a message to my people..

so I feel some follow up is in order after the douche bag post and some resulting backlash. let me first start off by saying thank you for the attention and comments (I only received 2 pieces of negative feedback and I'm sure you can guess which camp they came from..).

we are all scorn. by this age, and really by any age, we've all suffered some unfortunate acquaintance with one douche bag or another (this goes for girls and guys). we've all been played. we've all been hurt. we've all vented to our friends. while it may not be accurate to say "we've all posted blogs to document the experience", I have-so deal with it. I am not a bitch with too much time on her hands. I am not a vindictive poor helpless soul lacking shame. the way I see it is, my life for the most part is an open book, because that is what I choose. I love to write. And I'm damn good at it, regardless if you agree or find grammatical or spelling errors. it's what I do and it's what I love. If you, or anyone, subjects me to a situation as such, I have the full right and privilege to write about it. to make light of it. to call myself out on it or you. you made me feel like crap and I made light of it. what puts you on a pedestal and me in the wrong?

and for those of you thinking I'm a crazy chick and nothing is off limits when it comes to blogging..you're the crazy one. I have gone through things that I don't feel are appropriate for either myself, my family, or others involved to write about. I do have discretion and I do use judgement. simply because we disagree on whether or not I did in this case, is just a difference in opinion. I'm confident in my decision.

while I'm confident in my decision to have written it and everything I wrote in said douche bag post was 100% true (albeit sad, but true), I did talk to "him" last night. he gave me what seemed to be a genuine apology, took me out for a milkshake and we talked. so yes, I removed his name from the post. I'm not admitting fault, I simply see his side of things and not everyone should be judged for an encounter with a particular individual. I do think the jersey shore offspring comes from a good place and has a good heart, I just think I met him at a time where we was, and still is, figuring things in his life out. we've all done things we regret (I am solid proof of such), but I refuse to apologize for recounting a true story that shed some light on some things and brought a smile and girl power mentality to a number of souls.

thanks again for simply the feedback and interest you took...whether good or bad, this was my highest viewed post ever..and only within 90 minutes. I've received calls and emails about this story and about my ability to recount situations in a humorous manner which again is what I think I'm made to do..

.jl.

lemme tell you about this boy..

this boy who did me wrong. and not from a bitter-I got dumped-it wasn't fair standpoint. I've never been a kiss and tell kinda girl..just figured it's not my place. but today's world is filled with so many liars, players, guys that think their shit doesn't stink..all around douche-bags. and well, us nice girls who deserve nice guys (yes I said deserve), need to stick together.

girls have instincts when they meet someone. when I met Lance (real names omitted), I knew he was the playboy type. more-so the wannabe playboy type, but as I got to know him he worked really hard to change my perception of him. my bad..it almost worked. one of these days I swear I'll learn. but like a true jerk, his true colors came shining through. I'm almost disappointed in myself for dating a guy that could be THIS dumb.

he's the kind of guy that when he puts your number in his phone, real names are a privilege. perhaps he'll put your first name, just because it kinda makes sense, but he will also put a body asset he's fond of (or not fond of) and perhaps where he met you. I get it..when you get that many numbers, that many trashy numbers, you want to remember who to call when. now I know a lot of girls and guys that do this..but once you start getting older, life is not about filling up your blackberry with girls you literally pick up off the floor of a bar at 2am. (don't worry, I wasn't in that category..)

Lance is the kind of guy that comes over to my house (as we're dating, talking, what have you) when I'm sick. sick with a 104.7 fever. he comes over with soup...how sweet. but it's a can of soup that he heats up for himself, eats in front of me, makes himself at home, doesn't offer any and leaves the mess on the counter on his way out to the bar to meet more barflies. no looking back..not even a text to see if I'm still alive or God-forbid need anything.

[I have removed one line here, although it's true, I'm not trying to ruin his reputation..I'm just making light of the situation of him being a douche-bag and what he did to me..]

he's the kind of guy that tans so much he kinda resembles Garfield.. (what was I thinking!?).

