Not Over U

I still want him after he broke my heart and I wrote pathetic stories about him not to mention a million terrible poems he doesn’t even deserve the words I write or the thoughts I have or the skin on my body but sometimes I still want him to have them all



He was my first kiss, my first everything he will be with me forever I will never be able to lose him to bleed him out or suffocate him without killing myself he is in my bones

Fuck him fuck him he doesn’t deserve any of that why am I crying



I wish I had rejected him I wish I had never fallen under his spell I wish that rejecting him would have been enough but he wouldn’t have given a shit he would have just found someone else and someone else and someone else and I wouldn’t have mattered I never mattered



He didn’t ever give a shit even after the first time we kissed last November I had to basically beg to see him again god I only further inflated his damn ego and now he’s so proud of himself for being my firsts and holy shit it’s been a year since he started destroying me




-Jade Alexandra


Probably Broken

So clearly I’m doing a real swell job of blogging. I’m finding that I’m gloriously mediocre in all areas of my life. I can’t manage to do anything very well. Lame at boys, lame at blogging, lame at life.

Speaking of lame at life, I’m pretty lame at London. Like I’m also finding that I’m probably broken. Except not probably, but actually. Because any other person would be stoked out of their mind to be in the UK right now. Any other person would be like, “WOW! LONDON!” and soaking it all up, marveling at every minute of it. And I’m sitting here like, “Meh, it’s alright I guess.” And I feel like a terrible ungrateful bitch for not being stoked on every second of my life here. But I am so grateful for this experience, and I am so happy that I am here.

Somehow I just feel so apathetic.

Like it’s great and all, but. I could be home. I could be anywhere else. I could be anywhere else and probably feel the same. I think I’m broken because I can’t enjoy anything. I’m too pessimistic. Too negative. I could be anywhere doing things other people consider awesome and great and I’d probably still be complaining.

Will I ever be able to find joy in anything? It’s not that I’m unhappy here….apart from an extreme bout of homesickness last week, I’ve been content. Content but not over the moon. And I should be. Where is my happiness? Where is my love and joy and passion? I can’t let it only come from boys who don’t really love me. I can’t let it come from the attention I get from other people but that’s what I do. I am so broken. My heart, my head. I’m fucked.

I find my joy in other people. I’ve been so lucky to have the roommates that I do. We get along so well and I love them both. It’s crazy to think I didn’t know either of them before…and now we are so close; laughing and joking all the time. They are the people I do the most of my adventuring with and the most of my non-adventuring with. Most of the time you can find the three of us in the room in our own respective beds, under the covers just hanging out, enjoying down time. I’m afraid we make down time too much of a priority sometimes….we can sleep and watch Netflix when we get home; when are we going to have London at our fingertips again? But the main point in me sharing about them is that 90% of the joyful moments I’ve had here have been with them. Just us joking in the room or having a picnic cheese and wine night in a local park. Not even doing London-y travel-y study abroad things. But these are the moments I am going to remember. Anyone Big Ben or the London Eye in a picture, or in real life. But even though they’re beautiful and cool in person I can’t connect with them in a meaningful way. But people become so important to me.

Maybe I am broken. Or maybe traveling, stupidly, doesn’t excite me. But I think I would enjoy myself anywhere in the world as long as I had great people with me. If I had gone to Spain, or France, or Mexico, or New York, or Nebraska, I doubt I’d enjoy any of them as much if I was alone or with people who I couldn’t laugh and share the experience with.

Here’s to hoping brokenness heals and to every day finding one small reason to love London.

– Jade Alexandra

In Love with My Demon

I came to London to get away. I needed a change, a fresh start, an escape from my demons that I thought I could leave behind in California. It’s hard to believe demons can exist in a place so sunny and warm. But he isn’t from California now, is he?

It’s just coincidence that he seemingly followed me here. But that’s not the case. One time zone away, two hours by plane, and suddenly I am not free here like I thought I’d be. He’s tethered me down to old thoughts and feelings, memories and darkness I can’t escape and secretly long for.

I am too comfortable with my own sadness. I am self-destructive, masochistic, trying to find ways to get hurt by him again, lonely for my own broken heart. I got drunk the other night and missed him in the early morning, and it’s like he knew. It’s like he could sense my heart panging, my lips longing, my mind replaying all of the tender kisses we shared that I thought I was destined to never again receive, of all the soft touches, of quiet moments in the dark that he made me think were gone forever.  He could sense my loneliness, my pain, like only he could. He wanted to rub salt in the wounds that I thought had healed over. And though I’m stinging I have loved every second of it. Because it was him; my beautiful evil demon paying attention to me, wanting me again. He called me, and toyed with me and asked me to visit him. One time zone away, two hours by plane. And I wanted to. I want to.

