The Power of 3

Ahhhhh, Disney World.

Where magic happens and dreams come true. Where couples, families, and friends get together to celebrate all the happy things in the world.

I had spent the day wandering around Epcot (alone) enjoying the....ummm...festivites (ie, beers) of the various countries around the world. (I was alone, where I went for my honeymoon, just days after a breakup.....don't judge my drinking! LOL). I carefully avoided the rides in fear of the "SINGLE RIDER" call and being forced to stand with the only other "single riders" in the park. You know the ones. We have all seen them and laughed a little first and then felt bad for it and told ourselves we are bad people and are going to Hell and we pity the rider a little bit then we laugh a little more. I mean really, who wears lime green tights (with a matching bow the size of something Lady Gaga would put in her head), with the Disney shirt they bought that day, a kick ass plastic visor (hehe), 4 yes count them 4 huge Disney princess necklaces, an Eor backpack, and their camera around their neck? Unless you are 4 that is......not 40, 500lbs, and smell like garlic (to keep away all the bad spirits at Disney???). So ya, I did not want to be a "SINGLE RIDER" and be thought of as one of those. Call me vain, go ahead, I'll allow it just this once =)

Then I passed Soarin. Which if you are not familiar is a ride that makes you feel like you are flying (or so I have heard, last time I was there...hmmm, for my honeymoon, grrr....it was not there yet). So, I was dying to ride it. After some pacing and much consideration I sucked it up and went in. It was an 80 minute wait. YAY! 80 minutes of everyone around me going "Who is she with? Do you think she is alone? Who comes alone? How sad. Poor girl. She's adorable (hehe) I wonder why no one is with her?" As soon as I got in line I was next to this older couple who immediatly reminded me of my Grandparents just from watching them. It made me smile. 5 minutes in, a group of Asian girls came barrelling through (pretending not to speak English...bitches) and cut infront of about 40 people. The normal me...feisty and a little pissy at times, would have said something. But....I was in the company of "my grandparents" so I kept to myself. Then the woman spoke her first words to me, "How rude!" Ahhh, and we talked the rest of the 75 minute wait. They were a great couple!

We got up to the front of the line and I was about to prepare to say good-bye because they were splitting people off when my Disney magic happened. The your kid asked the older gentleman how many were in his party and without even thinking he responded "There are 3 of us." 3? Did he say 3? As in, himself, his wife....and, OMG, he included me!!!!!!!!!!! No hesitation at all. "There are 3 of us." I smiled my biggest smile and thanked him so much for including me (holding back my tears because at that moment I felt so magical......cliche, but whatev, its Disney so deal with it!). He just smiled back and said "We enjoy your company, of course you are coming on with us."

Moral here.....sometimes the "Single Rider" just needs someone to reach out and say "There are 3 of us." It just might make their day =)

I love you, but I hope birds peck your eyes out

Break ups are hard. Very hard. Especially when sometimes you are not even sure why you broke up or if you made the right choice. You spend months sharing details of your life and your time with someone and then suddenly its over. Who do you call when you suddenly find yourself in your own personal Hell of eating lunch surrounded by birds and you need saving? You want someone to both comfort you in your moment of trauma and someone to laugh at you because really, it is completly irrational and you want them to make you feel better. Up until only days before this experience, you had this person. Now who do you call? If you are me, you decide that you are almost 30, mature, and can be adult about this so you make the call anyway. It makes you feel worse.

Have you heard of the 3 month rule? A married friend of mine told me about it. He said that when he got to be in his late 20's he instituted the 3 month rule. If after 3 months you do not seriously see marriage potential with the person you are dating then you have to cut them loose. After all, we aren't getting any younger, right? I thought about this a long time and thought it was harsh because what if you just don't know. I mean, I am divorced, I don't know if I want that again, is 3 months enough time to make a call like that, what if I cut someone loose too soon, what if I am having a good time and really like someone, what if they really like me, what if I just don't know, what if, what if, what if.......? How can you end something just because you aren't sure of what the future holds?

Enter my life......my recent breakup. I care more about this person than I think he will ever understand or ever believe. What hurts the most is that I know he will never see this either because he has cut me out in a way that it seems like I almost never existed. Truth is, I don't think anyone really reads this, but it is a way for me to say what I have to say. I questioned the decision to end this relationship more than I can explain, and I probably would never even have done so if things had not been brought up to me. I would have gone on being happy spending time together because the enjoyment of his company made me smile so very much. But in the end, that would not have been fair. As it turns out I felt that he was not getting what he needed from someone he cared about and due to circumstances beyone my control because of timing and situation, I cannot give him what he needs. I saw no other way, and it breaks my heart. It hurts because I know he is hurting and I worry, and it hurts because I didn't want our time to be over. I just didn't want to spend the forseeable future having the same argument about timing and situation when there was nothing we could do to change those things. He might have been willing to settle for what he could have now....actually, I am pretty sure that he was. I wanted to say, lets work it out then, lets just struggle through this and see if it gets better, but I could not find it within myself to do that to him. Who wants to be with someone knowing that in their heart they want more and need more. I care deeply about this person, but at the end of the day I am not enough. What I have to give at this point in time is not enough. I wish with all my heart that it was.....I want my goodnight call, I want to be enough. Frankly, I'm tired of not being enough, but timing is a lot in relationships and I think, for both of us, the timing is not right on this one.