I have opted for a shorter blog, so here is the kicker. Lance, is the kind of guy that goes to a charity event of the girl he's dating (this would be me) for support. sweet, right? he's the kind of guy that for the 5 seconds he isn't holding my hand or whispering things like "honey, this event was so great. I'm so proud of you", he was off getting one of my charity chicks phone numbers. ok, ballsy. audacious. douche, your call. but it gets better. he's the kind of guy to disappear from my event for 30 mins and say he had to run to the ATM, but instead go to another bar with this girl he just met at MY event. he's the kind of guy to show up at my next stop to resume the hand-holding and nice conversation. what I just found out is he's also the kind of guy to text my friend, that he just met at MY event, and invite her to hang out with us. he's the kind of guy to call her from the bar (when I went to the bathroom) to try and win her over. and he's even the kind of guy to text her from my bed at 6:30 in the morning while I'm sleeping. RIGHT NEXT TO HIM!

and ladies and gentlemen..he's the kind of guy to get MAD at me for doubting his 30 minute disappearing act. yes I may have trust issues, but when you're actually lying and a girl is smart enough to see it, you aren't allowed to get mad. you forfeit that right the second you become a douche (in Lance's case, the day he was born) or the second you lie.

(and if any ladies need to see a picture or want his number to make sure you don't have it or answer if it ever calls, just let me know..just my public service for the day..)

.jl.

crush is an ironic word, no?

crush	768 up, 54 down
	1. the act of falling hard for someone even though it isn't love yet 2. a precursor to love 3. an amazing thing that gives you feelings of nerves and excitement whenever you see them

Today I used the word (prematurely I might add) "crush" for the first time since I can remember. I got uber excited at the mere fact I may have finally suppressed all the feelings and confusion of my last relationship and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Said "light" just so happens to be in the shape of a muscular ridiculously attractive guy combined with a sense of sarcasm, genuine sincerity, and a smile that could make you..well, you know. The sincerity is what got me..obviously I'm not familiar with such a quality in past beaus.

I've said over and over again, and I'm pretty sure I've meant it, that I'm not ready for another relationship, not yet anyways. I don't need it, I don't have time for it, and it isn't a priority. All true. Part of that was also based on the tidbit that I haven't been attracted to anyone lately. I haven't met any guys that have filled previous shoes and I wasn't trying to settle in a rush to find it.

Then I said it. Out loud. And on twitter. After a few hours, the irony of the word set in. As a child I always wondered who (and quite frankly still do) appointed words to their meanings. We all played that game as kids. If "the who" that chose what words meant had called a lamp an areola instead of a lamp, we wouldn't think twice. It would be common to call part of your breast a lamp. We would have said at the infamous Super Bowl XXXVIII halftime mishap that Janet Jackson's lamp was sticking out.

So why did this Almighty Word Assigner call "puppy love", and this feeling of excitement, a crush? Was he/she trying to tell us something?

You don't find it ironic that the same word identified as a "precursor to love" is also:

crush	660 up, 253 down
	v. the process by which people are killed when thrown beneath asteam-roller or other placed in between two solid surfaces with force being applied toward them that the body cannot withstand.

I mean...food for thought, no?

If a crush can potentially lead to love, and love has always ended up ALL WRONG for me, then I think it's safe to say I can retract my earlier crush comment and revert back to pre-crush time.

.jl.

(..ps..written at 3:30am, I may wake up and decide a crush or interest of any kind may not be such a bad idea..guess we'll have to wait and see..)

SHUTOUT

The only good thing that came from yesterday's vile massacre of the Dallas Cowboys shutting out my ON FIRE Philadelphia Eagles was this one-of-a-kind, recycled from an old jersey, Eagles Clutch from Zoe Klutch.

She has some clutches already made from some great shirts she's picked up along the way, but she also takes custom orders from any of your favorite old t-shirts and now jerseys (happy to say mine was the first ever from the jersey line!). It can be your favorite sports team, the team you played for in high school, your favorite band, a pattern on a shirt that your mom shrunk five years ago, or whatever else you conjure up.

Check her out and tell her I sent you!

ps..can't wait to see the Eagles take revenge next week and then off to win the Super Bowl (even though I won't be able to stand it if Kibbles and Vick gets a ring..).

.jl.