I want to see him face to face, not through a fuzzy screen with bad connection. I want him to hold me in his arms, I want to once again touch his warm tanned skin, to run my fingers through his now overgrown hair, to smell his scent and taste his tanginess. What I wouldn’t give to be violated, to be used one last time by him. He has already broke me, how much more damage can he really do? Shatter my heart to pieces again after I’ve just finished picking them up?

I want to hope that he’s changed and that he’ll love me and gives me what I want and need. It’s stupid to do so. It’s stupid to want him, it’s stupid to miss him, but I do. I want him no matter the circumstances, no matter the risk. I am stupid, I am weak, I am self-destructive. I should be disgusted by him, appalled. I should loathe every molecule of his being, be revolted at the sight and sound and thought of him. I thought I was. I thought my scars had healed and I was hardened to his charms. I thought I had left him behind, left that time spent together in the California sun. I thought I had traded my sadness for new life and adventure in a new city. How is it that he can so easily get under my skin and break through my walls so easily? Am I really so weak that one conversation, one glimpse of his face dissolved them, vanishing them into thin air?

I hate myself, my addiction to heartbreak, to him, to sadness. I hate his hold on me. My first real love, my loveliest demon. I guess he’ll haunt me forever.


– Jade Alexandra

London Living

‘Ello  lil blog! It’s been awhile. Too long of a while. So much for my New Year’s Resolution of writing more. My last semester of school and summer got crazy with drama and finals and sickness and prep for my semester abroad which by the way I guess I should mention….I am in LONDON!

Yes London as in England as in the UK as in across the pond and yes it’s literally insane and crazy and surreal and all that jazz but little old me from little old San Diego who had never flown or been out of the country has now flown and is out of the country. I navigated massive airports alone, used foreign currency (they’re called pounds?? I still don’t understand the coins here), traveled on the tube (aka the underground aka public transportation aka I won’t drive or be in a car for the next 4 months), lugged my 50 pound suitcases all over the city, and moved into an international student’s residence called Lee Abbey.

So far everything here is amazing. For how nervous and stressed out I was about traveling for the first time and traveling for the first time all by myself, everything went well. No lost suitcases or delayed flights. I haven’t gotten lost and everyone here has been super friendly, helping me with my bags and pointing me in the right direction. Lee Abbey apparently is in an area called Kensington Gardens I believe…I still don’t know much of the city yet. Which apparently is in Zone 1…again..not quite sure what that means exactly except for that its a super nice neighborhood and celebs and rich people have flats and apartments here and the royal family lives not too far away. Everything is clean and pretty. The architecture is gorgeous, and the people are great. I’ve never been in a place so diverse. For America supposedly a big “melting pot” of people, we are surprisingly all the same. Maybe that’s because we’ve all been melted down into something similar. But here, there is so much diversity in race and ethnicity and language spoken and clothes worn and everything. When I was on the tube there were two Asian families, two black families, a few people who looked like they were from the middle east and maybe two people who were white/Caucasian/British whatever. I think it’s really cool.

And here at Lee Abbey, there will be students from all over the world here. I’m here with a group of students from my school and we are all studying literature and theatre and the arts and stuff with a few professors from our campus. But so far there are lots of kids from France and I’m sure as we approach August and September, usually the natural beginning of a school term, even more students will show up so I’m excited to hopefully make friends from around the world.

I arrived yesterday afternoon so I have today to rest and explore and settle in before my classes start tomorrow afternoon. My phone only works here when I have wifi, which is in rare spots like Lee Abbey and Starbucks, and even then I can’t make phone calls or send texts to non iPhones. And all my family are about 8 hours behind so when I woke up this morning everyone was going to bed so it’s extremely early morning for them right now making it difficult to talk to everyone when I want to. But it’s only my second day here so I’m sure I will get into the hang of things soon enough.

Breakfast here was a little strange…a poached egg with eggs….so I had toast and cereal instead because I was a little freaked out. I’ll have to see how the rest of the food is. But yeah, other than that, my room here is great. It’s really big and there’s three of us staying here (my roommates are cool) and we have huge windows that open up onto a little balcony that overlooks the street. It’s really nice. Last night it stayed light out until like 10:00 which was crazy. We were out walking around after dinner at around 9:00 and it felt like 6 in the evening.

