Friday, June 26, 2009

On another note....... feet are so stinky. They say everyone can handle the smell of their own odor, but that is NOT the case. My feet smell like a mixture of an old folks home, frito pie and sausage. I really don't know what to do. I have tried EVERYTHING.

I've put babypowder in my shoes, rubbed deodorant on my feet (warning don't try to use the same deodorant that you use for your arms on your feet...hindsight is 20/20), foot scrubs, masks and even sang to them....nothing works.

I have tried to hide this travesty from my boyfriend with little success. Blaming it on his kids worked for a while, but not so much when the smell still exsist and they are 5 miles away at their mom's house. He caught me red handed the other day fully dressed with my feet in the sink trying to use kandoo hand soap to quickly wash away the stentch. Needless to say, I need a solution.

Got any ideas????


I've been thinking a lot today about the concept of remembering someone once they are out of your life. When no more memories can be created and all you have left to cling to is the past; what do you choose to remember and what do you choose to forget? Do the memories you hold onto define the person you are recollecting or do they define who you really are?

Forget turning on a radio, television or pulling up an Internet site without finding the story on Michael Jackson. I have rolled my eyes over and over again today as I've heard person after person 'honor' the memory of Michael Jackson. As I listened to the radio d.j. on my lunch break, weep about the legacy of M.J. and the tragedy of his death, I nearly threw up in my mouth.

I boiled as I thought how screwed up it is to live in a World that cries over the loss of a child molester all because we love singing "Billy Jean" at the top of our drunken lungs at wedding receptions and tacky 80's dance clubs. Do these D.J.'s and country bumpkin callers from Wylie,Texas even know the affects his selfishness and sickness will have indefinitely on those children's lives? Maybe because I've seen the results of child molestation I am more sensitive but, does it seem fair that we praise his life and yet shun a President that didn't lead a nation up to 'our standards'? How is it that society can remember only the good and forget all the terrible actions for some people and not for others? It made me sick, disgusted and left me feeling sorry for those simple-minded people who lacked intelligence. Then it hit me....I'm the one who is wrong. I am the one with the ugly heart.

Here I am, expecting you all to look at the good in me and not to remember my faults. To stand up for me and attack those who attack me......"Poor, pitiful Jennifer. Just trying to tell her story but, is constantly hounded by these hurtful people who are cruel and mean"..

How am I being any different with Michael Jackson? None of us deserve Grace from God, but guess what??? He gives it to us anyways!! Calming down, taking a breath and giving a little grace is the right thing to do, especially from a person who is constantly asking for grace to be extended. I think when we realize that we are not the judge, our lives become a lot easier.

People come in and out of our lives everyday. We lose loved ones we never thought we would lose and we gain people, we never thought we would gain. But, what we choose to remember about someone doesn't define defines US.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Casting out Stones

Have you ever read the story of the woman caught in adultery in the bible? Although I've heard it a thousand times, I’m not sure if I ever implanted myself in that story – who would I be in this scenario? Am I the woman about to be stoned or the Pharisee about to exercise the law over someone’s choices, or am I Jesus who sees both the Pharisee and the woman as equals?

There have been plenty of times when I have been the adulterer. My inappropriate behavior(example whispering "that's what she said" repeatedly through a Sunday Sermon)has made me the the subject of public shaming. My faults in my divorce lead me to this as well.

A few months after the divorced, I started dating Mark. He made me feel giddy and I liked him almost instantly. Shortly after Mark and I started dating, I received a phone call laced with uneasyness from him. Prestonwood, a church I had once called home, had contacted Mark to warn him of the dangers of Satan's mistress a.k.a. ME. I was humilitated. They bashed me and shamed me to a man I barely knew. The pastor did not literally try to kill me, but he tried to kill my reputation and sense of worth by casting stone after stone through the phone as he spoke to my recent beau. He told all of my sin all the while failing to see the sin he was doing in that exact moment. He had become the Pharisee.

When we become the Pharisee in the story,it becomes so easy to go from questioning the adulterer's behavior to actually hating, demeaning them, throwing them out in the dust and gathering up stones to kill them. I, too have been guilty of becoming the Pharisee in past situations. I have looked down to see rocks in my own hands.

When we become the Pharisee, we look down at the adulterer and see their salvation hanging in the balance of our own determination, as if somehow we make the call. When we start to think that way, "Salvation" depends not upon Christ's perfection and obedience, but on some strange set of rules combined from your upbringing and proof-texting.

If my salvation was based on works, I would be doomed to an eternity apart from my savior. You would be too. As Christians we have freedom in Christ. No, not freedom to act like heathens and sin openly without accord. But, rather a freedom to know that when we fail (which will happen everyday) God will not throw us out like a baby with the bath water. The failure to remember that God’s pleasure in us comes outside of us (in Christ) causes the heart to forget that God sings over us because of the work He has done, not because of what we have done (Zeph. 3:15-17).

Preacher, Tim Keller said, "You are more wicked than you ever imagined and more loved and accepted than you ever hoped--that is the gospel".