So, while I wish the best and continue to worry and pray that God will watch where my eyes can no longer see I can only hope that under his pain he hopes the best for me too. There were very hurtful messages sent while I was trying to be mature and sincere and I understand that pain makes us do and say things we would normally never do, so I will not hold grudges (its not my style) and I hope that if this message ever finds its way to him he knows that I am a friend and always here to help. And really, I do care more than I am sure he knows.........

What a day, what a day, what a silly little day........

5 years ago this week I was preparing for what was to be the biggest day of my life. December 11th was my wedding day.

Last year at this time I was preparing for what was to be the saddest and hardest day of my life. December 11th was my divorce day.

Off the bat, those two days are dramatically different. For one I was with so many of my family and friends rushing around trying to get everything together so the first day of the rest of my life would go perfectly. For the other I spent it with far fewer people, but still preparing for a new “first day” of the rest of my life. The emotions felt on the 2 days were so vastly different, yet they are forever linked in a way that I cannot even begin to comprehend still at this point. December will always be about new beginnings for me.

I try so hard to see how far I have come in the last year of my life, but I cannot look back without feeling the pain of the date. You see, I picked December to get married because it has always been my favorite time of year. Christmas, the birth of Christ, my own birthday, the birth of a new year on the horizon….so many exciting times are in the month of December. I always felt it was the perfect time for a wedding….the birth of a new relationship. Now, I enter the month of December and I cannot help but feel a sense of loss. How ironic that I was assigned a court date for my divorce of December 11th---that my marriage certificate and following divorce decree have the same date on the top. My family told me this was a good thing, a fresh start. That doesn’t help the pain.

So, here I am a year later, at the beginning of a month that has always meant so much to me. It is no doubt going to be difficult. It is 1 year that I have been divorced. I will be entering my last year of my 20’s single and living at home. It will be my first Christmas morning waking up without my Grandma sitting there smiling at me with her cup of coffee in hand.

I have come a long way, and I am saying my prayers that I stay positive and I have faith that I will because I have good support and love around me. I am also taking a couple moments this Holiday season to appreciate the fact that it is ok to cry. I don’t often do that, trying so hard to be the tough one. This year I am not going to wallow by any means, that doesn’t do anyone any good, but I am going to let myself grieve for the things that I have lost. I am going to be thankful for the things I have to look forward to as well…..God has a lot in store for me, I just know =)

Hearing Test Day

Today we had to take a hearing test at work. There is this little van like vehicle parked outside the plant that we have to walk into and sit in a "sound proof room." I put that in quotes because if you were actually in the room you would know that you can hear the semi's passing by and the low hum of a machine running somewhere, probably keeping the van warm seeing as how it is only October but already almost snowing in lovely Ohio. No, I am not bitter at all, nor do I harbor any hatred toward Mother Nature for taking my Fall away and throwing me right into an early Winter. Sarcasm, my dear friend, I love you. But, as usual, I am getting sidetracked.

So, I am kind of a control freak. Slightly OCD some might say. I mean, I don't know what the problem is with wanting things done a certain way and having things in order all the time and making sure that you have an even number of things and that you check 5 times that you lock the car door when you get out and that the utensils are always perpendicular to the table and that people DONT TOUCH MY STUFF......whew, ok, whatever, that is all normal! But, as I watch my father on a morning like this, I know where I get it from. Ok, I have know all along, but I get reminded. He has spent the entire morning walking around with the schedule making sure that eveyone stays ontime for their test. Mind you, the schedule has been printed out and posted for over a week and we are all adults fully capable of reading a clock. But, around walks my dad, putting people in "the box" (which is in the van) and then "in que" (which is in the waiting area getting prepped so there is no lag time between). I mean, I would totally be doing the same thing, but this morning, it just makes me laugh at his anal retentiveness. He even is bumping people if he can't find them fast enough to put them "in que." God, I love that man.