Sorry if this post was all over the place. I really am hoping to write more while I’m here so I can document my journey and have something to look back on to remember my awesome time here. I’m taking a bunch of lit and writing classes here and this city is amazing and so cool and I am already more inspired than I was back in San Diego so I think my writing endeavors will go well. I was nervous about leaving home and felt weird about not being on campus with the rest of my friends but this will be good for me. I needed the break and the change and to get away from the drama and just doing the same thing every day.  I can’t wait for the rest of this adventure to get started!

Will write again soon!

– Jade Alexandra

Dark and Lonely

I’ve been trying so hard not to miss him, but I can’t. I miss him so much. I want him to hold me and touch me and want me again. I want him to love me. I wish I could love me because you know, they say you have to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with someone else. But I am not good enough for myself. I can’t make myself smile like he could, can’t hold myself tightly like he would. And when my own skin brushes against my own lonely skin, I just want to tear off all my damned skin and die because I can’t stand the thought that for the rest of my life I’ll only ever have my own fingers and hands and arms to touch and hold and comfort me. I can’t stand the thought that he’ll never love me and that he never did.


I’ve been making a bad habit of getting drunk and crying over this boy who never loved me, of longing for just one more night spent in his arms, of aching for all those kisses that will never again transpire. And I can’t quite tell if I miss him because I’m drunk, or I’m getting drunk because I miss him but either way I know I’m sad. And I can’t quite tell if the alcohol numbs or intensifies the pain felt by a broken heart so I guess I’ll keep drinking until I figure it out. All he left for me were haunting memories and an emptiness that permeates my being. The spaces within and around me he no longer occupies are painfully obvious, making my loneliness inescapable. And while I’m left with only my sad self drowned in tears and the bottle, he’s got her in his arms and her in his bed and her in his heart and he will never be lonely.


– Jade Alexandra

LOL I Got Nominated for a Liebster Award???????

Hello friends apparently I have been nominated for some sort of award for my blog which is weird because I either don’t do anything on here at all or I just complain about my life and tell you how many times I’ve drowned in my own tears since the last time I published a blog post. So I guess I should say thank you to Ponderings of  a Youth for finding my incessant estrogen driven ramblings even remotely interesting. Apparently this is some sort of chain-y type e-mail thing where I’m supposed to pass on 11 new questions to 11 new blogs without big followings so that…I don’t know…we formulate internet community and interest in one another’s blogs by finding out more from one another??? I’m not really sure. I am sure that I suck at chain things and I obviously suck at my blog because I’ve had this Liebster notification thingy for probably weeks now. Anyway, I’ve been asked 11 questions and I am going to answer them. So here goes.

1. If you were shipwrecked on an island and you could pick someone to have with you on the island who would it be? Name and relationship with your answer and why you picked that person.

I’m not going to get into the issues I have with shipwreck questions, I’ll just say that even though I know they’re hypothetical, something about them annoys me. Moving on, I’d probably take…..well it honestly depends. How long are we stranded on the island? Forever? A few weeks? A few months? A few hours? If it were only for a few hours, I’d hope to have my best friend and roommate with me. It’d be fun to chat and lay on in the sun on an island together. However, unlike me, she can’t spend hours at the beach doing absolutely nothing and she’d get bored and irritated easily which wouldn’t be fun for me. So if it were for anything longer than that, maybe my brother or my other best friend, who are more laid back and relaxed. We’d sunbathe and swim and explore talk and laugh and talk about books and stories and art and music and maybe make music and art and stories if there are materials for doing so on the island. I mean we have to do something to keep busy, right?

2. What kind of music really moves you? Singer? Song?

Really any music can move me. Obviously, the most impressionable songs are the ones that pair ingenious/believable lyrics that express something important and mean something to you with music that accentuates the feeling/emotion/expression that the artist is trying to present. When the music and the lyrics come together, it’s an unreal, inspiring, moving experience. But still, it is dependent on something interesting and unique about the song as well, the melody, the way the person sings, how they pronounce certain things, the length of the song….I don’t know. There are so many factors. Regardless, for me, one example of a song where it all just comes together is Lazy Eye by Silversun Pickups. I also find the song Midnight City by M83 really moving as well. Then there’s my favorite artists, Lana Del Rey for example, who move me all the time but in a different way. The other songs are more standout impressions while Lana or Arctic Monkey’s AM album are moving and impressionable and relatable (and really really good constantly). Music’s confusing.

