch me wearing it in public.  It wouldn't match and its much to big.  But sometimes when I'm home alone, I take it out and slip it on. The shirt is magic. Somehow I can breath a little easier and walk a little taller.  I become a little girl again, eating popcorn and watching Animal Shows. 

Someday when I am very old, I will see the owner of the shirt. I know that when I walk up to those big pearly gates he's gonna be sitting in a lawn chair with his whittling stick. 

But until then, I will just wear the shirt and remember.

Normal is broke. So I think weird is a compliment!

As it turns out I am in fact my grandmothers child.  Growing up my mother was concerned as it seemed I adopted none of the homemaker genes.  I had no interest in cooking, cleaning, sewing, gardening.  To me that stuff was stuff I did when I was forced.  It seems that living on my own and then getting married has flipped a switch.  Maybe you don't adopt those skills until they are needed.

Hubs and I are working the Dave Ramsey plan to pay off our debts.  But in order to have more money to throw at the debt snowball we have started trying to save in other areas. My focus has been the grocery budget I can tell he thinks I am taking it to an extreme but it has become a sport to me.  Each weekend I sit down with the weekly circular for 3 different grocery store looking for the best deals.  I plan my meals around what is on sale.  And what isn't on sale I shop around to find the best possible price.  I realize this is weird.  But I can't explain the thrill I get from walking out of stop & shop having spent less than $20 and having gotten $50 worth of groceries.  It feels like I am getting away with something!   It's a rush.  You should try it.  I haven't really even gotten into coupons yet.  That is my next step.  

I think if I make it back to a place I can grow food to lower my food bill even more, my husband won't even know what hit him.  Poor kid! 

Cutting down our expenses also means we don't get to go out to eat as much.  I actually love this! 

It gives me more opportunities to cook.  

My crock pot has become my new best friend.  I use it probably 3 times a week.  Taco soup, Chili, Beans,  Stew, and Chicken.  Yum Yum!

This week I discovered how to cook a whole chicken in the crock pot  on this blog.   This is my new favorite thing.  I have always used frozen Tyson's chicken breasts.  But I was paying nearly $11 for a 2 lb bag!   The cost per unit on that was horrible!  I discovered I could get a 7 lb chicken for $ 0.99 a lb.  

It lasted for 3 meals.   The first day we had chicken with veggies.  The next day we had chicken sandwiches , then on the third day I baked the rest into a chicken and rice casserole.  It also let me make my own chicken broth that I will be making chicken noodle soup with later.  

Before I sign off I want to give you a link to the  Simple Dollar.  This blog has inspired me!

Oh and I think you need some pictures!

My grandmother.  I hope someday to be as thrifty as she is.  

 My crock pot chicken. So yummy!

Did I mention I am now making my own bread?