I’ve taken quite the long break from this blog I had begun to adore. I found myself writing posts and not loving them. Obsessing over the way they were written, their content. Was I saying too much? Saying too little? Blabbing about things people care about or writing just another boring blog? After a good conversation last night with a new friend, I’ve decided that I’m here to stay. To share. Probably way too much information…but, I believe, sharing our insights about life and love is how we grow, how we learn and how we remind each other that no matter where we are or what we are going through, we are not alone.

To reference the Bible (Eat Pray Love for my new readers), Liz and one of her Italian friends exchange language lessons, teaching each other as best they can the in’s and out’s of the English and Italian languages. In one session, Liz explains that when in English we say, “I’ve been there,” it doesn’t necessarily mean we’ve been at a certain geographical location, but that we’ve experienced something similar. She explains to her Italian friend it is something we say to comfort someone who is going through a difficult time. One night, Liz is with her friend, when she breaks down about her heartbreak over an old flame when her friend remembers those often magical English words, “I’ve been there.”

I guess that is my point with this whole thing. I’ve had quite a few women I know send me a message that simply says, I love your blog, I feel like I’m going through the same things. That, to me, is everything. So here we go again. Enjoy.

xoxo – J.

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Giving Back…so easy!

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Giving back is now easier than ever with the emergence of companies like TOMS. Companies who give back in a way that makes your purchase a sort of charitable gift. How easy, and how awesome.

If your like me and TOMS are cute, but, not exactly your shoe style, check out these amazing sandals by Sseko Designs. They are not only super cute for summer, but unbelievably economical. You can purchase a pair for just around $40, but purchase what will look like a completely different shoe for around $10 with their additional straps.

Cute? Check. Economical? Check. Charitable? BIG CHECK.

The coolest thing about Sseko Designs is that they are made in Uganda, by women who are seeking to fund their secondary education. Read the full story here.

xoxo – J.

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Styling 101

For as long as I can remember my sister has driven me crazy with this one huge problem: I don’t know what to wear.

A girl whose closet I envied every time I came home from college (There would always be a new purchase of sorts: Chanel flats, funky Coach high tops, Juicy T’s, J brand denim, C&C california, Velvet, Michael Stars. She shopped Nordstrom for staples, I shopped Target. Tear. ), she would constantly wear the same outfit, none of which included the gorgeous new purchases, or worse: a baggy t-shirt and PINK sweats.

I recently have learned that her problem is one many women seem to be facing. Styling is stopping women from having a little fun in the fashion department. They are stumped by how to piece a look together. But there is no need to be stumped. Here I’ll divulge all of my biggest styling secrets…

Which aren’t secrets at all! Styling is about two things: confidence and fun. Fashion, for me, is just another creative outlet. With all things creative, nothing is ever truly original, it’s all about finding something to inspire you and then making it your own. Do the same with your wardrobe.

My favorite places to browse for ideas are the internet and catalogs. I don’t really like your typical fashion sites like Glamour, Elle or InStyle for inspiration. I like to see complete outfits styled from head to toe. Most retailers have this option on their site. My favorites are forever21.com, victoriasecret.com, athropologie.com, hm.com, and freepeople.com. When I see a look I like I search my closet for ways to pull off the same look. Even those annoying Express coupons come with great style ideas and for those companies left who actually produce and send out catalogs, the styling is phenomenal. You can usually go to their websites and sign up to receive the free catalog.

The easiest place to get style tips, however, are from other women. Look, observe, gawk if you want, at what other women are wearing. I always look at what boutique employees have on, or friends who I think have a great sense of style, or a style least like mine. I typically dress a little boho. When I want to wear something sexy, I browse the Facebook photos of my friend who always looks glam. Check out the looks your favorite TV stars are wearing. The Kardashian sisters are always sporting a stylish ensemble, so are Giuliana and Kat from E!.

Styling is simple, just open your eyes! Great style is everywhere. Don’t be afraid to be a copy cat. And more importantly, don’t be afraid to try something new and fun. Think about it: Are clogs really that sexy? Or rompers? Or tie-dye? Or the new jean-on-jean action? Probably not, but people have fun wearing it, and that’s why it’s back.