Monday, June 22, 2009

I Have a Knight in Shining Armor

It's so reassuring to know you have people pulling for you. Someone who will always have your back and take your pain as their own. Mark defended me on his blog. Check it out:

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I've Been Robbed!!!

Feminatizs broke into my apartment last night, stealing my tv, ipod, laptop and Alanis Morsette CD! No, I'm just kidding about it being a feminist, but seriously I hypothesis stands correct....I DO live in the Ghetto.

I was burglarized last night and traumatized (I'm sure my haters are thinking this is karma), however I truly thank the Lord that he protected me last night...and made me smart enough to sign up for renter's insurance last month.

Violated does not begin to describe it....add hurt, humilated, terrified and terrorized to the list. Growing up in a town where locking your front door is optional really had me dense about reality. I can't even go back to the apartment. I know I have to eventually, but it's completely ransacked.

Needless to say, I will be moving out of the apartment indefiniately at the end of the month and will be shackin up until then.

CSI came out to my place, which was stellar but it was nothing like the t.v. show. They didn't appriciate my references to the show either. Please keep me in your thoughts this week as I rummage through my remains and file claims for the insurance and police department.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Serving my Man a Beer in my bikini whilst he watches ESPN.

In response to the annoymous comment

Why no signature on the comment? Not to say I don't understand what you are saying, but anonymity is a bit cowardly. Based upon your examples, LV purse, trips, restaurants, gift etc. you possess a real or 'perceived' view of me. My definition of chivarly does not necessarily equate with money spent. Now, am I fortunate in that area? Yes, but do I demand it? No. Do I appriciate it? Yes.

How do you make the leap from: 1.) feminism kills gender roles and chivarly (my blog's point), to 2.)I'm spoiled because I was fortunate enough to have a great home life and now have a man who has the desire and ability to treat me well? Chivarly does not equal money spent. Chivarly, in the back drop of traditional gender roles, means a man is free to express the definition as defined in the dictionary, "bravery, nobleness, courtesy and respect for women". This is what my blog was about. My point is, feminism kills that. Feminism does not allow a man to be brave in a relationship.

Listen, I have hours towards a Master's degree, a successful and very well paying job, yet when my man opens a door for me, I don't kick him in the crotch and say, "Do you know who I am? I run payroll for an entire company for goodness sake. I'll open my own damn door, thank you". I allow a man to be a man and I am grateful for those roles. According to my boyfriend (interesting side note) men are ecstatic to be allowed to be a man.

Am I spoiled...yes, good observation. My point is valid and has nothing to do with how much a man spends on a woman. Feminist are fighting a battle that shouldn't be fought. They are emasculating men and ruining it for single women everywhere.

Do I truly think all feminists are ugly? No, but if you are a regualar reader of my blog, you will know the extent of my sarcasm....and the size of my head.

In the Bible, submission to your husband does not mean weakness, nor does it mean powerlessness. In fact, it does not mean inability. Submission is God's acknowledgement that there is an order to the universe that when followed perpetuates success. Submission is a choice.

I was previously married with an attitude of independence. We all see how that turned out. I am learning that when you let a man be a man, they can do a pretty good job.

To my annoymous reader, reveal yourself and I'll take you to the next Louis Vuitton trunk show at Neimans, where we can sip on mimosas and talk about this futher...all on my man's credit card..mind you. :)

Friday, June 12, 2009

Feminist are Ugly

There I said it. I'm sure I'll have a group of irate butchish women picketing outside my house (go for it you'd last 5 minutes in my ghetto neighborhood) but it's true. 95% of feminist I have come into contact with has been completely unattractive--stringy haired, over-weight, bad skin, and border-line unacceptable hygiene. Hence, they become a feminist. My theory is women who can't get love from a man or didn't get enough from their daddy become feminist and now their screwing it up for the rest of us. (Listen, you gotta let go of the fact that you weren't nominated for homecoming court and we were).

The feminist movement is a complete disaster for the male/female relationship. The gender roles have gotten so screwed up and contorted men don't know how to act like men and women don't know how to act like women. This is why we have straight men who are 'prettier' than I am. I mean what the hell, guys--why don't you spend less time perfecting the spikes in your hair and lubing up with self-tanner and go fix a toilet or something?? And we have these women that are impossible to love due to their constant bickering over how 'pig-headed' men are and how superior women are. Honey, you will never land a good man with an attitude like that.

I got into a big discussion on facebook today on whether or not traditional dating is dying out. Well, they say chivalry is dead but I refuse to believe it. I'm a freakin pretty, pretty princess dang it! And this princess will settle for nothing less. For instance, "going dutch" is not in my vocabulary. Seriously, are you kidding me?! My personal belief is since we have to one day try to push a watermelon through a lemon-sized hole, I deserve free meals for life. Besides, it's a known fact that men make more money than women. I'm okay with that and refuse to complain because it all evens out in the end for me.
Listen, I have a good self-esteem and am told often of how "vain" I am. But what the heck is wrong with a good self-esteem? Isn't that why we tell our children how great they are? My father treated me like I was a princess and a princess I have become. I know my worth; I know I'm smart; I know I'm pretty....but I don't need to trump a man to prove it.