3. What do you like to write most?

I don’t know. It used to be fiction, but now I’m jotting out a lot of poetry because for me it’s quicker and easier to express my thoughts and feelings in that way when I have 20 million other things going on with school. But my poetry is terrible. As is my fiction. Sooo….what I like to write most is my thoughts at 4 in the morning or between classes. That are also terrible. HAH.

4. Who is your favorite author and what book of theirs do you like most?

Keeping in line with my terrible writing and literary skills, I don’t really have a favorite author. Oops? Like, I don’t know. I just like to read. And I know what I like and even the stuff I don’t always like usually I enjoyed reading. Maybe I haven’t read enough of multiple authors multiple works for me to really know. Honestly, is the author that important? I mean, yeah they wrote it but I guess I value what they wrote more than I value them? Does that make me terrible? I mean, currently my favorite book is The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but does that make Stephen Chbosky my favorite author?? I’ve read all of John Green’s works but I wouldn’t say they’re my favorite or that he’s my favorite….but if I had to choose my favorite of his it would be Looking for Alaska.

5. How did you become a blogger?

I sat down. Opened up my laptop. Typed “wordpress” into Google. Navigated to the site. Clicked “create account.” Chose a blog layout. Named it. Posted on it. Done. I became a blogger. Anyone can do it. If you’d like to know WHY I became a blogger, go find my first ever post.

6. If you were to die in one week and had to write your last blog post what would it be about? What would you title it? How long would it be?

I’d probably title it “BRB DYING, RIP TO ME LOL” and then go on to cry about how I don’t want to die and that I’m not ready and that it’s unfair because I’m a whiny selfish baby who thinks she’s entitled to life and eventually finding love and happiness and success, none of which are promised nor guaranteed for any of us which sucks. Knowing me, it’d probably be too long as I am terrible at keeping things concise and essentially write my stream of consciousness without editing. Also, if I was truly to die in a week, maybe I wouldn’t want to spend an hour writing on my blog. If I only spent 5 minutes on it, then I’d have all that other time to spend with my friends and family and maybe going to Disneyland one more time or getting one last embrace from the asshole who doesn’t deserve to be both the first and last person to kiss my lips.

7. What is something about someone you know that you absolutely hate?

Don’t get me started. I guess I hate that I know that a certain asshole both cares about and is attracted to me but is choosing not to spend time with me anymore for reasons that are beyond my understanding. I hate that said asshole told me one thing (ex: lol bye I don’t want to kiss your face anymore) but is doing extremely contradictory things like telling me he still wants to kiss my face. MAKE UP YOUR MIND YOU STUPID POOP.

8. Dogs or cats? Why?

Dogs. Loyal. Cuddly. Cute. Friendly. Unconditional love. Come in all shapes and sizes and personalities and levels of cute.

Cats. Give me allergies. Aren’t friendly. Aren’t loyal. Are suspiciously neither solid nor liquid. Are creepy. Are cute only on the internet.

Sooo umm…..yeah. Dogs all the way. If you’d like to know, I have three yorkies and they are the most adorable things on the planet.

9. What would you name your kid if you had one?

Seeing as generally the male species purposefully ignores my existence, I doubt I’ll ever get to this point have you know, having a kid to even give a name. Maybe I’ll adopt. I’m not sure. I’m just not at the point in my life yet to think about babies. I do like guy names for girls though.  So you  know, maybe if I had a girl I’d name her Dylan or Ryan or Blake. And I really like the name Beck for a guy.

10. How many times has writer’s block pained you and what gave you the inspiration that saved you?

Lol, like literally every day? As far as my stories/novels are going I’m still in a writer’s block and there is no inspiration. Typically, I can’t write anything unless I’m uber upset. If I’m happy and loving life, hell I’m not writing about it. I’m out there enjoying it. It’s only when I’m sad that I’m all like boo-hoo let me write and vent my feelings like waahh I’m an angsty teenaged baby. So yeah. Essentially heartbreak. Or other sad things give me the push to write. Typical.

11. What annoys you more, when someone says ‘like’ after every sentence or someone who has to insert profanity into every sentence that comes out of their mouth?