Just to show you that its easier than you think, here is an example below. I found this look on forever 21.com, and found pieces from my own wardrobe to make it my own!

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Mental Wellness

This will shock you, I’m sure, but Dick’s best friend was quite the dick himself. Such a dick that the typical derogatory nicknames I would use don’t even come close to an accurate description, so I’m going to have to just settle for “this guy.” Post break-up I had a conversation with “this guy” over money he owed me. Of course there would be no paying me back, and of course, since I dare ask about the money, I was subject to quite the tongue lashing.

He proceeded to tell me how he had read the messages I had written Dick (thanks for sharing!) and that I was pathetic and crazy. If I remember correctly it went something along the lines of…”You are so crazy you’ve had to see a therapist (thanks again for sharing that with your kind-hearted buddy, Dick) and you still need to see one.”

His ignorance has helped fuel my motivation for recently joining the auxiliary board of a local non-profit  called Ozark Guidance. They are a counseling center for everyone from toddlers to the elderly. The marketing director of this amazing place has one big goal in mind that I will be doing my best to achieve: ending the stigma associated with mental wellness. I couldn’t believe in it more.

Let me just say right now, anyone who sees a therapist is not crazy. They are, in fact, far from it. People who see therapists have recognized they have some sort of issue, whatever it may be, they would like to deal with and move forward. People from every walk of life for every rhyme and reason have therapists. And thank God.

These people, who have realized they aren’t exactly themselves, deal with their anger or pain or sadness. They aren’t taking it out on their families, their children, their co-workers. They are taking responsibility and owning whatever is inside them. They want to be better. They want to be happy, productive people. I think everyone and their mother should have a therapist.

I started seeing a therapist again post breakup with Dick. I was so devastated I could barely make it through my work day. I woke up crying, I left the office crying, I went home and cried myself to sleep. There was a lot of crying. What I cried about the most was why the hell I was crying. Truth be told, I had ended the relationship with Dick first. I had been noticing for a month or so how much I didn’t like him. Finally coming to terms with what I had known all along – this guy treated me like shit. But when I ended things, he said okay. That’s when I lost it. I expected some sort of fight from him, some sort of plea, another promise to work harder or do better. I expected him to say that he couldn’t imagine his life without me. I expected him to try and convince me otherwise. When he didn’t, I went back on it all. All of a sudden the tables turned and I was promising and begging. I was in a total panic that he was about to be gone. He had promised forever, a million times. He had told me time and time again after every break up or argument, that if we didn’t work it out, if we let it go, it would forever be his biggest regret. And not only did he not say these things to me the way I had hoped, he said them to someone else on the very day I broke up with him: his ex-girlfriend. Despite this letter where he confessed his true love was for her, I decided to believe him when he said it was strictly platonic (I know, right?) and take some time for both of us to think.

The “thinking” ended in a two word text message he sent me: it’s over. Yep, that was it.

The why was the one thing that I couldn’t let go. Sure, my friends and family tried to give me the answer, they’d say things like he’s just an asshole, or, he’s a liar. Well, duh. But I wanted more. I wanted to know how a person  could make this timetable for an engagement and marriage, ask me to sacrifice my family, my friends, my career, my goals and my dreams, to make his happen, all to basically say whoops, nevermind! But most importantly, I wanted to know why the hell I sacrificed all of those things for a shitty relationship in the first place?

This is where Saint Clark the therapist came in. I call him saint because well, this man is a saint. He’s this older, ex-hippie, ex-druggie, ex-band member who went back to college after a long long time and became a therapist. Saint Clark was able to answer the ‘why’ to a lot of the questions I found to be so perplexing. Saint Clark gave me peace and understanding of myself. Saint Clark gave me the closure that Dick refused to give.

Saint Clark also made me laugh my ass off. He shared bits of obvious knowledge that women everywhere have chosen to ignore, so I will divulge on here from time to time.

Lesson 1: A man who plays with video games is not a man.

