Last Post of November...

'Cause it's time to start anew.
I guess it's a little too early to be making New Year's resolutions... but it's never too late. So yeah, here's hopefully to a happier, healthier and more responsible me... Here's to better luck on the roads... Here's to me getting my fabulous car back sometime before February 1st... yikes.
On that note, cause bear with me and I will tell you why this is related, I will be going on a date with Mr. No Personality tonight. I'm trying to make it quick and painless and my suggestion was to go to this Steakhouse not too far from my place. I figured, after dinner I could always say that I have tons of work to do due to my upcoming grad school deadlines... which is true! I just don't want to sit through an awkward, uncomfortable dinner, even if he is paying for me.
I am probably just a tad desperate to get out of my house and have a guy drive me places, since my pimpmobile is out of commission for a while. But you know what? I am so glad I am living so close to Center City, cause I have a friend or two (ahem Facebook Stalker ahem) that are living there and if they ever want to hang out (ahem sometime next week ahem) I could always catch a cab for a relatively cheap fare.
So, things aren't that bad and I think soon enough, I will see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The glass is half-full, bitches,

-Jess

Quiet time alone...

Somewhere, in that moment of truth – the one where you begin to recognize the universe from under your blankets – somewhere in there, lies what makes thinking worth it. Somewhere deep down, we really don’t want to understand. It’s all confusing and a mess. Who really wants to deal the deluge that’s to come when you break open the damn of pondering? But without it, there’s nothing to know and nothing to excite, so we go on and try to cope with it anyway.

Somewhere in there is my answer. Somewhere in myself, deep under my own blankets, surrounded by nothing but the universe, with unending possibilities, is myself. Me. Simple, little me. And I stand before the judges, naked, but knowledgeable. And I stand proud - not of what I have done, but of who I am. For I may have made a long list of mistakes, but I’m still standing and still learning. I am the survivor. I’m trying at least.

So while none of this may make any sense to anybody anywhere, know that somewhere, hope exists. Somewhere in this universe.

Happy Holidays.

Joanna.

This is going to be such a lame post, but I don’t care….

I need to get this out.

I miss my dad. Holidays are a time when we should all be happy, but it is so hard when you miss someone who will never come home. It’s hard to be happy when you’ve spent what feels like a lifetime trying to shove potential lovers into a role they can’t fill. Trying to find someone to take care of you. Someone who will heal every hurt. Someone who will be there, all the time…every time.

So, please, excuse me while I’m emo for a while – and please, don’t mind me as I hide my feelings behind parties and nightly outings – it’s all a lie, to keep you from seeing my eyeliner run…

Forlorn, but not forgotten…

…Joanna.

Dilemma

So, this weekend I got asked on like a million dates by a few of the semi-douchey men I happen to be acquantances with. Whatever. I had to pick the lesser of the evils and I am pretty sure I will be going to a downtown restaurant, one of my favorites, this Friday. But then again, there is just so much work and partying to do that I might have to reschedule the date. Again.
To me right now, it's not about dating or getting my dinners paid for. Right now, it is all about the thrill of the game. And after I get what I want, I seem to no longer be as interested any more. When they call my cell the next day, I had already moved onto another hor d’oeuvre.
LIke yesterday, at Jay-Z's party, I noticed this insanely cute guy hanging around the bar. Such eye candy! We were too far away from each other for me to even attempt making serious eye contact, but just the fact that he was there in all his gorgeousness made me feel so grateful that I am single.
So I guess, in lieu of complaining how I won't be getting any diamonds from a special man these holidays, I will, instead, be grateful for having the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever the hell I want.

Happy Thanksgiving,

-Jess

Couldn't Have Put It Any Better...

I can summarize tonight by stating the following...
Get buzzed
Get drunk
Get crunk
Get fuuuuuuuuuuucked up

Peace out,

-Jess

The Douchebag Wake-Up Call

To Jess - I'm so sorry about your Saturday night - and I wish I had seen the massacre of the single scene that apparently showed itself to you last night.