Either in excess is annoying. I don’t know if there’s a worse one. There’s unnecessary swearing, but I probably let profanities slip too often when they’re not needed. And there’s unnecessary “likes” but then again, I am a (half) white girl living in Southern California and I’m not gonna lie, my lingo is definitely sprinkled with them. But really, if you’ve ever tried not to say “like” when talking, you know it’s hard. We all do it.


Soooo yeah, there are my questions. I know I’m supposed to like tag more people now and comment on their blogs and ask 11 more questions, but I honestly do not have the energy. Maybe on another day. I really don’t even follow that many people to even have bloggers to choose from? I told you I’m bad at this blog thing guys. But, this was a good challenge/topic for a blog post so I encourage anyone who reads this, aka all 0 of you, to if you so feel inspired by this question thing to either answer these 11 questions in a blog post or come up with a few yourself so your followers can get to know you. Because, you know. Friendships and connections and interwebs. Yay.

Sorry for killing this award thingy by being a stick in the mud.

– Jade Alexandra

Alcohol, Beach, Sleep: The Cure-all Recipe

Hello friends, are you still here? I survived. I’m alive. Hooray! (I think).

Anyways, its continued to be rough, but you know, right now I feel okay. I’m coping with it, I got a handle on it at least for now. Even though this week has sucked, the week before was spring break which was great. I got to road trip up to Northern California with my roommate. We stopped in LA where I got to be part of a cool modeling event. Got paid to get pretty and walk down a runway and have people ooh and ahh at me. And then got free drinks at the cocktail party that took place afterwards (fyi; my raspberry martini was much better than my parents’ sparkling white wine). After spending the night in Redondo Beach we drove up to her house in Sacramento, bummed around there for a few days before heading over to San Fransisco. I had never been to upstate before and San Fran was really cool. We shopped and explored and ate really good food. So that was super fun. And after a few days there we drove back down to my good old Sandy Eggo for school. Being back at school was so hard. Spring break was such a tease and the weather has been great. Its hard to want to be in class studying.

Speaking of teases, a certain someone I know is a little bitch and I’m currently pissed off at him. I’ll eventually forgive him for being a huge jerk to me and making me cry off and on nonstop for roughly 24 hours because I’m pathetic but whatever. Last night was great cuz I got to go out and party with some friends; danced, laughed, got maybe just a lil tipsy and didn’t think about him once for the whole night. Today I slept till noon, bummed around on the beach, it’s been great. I don’t know if there’s much alcohol, sleep, and the beach can’t fix. And writing can be a fix when nothing at all helps which is how this dumb lil poem came about:

Do Not Fall in Love with a Magician because He Will Rendezvous with the Other Showgirls and Saw You to Pieces 

Can you show me how

You smile without smiling?

Can you tell me why

Your eyes won’t stop twinkling?

Can you explain to me

The magic in your touch

That makes your calloused palms

Feel like silken wonders on my skin?

Can you reveal to me

Your secrets of seduction?

Your claims to captivation?

Where is the trap that hides your heart?

What is she doing up your sleeve?

Don’t release me like the rest of them;

Show me the mirrors so I can see

Through your sultry smoke and haze

To the man behind the act

Who doesn’t need sensual smiles

And tricky twinkles to live and love.

Can you show me how to love you?

Can you tell me how to save you?

I’ll stand beside you nightly,

Lie next to you every evening

Volunteering to be impaled

Because I’ve found its worth being

Kept in a box and cut in pieces

If it means you’re the one holding the saw.


So yeah, I’ve definitely been terrible at keeping up with this blog. I apologize profusely for anyone who cares. If anyone has desperately been awaiting a post from me I am deeply sorry, though I doubt anyone like that truly exists because I am a piece of shit writer with nothing important to say! But it’s cool. I need to do this for me anyways. The more I write, the better I’ll be (hopefully). I may or may not be one of those people where the phrase “practice makes perfect” just doesn’t apply because I’m really that bad. Regardless, I’ll do my best to be better at this whole blogging deal. I hope you all have survived the past few weeks with me and that if not you can get yourself to some alcohol or the beach real quick cuz otherwise I don’t know what else to tell ya. Best of luck, know that I’m right there with you.

– Jade Alexandra

Shaved Legs Gone to Ruin

Well, my legs got to have their grand moment. And what a moment it was.