For months video games had been this topic of war between me and Dick. He played them incessantly. They drove me nuts. The swearing, the screaming at the TV, the constant gunshot and bomb noises turned up so loud I prayed one of those virtual bullets would come flying through the TV and become real, pierce into my brain and kill me instantly. (Yes, I hated it that much.) What I hated the most was that when I would drive to see him for a weekend, this is what he would do.  To me, the answer to this problem we would fight about regularly was simple. If you would rather scream at your TV then spend time with me, don’t ask me to come. Simple logic, right? No, to Dick this thought process  was crazy. He made it a point when we broke up to emphasize how crazy I was by sharing that his new high school girlfriend acted like an adult about his video games.

Knife to the heart. When I was teary-eyed, telling Saint Clark about all of this, he stopped me. He was chuckling to himself, in fact, which sort of pissed me off. He asked me, “Do you know how many things are wrong with this sentence? Your upset because his girlfriend, who is not, in fact, an adult, is supposedly acting like an adult about him playing with a toy?


Oh, was right. I was thinking with my heart and not my brain. Something I, and a lot of other women, do constantly. We should still feel with our hearts, but thinking with them is as bad as a man who thinks with his penis. It’s just plain ignorant.

Saint Clark brought a little bit of logic and critical thinking back into my life. That’s what therapists do. They tell you the utter, plain truth, even when it hurts a little. It’s their job to bring you back down to reality. In my opinion, everyone could use a little bit of that. They will tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Scream, cry, smash some glass, talk it through a million times, do whatever you need to do to ease the pain and anger, and then move on. The ‘why me’ mentality simply doesn’t fly with them because they have an answer.

Therapists aren’t for weak, pathetic people, contrary to what “this guy” thought. They are for brave, insightful people. People who want to know where they need to improve in order to continue to have a happy, healthy life.

If the stigma associated with this sort of thing disappeared, we would have more teens talking to their school counselors about what’s going on in their lives, instead of tragic stories like Phoebe Prince. We would have better mothers, better fathers, happier children, better friends, better leaders. Mental wellness affects everyone. You can help end the stigma in so many ways. When a friend mentions possibly going to see a therapist, support it. If they come to you with a problem you can’t give sound advice on, suggest it. If you have had an experience with a therapist, share it. The first time I got the courage to go see one was when a peer talked about her experience so nonchalantly I began to feel comfortable with the idea.

The bottom line is everyone has demons. The world in which we live is far from perfect. Bad things happen all the time that we cannot control. What we can control is how we deal with the bad things that happen. If your necessary step is to see a therapist, it is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it’s something to take pride in.

If you have any questions or concerns about therapy please feel free to contact me.

xoxo – J.

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Church lady

Saturday night I started feeling a little low and a little lonely for the first time in a long time. Typically this dark, dreary feeling would send me into a tailspin of tears. This time though, it didn’t. Instead, it did two things, odd things. First, it pushed me to go on a run outside. This is very odd for me being that the last time I went on a run was well, never, and I haven’t seen the inside of a gym since my sophomore year of college. Fit and healthy are two words that have forever been absent from my vocabulary.

I laced up some old dirty running shoes (not from the wear and tear of running, but waiting tables), went outside and just started running. It was warm, the wind was blowing and clouds were rolling in for the typical evening storm. Now, don’t get excited I didn’t run for 10 miles or some amazing feat, I probably barely ran a mile in reality, but I kept running. When I reached this ridiculous hill, out of breath, I said, ‘Okay, run up this hill, and then you can walk.’ So I did. Normally, I would have quit after the first pain in my side. (I used to run 12 minute miles in high school.) But instead of caving, I pushed myself, I controlled my thoughts and I did it.

I felt like I was going to die after my little spurt of exercise, but I also felt a bit refreshed. I had a small goal, and I accomplished it. I also said see ya to my sadness and had ran away from the loneliness.

The funny thing I learned about loneliness is that you can’t run away from it, or avoid it, or keep yourself constantly busy to ignore it, which I already knew from a few months of weekend road trips and tequila and Gilbert (Who went all the way to Italy to escape her loneliness, only to come to this conclusion: When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience…”).