I get in the box for my hearing test and the woman asks politely, "Name please?" When I respond Jenna Waltz, we get into a short discussion about name changes (because last year when I took the test I was Jenna Gibson---sounds very porn star like, I know, I've been told). She tells me a story about how she followed protocol a few weeks ago, and when a woman came in who was not on the list she asked if she changed her name from last year or if she was new. This womans response was not, "Yes, I got divorced, my name is different," as mine was. This woman responded, "Yes, last year I was Chuck." Wow, ok, not quite what you are expecting, lol. So right after this, the woman puts the things over my ears, gives me the button, and closes me into the little room. Now, I am supposed to hit the button once every time I hear a buzz, left ear first. Well, my head is racing with thoughts of the woman who used to be a man so I totally forget what I am supposed to be concentrating on the buzzing in my ears not the voices in my head. So after what feel like 3 minutes of silence I realize that I haven't pressed the button at all. OH NO, THEY ARE GOING TO THINK I AM DEAF!!!!! Really, I am just crazy and listening to the voices in my head! So, in a feverish attempt to "catch up" to the buzzing, I start pressing the little button like I am in the hospital and attached to a morphine drip that I just can't get enough of. Both are pointless because well, the morphine drip is set to only dose every like 10 minutes no matter how many damn times you push that little button and the stupid hearing test I have already probably failed because I was drifting off into Jenna land and forgot I was supposed to be concentrating. By the time we were testing my right ear I was thinking so hard about the buzzing that I was forgetting to breathe. When the door opened and I was done, I thought I was going to pass out from a lack of oxygen. Needless to say, when I get the results in a few weeks, my dad will pull me into his office and ask why I don't hear the buzzing that was there yet I hear buzzing that didn't exist. Do you think he will understand my explanation about Jenna land being a happy place to drift off to in the middle of the work day? No, probably not. How about the voices in my head? Again, maybe not. Hmmm, I have a couple weeks to come up with a good excuse.

The moral on this one folks: Stay in school. HAHAHA, I don't know, nothing to do with the story, but, well, it's always a good message =)

PIB Octoberfest

Parking for Jet Express: $20

Fare for 7 people (kids are free) for Jet Express to Put-in-Bay: $182

Lunch at the Boardwalk because you realize you have to pay just to get into the tent to see what food/drinks are offered and you think its not worth it so you decide to eat at the Boardwalk which is there every day anyway: somewhere in the $150 range

Price for 2 people to enter the tent to get good German pastries and perogies for those craving something from Octoberfest: $8

6 Perogies: $15 (yes, you are reading that correctly)

Cost of PIB sweatshirts that are not 75% off or something because it is the end of the season but Billy has to have them: $20

Cost of 3 lbs Jenna will put on because of the amount of chocolate she ate when all she wanted was 1 chocolate covered pretzel but went to purchase and was told there was a $10 minimum purchase when using a Credit Card (and yes, I was usuing my Debit Card because I never have cash). I proceeded to buy 5 chocolate covered strawberries, 2 peanut clusters, and 2 chocolate covered pretzels to meet the minimum and ate them all within the next 5 minutes. So, total cost: a week of running =)

Cost of Billy and Uncle Jimmy's face's when they realize that Octoberfest is not what we expected and that they spent a ****load of $ to have lunch on the Island and walk around in the cold when we could have been watching the Browns first win in real time in the warmth of the condo: Priceless

All in all, it was a super fun day because of the company of family and the memories created. We laughed and shared stories and talked and just plain had fun. But I guess you had to be there to witness the craziness of realizing that the day was not what you were expecting.........Ahhh, the fun of family =)

Moral here....even when life throws you a curveball, you take a swing and you still might hit one out of the park. IE: You never know what you are going to get, but you still can have fun anyway and you might come away with a winner of a day!

Oh Grammer How I Hate You

So I was looking over my posting this morning and was horified at all the misspelled words and grammatical errors. Wow, so sorry to my mom and sister who were probably thinking that they have filed we horibly. Or probably not because I doubt they will ever take the time to read this. Anywho, I am embarrassed for myself and will need to edit better before I punch that little orange "publish post" button at the bottom. Thank you.

Oh ya, P.S. I totally am borrowing a shirt from Pammy's closet today =) I love her =)

"C" is for cookie.....

I may have done something bad.

Ok, I am fairly confident I was mean.

Yes, I am certain I was evil.

As you might have guessed by the title of this blog, I like fashion. That might be an understatement.....I live for shoes and purses. If stilletos did not exist there would be no need for me to breathe anymore. I love everything about shoes: the way they look on your feet, the way they make you feel, the way they make a womans legs look fantastic even when she is only 4'10" (I mean, not that I would know from personal experience what it is like to be that short). And shoes always fit. On a "fat day" you can still put on your favorite pair of sparkly black Nina heals and feel good about yourself. Even your best pair of jeans can't revive a "fat day." Walking through a shoe department for me is like looking at all the things in the world that have the possibility of making me happy all lined up pretty with lights on them saying "Look at me Jenna, life isn't so bad, put me on and everything will be ok." Ahhhh.....sweet sweet dreams of Macy's shoe's........Oh shoot, wait! This was about me being evil! Crap! Sorry, got side tracked!