But no - instead, I was a bad Playette and was going to spend my night in, when, to my surprise, a good friend of mine, C (yes, I stole the idea from Jess, get over yourselves!) - well, she calls me and invites me to join her in some very VIP box seats for a Hockey game! Can you believe it?! The box was probably shared with like 20 or some odd people and we had our OWN bar!!! And I ate sushi!! SUSHI at a hockey game VIP box seat! I felt like royalty.

But the end night soon ended and I was home by 11. I went online for a while and did some chatting. I started falling asleep at the keys and being that I had Sunday school in the morning, I went to bed. But no - the nightmare never ends!! I was so rudely awakened by a text message from Mr. Miserable professing how much he misses me! I mean, come on!!! Please!!!

What a day for that to happen! I had been missing my romantic situation all day, when this tragedy strikes! Needless to say, I shouted, "leave me alone!" to the darkness and cried myself to sleep. Not because I miss him, but because I know it'll be years until I find someone with whom I can have that kind of comfortable relationship.

Today, though, has been better!

Till next time - don't be playette hatin'!

Joanna

Freakshow

I was out on the town last night with my friend G and we were on the prowl for some quality men that would spend their time and money on us.
WELL.
We were soon in for a rude awakening that apparently we didn't get the memo that last night was the night when all the freaks came out to play. On the dance floor, these weird guys kept dancing with us, and every guy was weirder and uglier than the previous. G totally summed up the whole night by saying, "I literally could NOT stop laughing the whole time we were dancing."
Amen, sister.
It's not to say we didn't have an awesome time, because we always do. But oh Lordy, where do these freaks come from?! There was a group of men who looked like they haven't shaved or bathed in months, so we called them Cavemen. One of tried dancing with me at one point and I just gave him the Don't-You_Dare-Touch-Me-Or-I-Will-Kill-You look. He quickly got the point.
There was another guy who I thought was sort of cute in the beginning, but then he began freaking everyone and their mother out with these crazy outlandish moves. And that's when I realized that he was none other than a dellisional white boy. I had to get away.
Finally there was this really wasted guy in a pink shirt, who was already trashed when we got there at 10pm. Well, his drunkenness continued through the night and finally he was so gone he began stripping on the dance floor and every time we looked at him he would be wearing one less article of clothing. The Stripper, as I will call him, took up one third of the dance floor because, for obvious reasons, not a lot of people wanted to be around a semi-naked man. And his friends just thought it would be HILLARIOUS to keep feeding him drinks. Bad idea, Stripper's friends, very bad idea.
But now it's Sunday and I'm trying to do some work... but really, I am already thinking about Wednesday so Joanna and I could go to Heaven.

Until next time, don't let the Gray Goose get you too loose,

-Jess

The Mental Divorcee

So today, while on my way to the bank with my mind on my money and my money on my mind, I came to the realization that I have been trying to make Mr. Anonymous into a substitute for the intimacy of Mr. Miserable. Which simply makes me the most pathetic person you'll ever know.

The thing is, Mr. Miserable and I had years under our belt and an intimacy and repertoire that reflected that. Mr. Anonymous and I have known each other for a month - maybe month and a half now. A more appropriate name would probably be Mr. Rebound, because that is obviously what I'm doing. That is not to say I don't like him or enjoy his company, but I can't keep shoving square pegs into round holes (a phrase I've become all too well acquainted with).

So now, here I am, 22 years old and feeling like I have just come out of a horrible, bitter divorce. It hurts. I won't lie. I had to do it, there's no question, but my God, does it really have to hurt this bad? Do I really have to feel so lonely when I have no one to call at the end of the day just to say goodnight?

I know it will have to be years until I ever find that again, because it took me years to find that, but I just have to keep hoping that someday, somewhere, somehow I will find that again - and next time, it will be the way it should have been all along.

Growing up and moving on,

Joanna

Heaven 2.0

So if it wasn't enough that we tore the roof off in Heaven on Wednesday with our insane partying... we're going back there tonight for the second dose of the best bar this side of Atlantic Ocean!

I wish this week had never happend

You want to take it back? Take it back!
You want to slow it down? Slow it down!
You were the one with the idea. We never should have questioned a thing.

Sometimes it's better to leave things as they are.

Thank God that week is over. Let's start a new one...now.