i like the rain...

i often come across as someone who can handle a lot.

in truth, i can.

i'm a strong, little hobbit of a girl.

but like everyone else, i have hard moments too.

i love the rain, especially on days like today.

it reminds me to slow down, to breathe in every moment-good or bad.

i really love the rain if i have an umbrella to keep me dry.

i often feel like this guy:

at the risk of sounding self-absorbed

i'm going to say that my life's been hard. the rain sure loves to pour down on me.

i've been through things

i would never wish on my worst enemy.

my past is filled with monsters, the touch of bad men.

the pain of addictions. of being alone....

but they are things that have shaped me.

perhaps that's why i'm so drawn to happy things.

bright things.

cheerful things.

i never leave the house without bubbles and silly putty.

just in case i need to play a little.

it's been almost three years,

but i can still see the hurt when i look into

my eyes.

i don't think it will ever fully depart.
strangely though, i'm okay with the reality of it.
it's brought me here. to this place. in this moment.

though the path alone is dark and chilling,
i know it's better than where i used to be.
why? you may ask.
well, i'll tell you. it's because he's not here.

my darkest hour is considerably brighter
because he's not here anymore.

I’m currently at a weird place in my life.

I feel like so much is falling apart while a lot is also falling into place.

I feel like I’m in the eye of the storm.

Everything around me is calm,

but I can see the destruction heading my way

—past, present, and future—

most of which I’ve brought on myself.

My life is something. It’s beautiful and ugly.

I’ve touched people’s lives and I’ve offended a few more.

I make messes out of everything, but on occasion I’m pretty good at cleaning them up.

I laugh and I cry.

I use too many clichés, exaggerate a little

(p.s. that’s a litotes)

and I get stuff wrong.

i like the rain.

maybe that means i don't mind being broken.

but if i'm broken, then there's always something

to fix.

so, i hope it rains.

rain makes things beautiful.

and i want to be beautiful.

jayc

changin' oil...

today i learned how to change the oil in my car, Gerard.
this was at the expense of my $160 designer jeans...

everything was going great, at first.
we got right in there and took care of business!
in fact, there were no problems
until
we were nearly finished!

we'd already let the oil pan diarrhea-leak all it's fluids.
we took off the old filter.
we filled the new one up 3/4 of the way with oil.
we even put a little on the top before we put it on. they call it a gasket.
(and if you don't do that, it'll get real hot, weld on, and won't come off easy.)

we were basically done, so my brother told me to back down
off the ramps.
so i climbed in my car and put it in reverse.
HELL broke loose....

my car fell off the ramp-thingy
containing my right tire.
so my brother yells, "release the Park Brake!"

excuse me?

who actually uses the park brake?!
not this girl!

i look up and both McCade and Jordan are screaming at me.

i panic. so McCade kicks me out.
(i just stood next to my car, baffled....)
he puts my car in reverse himself.
but he didn't release the park brake either...
so the other tire falls off.

let's back up.

my car fell off the ramp-thingy
containing my right tire.
so my brother yells, "release the Park Brake!"
turns out when my right tire fell off,
the oil bucket was thrown two feet, where it
connected
with my father's toolbox,
spewing dirty, black oil all over the whole thing.

and all over the floor...

apparently when i make a mess,
i make a BIG mess!

so, here i am.
sitting in the mess, cleaning it all up.

i went through
two
rolls of paper towels.
a pile of saw dust.
and an entire bag of kitty litter.
i'm still not sure my dad has seen the mess.

but i'm sure when he does, i'll be killed.

but anything he does to me won't compare to the
agony
of ruining my jeans...

secretly....i'll admit it.

i am a lonely human.

ever since i was eleven or twelve,
i've read my fair share of romance novels.

i'm a sucker for a happy ending.
i love everything about romance:
kissing, hugging, cuddling, laughing, learning.

i can't wait to be married and do married things.
like:
cooking. cleaning. waiting at the door with a kiss.
having babies. painting bedrooms.
kissing away hurts. applyign band-aids.
be boring. grocery shopping.
going to bed early.

but, to my dismay, i have no prospects.
guys don't acknowledge me.
i'm just the loud, crazy girl. with the funny hair.
i'm the best friend.
one of the guys....

i don't like being those things.

i want to be a princess.
a lover. sometimes a hater.
i want to be kissed, carried, and snuggled.

but guys don't see me in those ways.
i'm one in a million.
i hope that's not something negative.

i won't change to meet a guy.
i'm jaycie. plain and simple.
i bite. i pretend to be stealthy.

i just dance the way i feel.
i just hope that's enough...