Ok, Focus! Whew, that was close, almost totally lost it for a moment. I'm back now, and my guilt is restored to my moment yesterday where I was evil. So, me, total fashionista =) Now, I am aware that I am not perfect. Do I make mistakes, yes. Have I left the house looking totally disheveled, absolutly. However, I try very hard to always always look my best. As my good friend Gina would have to agree with me, you never know when you are going to run into people you may know or the man of your dreams.....and you don't want either to see you looking like you just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was on your floor onto your body. (AKA, no going to the B-ville Starbucks without your prom dress, HAHAHA, right G). So, needless to say, I try to always be cute.

This has somewhat led to me becoming the "fahion go-to-girl" in my household. I guess watching every episode of "What Not to Wear" and idolizing Stacy and Clinton will get a girl a good name with the fam. A few years ago I was even shopping with my mom ( I think we were at Dillards) when one of the sales ladies asked if I was a personal shopper. Woo Hoo, bonus points for me! So, anyway, I am used to things being borrowed and my advice being solicited.

Yesterday morning shortly after 6am while I was snoozing (yes, I am a snoozer, you never want to sleep with me, I hit that dang button like 5 times in the morning) my mom shouted up to me, "Can I wear your new blue coat today, I am wearing a blue outfit and I think it would be cute." I think I vaguly remember groaning a yes. It is at this point that I must interject 3 statements. 1) My mom is gorgeous. Like really, beautiful. She is a very put together 50 something lady. I am sure many women are jealous of her and I only hope to look as good as she does when I get to be that age. 2) She 90% of the time looks fantastic and has a great sense of fashion. Her clothes are cute and a lot of the items (if I was small enough....keep dieting Jenna, you can do it) are things I would borrow. 3) She is "matchy matchy" While I would borrow a lot of her things, I might not necessarily put them together the way she does. For example: she insists that blue jeans go best with blue shirts. And that is she is wearing a red shirt she needs red shoes, and a red purse, and red earings, and a red ring, and a red necklace, and a red scarf and a red coat.......you get my drift. Oh, and the over-accesorizing is a little much. Now I have tried to insist that you can infact wear a black shirt with blue jeans and throw in, oh, I don't know, red shoes for shits and giggles, but this is all a little much to grasp. We are taking it slowly and following the advice of CoCo Chanel and removing one article of jewelry before you leave the house so that you never over do it. Ok, but I am getting sidetracked again, I just needed to give you the backdrop.

So, after snoozing half of my morning away I come downstairs to see my mom in what I can only describe as the worst outfit she owns (I am so sorry). She is hip and I love her dearly so I am sorry this is public knowledge now, but yes, the worst outfit she owns. It looks like something an 80 year old woman should be wearing. And I have thought that from the day she bought it. It is a pair of bright blue pants with a matching blue buttom up top that has some embelishment on it. And today she is wearing it with a blue scarf, blue shoes and some blue jewelry. Its bad. I take one look at her and say, "THIS is what you are planning on wearing my BRIGHT BLUE coat with?" She sweetly smiles and says, "Yes!" (Oh no, this is wear I am feeling bad again). Horrified, I shout out, "No, I cannot under and circumstances let you do that! You cannot borrow it. I cannot let you leave the house, in my clothes looking like COOKIE MONSTER!!!" She just stared at me. I continued, "I will not have people think I helped you pick this outfit out, and when you tell them it is my coat that you borrowed they will think I helped and I want no part in people thinking I okayed you looking like Cookie Monster. Mom, you can't be serious that you think this is okay!?!?!? Really? This is not okay!!!!"

I'm officially a bitch. I mean, I kind of thought that I might be, but this just sealed the deal.

I got to work, called my sister and told her the story....ya, she agrees, I'm a bitch.

I mean, I don't deny that I'm totally right in my opinion, it was terrible, and she really did look like Cookie Monster. I was waiting for Elmo and the gang to pop out at any minute and start to sing me a song about life lessons or something. But that didn't happen. All that happened was that I got home from work, apologized to my mom (who did infact wear the blue coat to work---she told me she was actually going to wear another completly fabulous coat of mine but couldn't find it, thought I hid it from her, so she wore the blue one out of spite), then felt bad that I was so harsh in my judgment. I should have expressed my distaste in a better way than calling her Cookie Monster (even if the shoe fit, LOL).

Life lesson for the day: There are nice ways to say what you are feeling without making it at someone else's expense. Even when you are trying to help, make sure you are not hurting someone's feelings.