Men need to feel like men and women need to feel like women. Why are we trying to steal that from each other? I almost guarantee that if these 'feminist' had a good man that understood his role, they wouldn't mind being 'taken care of'. Besides, being a good wife is a very hard job. You SHOULD cook for your husband; You SHOULD put make-up on, stay in shape and keep him attracted to you; You SHOULD have his children and if being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen is a part of that, I don't see anything wrong with it (although when I'm pregnant instead of cooking, I'll be barefoot hoovering over the sink eating left over Chinese food). This is why 50% of marriages end in divorce. People have thrown away the traditional gender roles in relationships and frankly, without them...a marriage has a hard time surviving.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

A Pictures Worth a Thousand Words

Normally when you ask someone the million dollar question, "If your house was on fire what three things would you get?", 99% of the time pictures are included in the list. Pictures are priceless. They hold all the memories and moments in life you found important enough to grab the camera and snap a shot. They help you remember how you felt at your high school graduation; the rush of adrenaline experienced during skydiving; the summer vacation to Disney World with your family. Pictures also make it hard to forget the memories you and your heart wish you could.

Oh, the tangled web we weave! Isn't it funny the hardships we bring on ourselves? Yes, I am once again guilty of this travesty. I, sucker for heartache and queen of snooping, found a way to see B's wedding pictures. (Oh come on, don't act like you haven't facebook stalked someone). Let me just say....OUCH! Now, that hurt.

I made it through the weekend quite nicely with the help from my amazing and supportive boyfriend, and a great set of friends and family who have loved me despite my evident flaws. Yes, I cried....but I had shoulder's to cry on. Yes, my heart hurt.....but it so quickly is mending with a new love which makes it impossible for my heart to break for long (yes, I'm talking about you, Mark....and Hucky of course).

Why, oh why come Monday morning did I throw a wrench into my healing? Like a true idiot, I looked at his wedding pics...him cutting the cake, dancing his first dance, saying his vows...and in that moment I couldn't help but flash back to the pictures under my bed of OUR wedding. Pictures with the same man doing those same things....except with me. It's a very weird's almost like a different realm, too parallel to be the same person. I looked at his smile in his pictures and it looked so different from the smile he had in our pictures...I wondered which one was real or what made it different now.

Pictures can hurt. Mark had to go through and divide up a box of pictures and photo albums with his ex-wife. I hurt for him as he went through 14 years of memories trying to figure up how to divide the life he never wanted to split. I went through the pictures with him, trying to figure out the best way to be fair and for everyone to get what they wanted. But, there was no easy or fair way to do this. He had to loose memories...he had to give them away. As he hurt, I told him we could make new memories, new pictures and new photo albums, but I knew they would never replace the ones that he no longer has.

I love pictures and with each passing week, I create new memories with those I love. The same frames from years back now hold new pictures, new memories while the old picture which once held claim to the frame, now lie buried in a box beneath my bed.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Sharing Scripture

A Sweet Friend of mine shared this scripture with me. She knew this week would be a telling and trying week. I am so thankful for wonderful friends. I love you all.

"Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.
Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies." (Phillippians 4:6-9, The Message)

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

I Choose to be Thankful

I have been dreading this week for several months now. The unconscious time-clock in the back of my mind slowly ticking towards D-day. Scared for what or how I might feel.....How I could react. Would this week pull me in the wrong direction? Take me leaps and bounds back from how far I've come? I have been afraid of what this would make me become. Would I be bitter or re-enter the maddening world-wind of depression?

For those of you unaware of what this week holds--Blair is getting married. No, no...not to me to a NEW wife. Writing those words really makes it a reality; a reality that I am ready for. This has been a tough road, lots of up and downs with more to come, I'm sure. But, I am ready for this final icing on the cake.

Will I cry this weekend? Maybe. Will my heart break a little? I'm sure of it. Will I be okay? Without a doubt.

This is a chapter in my life that will reach its last few pages Saturday night. I will close the book, and store it away in the back of my heart and start a new one. I am thankful for the time I had with Blair. I do not regret our marriage, I never will. I loved him and I believed that he loved me and that's something you don't regret.

The hardest lessons you learn in life are the most valuable. I am thankful for the hard lessons I have endured this year. I am thankful for the hardships in our marriage and I am thankful that God forgave my weak and pathetic attempt at being good mate. Oh, how I choose to be thankful for the endless tears I have cried that has slowly but surely washed away my pain little by little, and cleansed me of the guilt I carried. I choose to be thankful that Blair will be someone elses husband in a few short days...that he is deserving of a second chance of a happy marriage and that I am deserving of it too. I am thankful for new opportunities and for lost opportunities becoming unavailable. I am thankful for blessing of Mark and a hope for the future with him.

Life keeps going. I'm not only moving on....I'm moving forward. "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keeping moving" - Albert Einstein.