So when a show came on TV that was the favorite of me and Dick, my heart started to feel a little prick of the indescribable pain I used to feel. Just as I was beginning to fill my head with bullshit about how great he was, (Gilbert again comes in handy here: “In desperate love, we always invent the characters of our partners, demanding they be what we need of them, and then feeling devastated when they refuse to perform the role we created in the first place.”), my mind went to ‘You should go to church tomorrow.’ What the fuck? It reminded me of one of  my dear friends from college who can switch her mind from one random thing to the next in an instant, no warning, no wavering, just bam. We’d be sitting around on the couch studying and she would say, ‘I want some apple juice,’ get up, drive to the store, and get it. Just the apple juice. Nothing else. That’s what my mind did this time. I sat with the loneliness for a minute, and then my mind went somewhere else because the truth is, I’m not really all that lonely.

Church. Ah, church. I haven’t been to church in at least 5 years, and before that it was most likely masses I had to attend since I went to a Catholic high school. I think my mind went there because I have been thinking about God a lot lately. Do I need him, what do I believe, what does it mean to have great faith? My mind has been all over the place with it. I’ve never thought that church was a necessity to have true faith. My experience with church has almost always been a negative one. Snooty people with a lot of money who go because it’s part of their image. (Think Alexa on the Real Housewives of OC, YUCK.) These types of people have left a bad taste in my mouth about church for as long as I can remember. But, Gilbert says this about rituals like church-going in her book:

“This is what rituals are for. We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don’t have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down. We all need such places of ritual safekeeping. And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn’t have the specific ritual you are craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising…”

I’d been thinking about this ever since I read it a few weeks ago. Maybe church would help. Maybe church would help me grow and feel closer with God. Maybe church would help me get rid of these feelings of loneliness forever.

So, I went.

I went to a church near my work that I always had thought to be a non-denominational Christian church. It looks like churches I’ve gone to in my past and although I’ve always disliked them, it still gave me a little feeling of familiar comfort. However, I found out after skimming that day’s service pamphlet, I was, in fact, in a Southern Baptist church.

All I knew about Southern Baptists is that my judgmental grandma is one, and they hate drinking. I like drinking. And do I think you can have a relationship with God and drink? You bet your ass I do.

So, me and the Southern Baptists were off on the wrong foot. However, I’ve always been very intrigued by different ways of belief, so I stuck it out. I noticed that they put a lot of emphasis on Jesus. A lot. Every song they sang wasn’t to God, but to Jesus. Then there were baptisms, based on the participants acceptance of Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. At this point in my faith, as I’m figuring it all out, I’m more along the lines of God, God, God.

After all the in-your-face Jesus, (which had been accompanied by my guilt of being a follower of Jesus on Twitter, it’s kind of hysterical, you should follow.) the church’s preacher took the stage. What a delightful man … After a little bashing on those who “carouse” or drink, homosexuals in general, and a few blatantly sexist jokes by this TRULY southern male preacher, came a part of his message where I was finally able to stop rolling my eyes.

The whole message was about controlling our emotions. Not controlling them in the ‘a real man never feels emotions’ way, but feeling the emotion, sitting with it and then dealing with it (i.e. Gilbert’s conclusion).

This wonderful preacher (rolling my eyes again) used the example of Jesse James. James had said in an interview with Nightline how he never dealt with the emotions of being abused as a child. That instead, he masked them with this tough guy image, and in the end, not dealing with his issues caused him to lose his marriage.

Well … I think it was a few other women, infidelity, and I don’t know, his love of Nazi’s that possibly ended his marriage, BUT hey, the message was still a good one: We have to deal what’s in us because it will come out of us. Our thoughts are who we are. To give you more Gilbert than I’m sure you can handle this blog post, “You are, after all, what you think.”

It felt for a moment like maybe God was speaking right to me.  A little nudge of encouragement to keep on the road that I am. To remind me that it’s just like running – while the pain in my side was screaming ‘Stop running you moron,’ my mind was saying, ‘You can make it up the hill.’ When the pain from my past relationship starts stomping on my heart, which it will, it’s just a matter of my mind saying, ‘You deserve happiness.’