San Diego blessed me with enough warmth that no table flipping was needed. And though my legs didn’t quite get to shine in the sun, they glowed in the dark. And who would have known that moments of pure happiness and bliss could so quickly turn to those of sadness and self-loathing. That in a days time, the sun, the ocean would be completely gone and instead of rays of light, clouds of fog and swirls of wind would consume my world and my heart and head. That my tears would be just as constant as the rain. That my legs would become as dull as the sky.

I mean really, who would have known that sneaking around with a no good boy would end up being no good? Stupid me to not suspect that the no good boy was literally and actually no good at all. I’m a fucking idiot.

Southern California is in a drought, so we need this rain, we need this storm so everything can be happy and fresh and clean and green again. But until then, everything is drenched in ugliness and misery. The trees are drooping under the weight of the rain and being snapped in half and whipped around by the relentless wind. What I can see of the slate grey sea is that it is choppy and angry. The rest is a blur; grey clouds, grey wind, grey rain, grey cold. I’m blinded by the blustering elements. They’re violently thrashing at the windows, trying to force themselves in. The rain, like a dagger, to slice me up, the wind, like a noose, to strangle me.

If San Diego can make it through the next four days, hopefully I can too. But my storm is forecast to last much longer. I want to come out fresh and happy and green and clean on the other side as well, but I don’t know if it’s possible. This year I’ve experienced a lot of change, mostly in myself. I’m not the person I was a year ago, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve shocked myself and I’m confused about what it even means to be me, Jade Alexandra. What do I even value? What to I believe in? What are my limits? Who the hell am I?

I never thought I’d be at the place I am today, or done the things I’ve done. I’d hoped that the first time I said, I would be at some special event as the guest of honor, accepting an award for my accomplishments. But I don’t know if the things I’ve done or the place I’m at could be seen as an accomplishment. But I can’t decide if I’m failing myself either.  I can’t determine if I’m disapointed in myself for who I’m becoming, or simply just feeling the loss of an old me. Change is good, they say. But change can also be for the worse.

I do know that I used to think of myself as a strong person, and I don’t know if I am anymore. I’m constantly unsure, constantly failing, constantly weak. I used to know what was good and bad for me, and was sure of those decisions, but now the lines are blurred. I want to be able to look at one of my current situations and say, “This is bad for you. You’re damaging yourself in more ways than one. You’re just going to get hurt later.” I want to say to another, “Stop whining and complaining. Buckle down and deal with it. Stop being a pussy, suck it up, and work hard. Do your best.” But I can’t.

Mostly I just don’t want to do anything I’ll regret. But how do I know I’ll regret it until after the fact? Do I live life in fear of never taking any risks, never putting myself out there, never doing anything in case I may regret it later? That could be a regret in itself. I need to just live my life the best that I can, and if I make mistakes, then I make them and I figure it out later. But I can’t help but feel I’m consciously walking into multiple mistakes and yet at the same time, I’m over giving a fuck.

The conflict I’m experiencing is unreal. I’m confused and lost. And I don’t have anything to tether me down, any place to find my footing, anything I’m sure about. It’s been a rough three weeks indeed.

Fortunately, the storm seems to have calmed for now, and writing this post seems to have calmed me down as well. In a few hours I’m going home for some much needed rest and relaxation and time away from the problems that are haunting me here at school. Out of sight, out of mind right?

Nope, pretty much no. 90% sure I’ll be crying all weekend too.

– Jade Alexandra

Shaved Legs Gone To Waste

What can I say? It’s been a rough few days. I’ve cried about boys, cried about homework, stressed over homework, considered changing my major, considered dropping out of school, got ditched by my friends, and now I’ve shaved my legs for no reason.

You know what I’m talking about. You’ve all had plans that didn’t pan out. You were  gonna go out or see someone special so you showered and shaved your legs so they’d be baby soft and beautiful so you could have the absolute best time. And then just as you’ve finished smoothing the lotion into your silky skin, you get The Text. “Sorry, something came up, let’s do it tomorrow instead.”

And there it is: shaved legs gone to waste.

No one but you is going to get to see or experience your gloriously smooth leg limbs that could give a beluga whale’s pearly skin a run for it’s money. Instead of being shown off while dancing or at dinner, or getting caressed by caring hands in a romantic corner, your legs get stuffed under a desk or into sweats where they cry sad, lotion-saturated tears at the fact they’re forced to be hidden away.