(A little side note…Now, you may be saying ‘Jena, if your heart is feeling one thing, and your head is saying another, are you really just masking what you feel and not dealing with it?’ Believe me, I’ve thought about this. A LOT. As I’ve slowly but surely started to come back to life I think is this too easy? Am I just avoiding how sad I really am? WRONG. The reality is that I spent months and months and months sad. Nothing about it has been easy. Praying that I could fall back asleep if I woke up early on a weekend, just to have to face less of the day ahead. I flooded my mom and my close family friend with messages and e-mails and phone calls every day about what I was feeling. I had lunches with my co-worker every day to rehash what I had already thought I had overcome. I got a counselor. I dealt. But the truth is, I’m still dealing. What’s changed, however, and what’s crucial to being able to ever really move on, is my attitude. I look now on what happened as an opportunity to grow and learn and be a better person. So yes, I tell myself ‘You deserve happiness,’ even when I’m feeling sad because the simple truth is, I do. Our head and our hearts don’t always have to match … letting my heart do the leading is what got me into this whole mess in the first place. It’s time for my head to kick my heart’s ass for the time being.)

But maybe it was just the establishment of the church itself. Maybe we always feel like the message was specifically for us because we all experience a lot of the same things and we all need the same reminders. Maybe this is why people continually get up every Sunday, on their day to do absolutely nothing because they need that safe resting place Gilbert talks about. They need to deal with their feelings and this is a place they can do it. This is the place where someone always knows what to say. This is the where they don’t have to deal with it all on their own. The place where you can lay it all out there in prayer, forgive yourself, and learn how to deal.

So, I’m going to try church again. (One with a little more of a ritual I am craving, however, where I don’t get a headache from rolling my eyes so much.) Not  because it will magically take away any feelings of loneliness or sorrow or because I have to have it to continue to grow, but with the option of having a place to hold my hand and guide me along the way, why do it alone?

xoxo – J.

(PS – In honor of this post I found a blog that posts hilarious church signs … watch the slideshow … it will make you laugh.)

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Short & Sassy

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After being inspired by January Jones short ‘do, I started thinking about the fact that I have always thought about donating my hair to locks of love. With that said, when is a better time than the present?  Short hair for me has never been anything above the shoulders, but a little part of me has always wanted a truly short look. Dick used to always say that girls with short hair were ugly, so I kept it long. We all know where believing the things he said got me, so time to prove how silly that statement is when I look fabulous with short hair! 🙂  To quote the ultimate break up song, “…Cut my hair ‘cus it reminded me of you, I know you like the long ‘do, had to switch my attitude up.” My attitude about life, love and myself couldn’t be more different than it was a year ago. To celebrate, I’m going to cut it when I go back to Chicago for my 23rd birthday in July. I’m changing, and I’m loving who I am again. 23 is going to be an amazing year of my life.

I’ve never had a ridiculous attachment to my  hair. (My mother certainly has, however.) Over my life I’ve gone blonde, black, auburn, had bangs and layers, but now it’s time to add short to the list. The one thing I’ve learned is it always grows back, or grows out. I think it’s mainly the confidence you have about your ‘do. I mean, look at Rihanna. That hair on most people would look ridiculous, but it looks awesome on her because she owns it.

I think, too, this decision signals a major change in my life. Women constantly do this – think Carrie on SATC I, she goes dark after Big “can’t get out of the car.” It empowers her. It makes her feel like a new woman. Of course if a mental meltdown is causing the change (Brittney anyone?) you may need to rethink reaching for the scissors.

But, luckily for me, the mental meltdown phase has passed and I’ve managed to make it to the other side with my hair. Phew. But now it’s time. I see my beauty on the inside for the first time in a long time. Hair is just hair and I don’t need it long. Someone else needs it more than me. I hope this is the start of a multitude of kind acts on my part. This is what life is all about. Giving. It’s not about being the prettiest girl at the party. Who gives a shit about that? When you look back on your life what’s going to matter more to you?

I’m not saying that every girl with long hair should go chop off their luscious locks, but I am saying do something kind today, for someone else. Do what you can in your little corner of the world. And most importantly, it’s time to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do, even if it is a tiny bit scary.

In the spirit of this idea, I’ll share 10 items on my current and ever-changing bucket list.

1. Learn to play guitar.

2. Do an entire collection of paintings. Sell at least one! (Not to my parents!)

3. Write a book.

4. Learn how to screen print.

5. Adopt a dog from a shelter.

6. Go skydiving.

7. Live in Europe, at least for a year.

8. Learn to sew.

9. Find a problem in my community and work to change it.

10. Get another degree.

What’s on yours?

xoxo – J.

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In the now

To say Elizabeth Gilbert changed my life sounds slightly over dramatic, but her book, along with some amazing family and friends took me out of a major funk in my life. I will continue to blab about it on this blog for quite some time because to me it is a book every woman on the planet should read. Today’s lesson from Liz: The power of the present.

I blogged not to long ago about my excitement for my future. The excitement I feel when I ask myself WWJD? I’m still dreaming of possibly being an au pair in Paris or moving to LA or Austin or wherever the wind blows me, BUT I’ve finally stopped worrying about the future and started enjoying what my life is here and now.

Gilbert says to herself in the Bible (as I will now refer to her book) this passage as she is meditating at an Ashram in India and are thoughts are filled with where she is going to live when her year of travel is complete:

Here you are in India, in an Ashram in one of the holiest pilgrimage sites on earth. And instead of communicating with the divine, you’re trying to plan where you’ll be meditating a year form now in a home that doesn’t yet exist in a city yet to be determined. How about this, you spastic fool–how about you try to meditate right here, right now, right where you actually are?

This hit home for me. I have been in Arkansas for over a year and have not enjoyed a day of it. I spent the first months in a miserable relationship and then spent the next few depressed and angry about the miserable relationship. I have been letting the miserable relationship still make me miserable, even though it is over. What the hell?

A local pastor who writes a column in the publication I work at once wrote, “Forgiveness is choosing to not live with the consequence of another’s sin.”

It’s true. After months of letting the hurtful things my ex had done (on top of the fact I moved here for him) eat me alive (literally, I think I was missing my soul for awhile), I let it go, as best I could, and decided that I should make the best of what my life is right now. I wasted a whole year of my life feeling sad, bitter, angry, depressed, exhausted, abused and abandoned. That’s who I had been for a whole year: the sad girl with all the issues. A whole year, gone. I finally refused to stop letting my ex’s behavior dictate who I was or how I was going to feel. I chose to let go and with it I let go of the consequences of his sin.

I’m finally feeling thankful, actually, for the life I have here. I have a job where I get to wear whatever I want, come in around 9 a.m., look at magazines and search trends all day. I get to write and design. I get to assist at photo shoots and even play photographer from time to time. I have a job that most people spend their entire careers trying to get to, and don’t get me wrong, this is no Vogue or Elle, and most months I’m surprised are publication actually makes it to the printer, but I have a relentless amount of creative freedom. If you know anything about the publishing world, this is an amazing gift to have.

I also finally made an effort to have friends. I guess I thought they were just going to fall in my lap like they do in college, but in the adult working world, people already have lives and friends, so YOU have to be the one to become a part of their lives and friends.

A simple text to my co-worker about grabbing a cocktail or heading to SATC2 has brought me a social life again. She’s introduced me to her group of friends, who have embraced me so kindly. I think I blatantly forgot that there are kind women in the world who don’t seek to exclude you or make you feel like the outsider looking in. Who aren’t cliquey, but for a lack of a better word, just nice. Women who aren’t jealous, who are secure enough with themselves to say ‘the more the merrier.’ I find myself thankful again, not only for new friends, but for the lesson I’ve learned from these women. In college, I had my friends. I had no interest in letting new people in. I had enough friends quite frankly, and didn’t want to be bothered with making a new person feel comfortable. Man, was I a bitch! I will never again be that way. You never know the people you will meet if you open up your circle. And you also never know how much you can brighten someone’s day or make their life better by simply saying ‘We’re going out tonight, want to join?’

So make new friends, do the best you can at whatever your job may be right now, and love the life your living RIGHT NOW. Stop fretting about the future or the fact you may not be exactly where you had planned, you will get there. But half the fun is enjoying the ride. (Or as all you cliche´lovers would say…It’s called the present for a reason. Couldn’t help myself…)

xoxo -J.

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