But, it’s whatever, right? They’ll still be smooth tomorrow. Maybe not the same level as imported hand spun golden silk from exotic Chinese silkworms but, you know, what little prickle there is will be almost nonexistent. Almost. Ugh.

And you know, it’s not just the legs. It’s all the other preparation. It was the shower and the hair and the makeup and the outfit and the getting homework done ahead of time. It was the expectation and the anticipation; all that time washed down the drain with my dirt and sweat and tiny little leg hairs.

I’m telling myself to not be too upset. I should just enjoy my legs myself until tomorrow. (Because you can’t put off something twice, right?) I’ll bask in the glory of their silken shine and pet them gently since no one else will and enjoy the feel of fresh sheets against them tonight as I fall asleep. But on top of the sad weekend and the awful Monday I had, it’s hard to take what pleasure I can from this. I just can’t catch a break. I’m trying to keep my chin up, I’m trying to stay positive, I’m trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m trying to tell myself that this is all worth it, that it will all work out in the end, that everything will pay off. But I’ve been telling myself these things for so long and everything is still so hard. I joke about drowning in the amount of stuff going on in my life a lot, but it’s literally not even a joke. I’m getting consumed by everything and it’s taking it’s toll. I’m getting swallowed and I fear I only have a few gasps of air left to suck in before I’m held under and forced to indefinitely hold my breath until I die drowning or somebody saves me. And by looking at past experiences, it’s not likely anyone’s coming to save me.

Tomorrow my slightly duller legs will get to have their grand moment. They’ll still be smooth and things will turn out fine. Maybe not how I wanted them tonight, but much better than them not happening at all.

You know, as long as it’s sunny and warm. Goddamn it San Diego I swear to god if you give me cold clouds tomorrow I’m gonna flip a table.

(Stay tuned for my impending  table flipping meltdown. Bring popcorn.)

– Jade Alexandra

In Love with the 80’s

In true Jade fashion, I was feeling a bit of an 80’s vibe again today in terms of dress. Surprise, surprise. However, today I went a bit more Cyndi Lauper than schoolgirl punk. Bright colors, patterns on patterns, denim, Docs, a voluminous side pony and colorful statement jewelry make the look (though if I had lacy socks and pink Docs it would have been even more perfect). Today started out sunny and warm so the skirt and tank were perfect until the beautiful sunshine disappeared behind buzz-kill clouds who forced me into a cropped denim jacket.

photo (2)

(please excuse my dirty, makeup covered mirror that is giving the appearance of globs of mascara all over my face and legs)


Head to toe:

Pink statement earrings: a lovely gift from mi madre

Teal tank: purchased at Tilly’s for $4 in an Xl in the kids section aka perfect example of how ridiculously cheap ingeniously thrifty I am. It actually has a peplum bottom, which I tucked into the skirt. Its a super bright color, which is relatively abnormal for me as I’m usually drawn to black, neutrals, or muted darker colors but it’s a fun change. It’ll be perfect for spring/summer if it ever starts warming up.

Denim jacket: cropped, lighter wash from Old Navy years ago. I’ve worn the heck out of this thing and it’s still going strong.

Polka-dot circle skirt: found in my dorm’s community stash/donation bucket at the end of last semester. Super cute, super funky, super fun. And most importantly, super-free. Gotta love quality hand me downs.

Polka-dot scarf: used as a belt and gotten from who knows where who knows how long ago. I’ve had a few of these scarves since elementary/middle school when they were all the rage and I still work them into a look every now and then. Its hard to tell in picture but there are pink, green, teal and black polka dots all over it, literally tying in all the rest of the colors in the outfit. Ha ha, get it? Cuz it’s tied?? Okay ignore me.

Doc Martens: my favorite. Always my favorite.


Anyways, in other news I’ve just been plugging along, drowning in homework and tears and DayQuil. On top of everything I got super duper sick last weekend. I was so miserable I thought it was mono and skipped class on Monday to go to the doctors just to have them tell me it looks like an average viral infection I need to wait out. Cool. I think I’d just been overexerting myself; too much work, too much stress, and too little sleep and it all just caught up with me and caught my immune system off guard. I feel much much better today though, which is great. Because it means that soon I’ll be more productive with my schoolwork, actually be able to enjoy myself at the school’s dance tomorrow night, and maybe spend some time with a certain someone who will no longer be held at bay by my sore throat germs, dry cracked lips, and cough syrup breath. Hooray for being healthy and coherent and attractive and kissable again!

– Jade Alexandra