From the Mind of Jane

STARTING TOMORROW

I’m going to start a long, arduous, important journey towards a happier me. Thank you society for making me hate myself enough that I’ve decided to do this. *eye roll* “Desperate times” and all that.

Wait … What?

That startling moment when you come back and find your dashboard dominated by skulls, horror, and almost-porn. *le sigh*

Tumblr… SO many reasons we make not good bedfellows.

Just a Random Scene. - Blog Story Starter?

She walked to her door, pausing only to assess her appearance in her hall mirror. She had spent hours on her hair, her make up. It had taken over twenty combinations of clothes and weather assessments to finally pick out her clothes. She’d been looking forward to that night for weeks. Her calendars in her kitchen, office, and all her devices had been marked and glaring. It was the night she was hoping would change all nights, make her other ones all worth it. For every tear she had ever cried thinking she wasn’t good enough for anyone after her last fiancee had died, she planned to spend two minutes enjoying herself and proving her worth. Things had seemed so dark and colorless for so long, thoughts had begun to leech into her thoughts; her insecurities seemed to mocking her, lording over her.
Flinging the door open with a smile, she stepped back, a decision firming within her to go through with this. He was a great guy: sweet, charming, funny, successful. Almost as though he were straight out of a romance novel. She waved him in, hiding her trepidation as well as she could. With the ease of someone much more well acquainted with their surroundings, he moseyed into her apartment to wait the few moments it took for her to finish gathering her things and gazed around her living/dining area.

As soon as she’d finished, they left and spoke in comfortable triviality as he wound his car through the streets of the city. Doubt ate at the edges of her wavering confidence. Was she too dressed up for this? She’d attempted to dress as neutrally as possible since she had no idea what his idea of “dinner” was. He seemed quite casual, but it was difficult to tell if she had gone over the top or not as of yet.

As they walked into the restaurant, she admitted to herself that she was impressed. The restaurant was cozy, filled with warm hues of golds, mellow reds, hints of burghundy, and serene greens. It was a nice Italian place. Perhaps a little more upscale than she had originally thought, but she didn’t feel out of place. A smile began to light her face in equal parts relief and anticipation.

  Following at his side, they traced the path the waiter wove for them through the crowd and tables, but as she caught sight of their destination, her grin and her hopes fer the night began to falter; the latter more so began to plummet from their heights. Another woman sat there, blond, blue-eyed, her leisure and appeal accentuated and complimented by her flattering figure and expensive, casual looking dress. She was perfect, angelic and alluringly demonic all in one. How could she compete with that? She was just a writer! She sat at her desk all day, answering people’s heart-wrenching letters for her advice column to stave off the ache left after her fiancee’s untimely demise.

Shaking her head, she put on a welcoming face and decided to stay, endeavoring to remain optimistic even while her sense of self-preservation begged her to just leave and keep some of her dignity intact.

“So you must be Genevieve,” the blond purred, standing and extending her hand.

“Yes, well, everyone calls me Jenny,” she replied, shaking the woman’s hand more firmly than intended. “Have we met?”

He chose this moment to pipe in, “Piper, this is Jenny.” he waved in her direction, his nonchalance cutting her for reasons she couldn’t quite place; they were too closely related. Turning to her, he reversed the introduction and added, “Jenny, this is my very close friend, Piper. When I told her that we worked so closely together she insisted that I introduce you. She’s a great fan of your work.”

“Will, don’t be so modest,” Piper laughed. Her teeth were absolutely perfect. Was there anything about this woman that wouldn’t kill her self-esteem?

An almost pained look came over Will’s face, “Piper, please—”

“We’re engaged, and I’m simply in love with your work, in and out of the paper.”

Jenny’s heart stopped. Her ears felt clogged with cotton after that; she wasn’t sure what words it was that her mouth formed, but she hoped it was a decent enough excuse. Her hand was on her stomach, and she was nearly stumbling back toward the door. How could she have been so mislead? She was on the sidewalk by the time Will caught up to her.

His hand was on her arm and his face showed, if not concern, most certainly a certain amount of compassion. “What’s wrong? Why are you leaving?”

“I—I just don’t feel well, Will, I’m sorry.”

“You were fine a few minutes ago! Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Piper was going to be here, but I thought you wouldn’t agree to come since you haven’t really done anything with anyone lately unless it was one-on-one so—”

“So you thought it’d be okay to lie to me?”

She turned away from him, feeling like one of her fans and writers who send in the letters that are obviously tear-stained and smudged with their grief. She heard a sigh, behind her and a half-muttered curse. “Ah hell, you actually thought that this was—Christ, Jen, I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“Yeah. Well, too late for that now, huh?” She raked her hair back from her face, appalled when she realized too late that her face was wet. “Shit… Ugh, you know I think I’m just going to go home before I lose all my dignity.”

“C’mon Jenn,” he pressed, “Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, okay? I thought the guys were joking when they said you were interested; I thought you knew. Look, I’m paying for dinner, you might as well come in and have a decent dinner.”

Rounding on him, she gave him the full force of her glare. “No. I will be like that. You purposely led me to think that this was a date. And in case you failed to notice, I don’t have contact with more than a few people at a time, so I’d never know you had a fiancee unless you told me. And because you have no idea exactly the kind of havoc you’ve just wreaked on another human being, I’m going to leave and let you mull it over. I won’t stick around just because you want to score with your fiancee by getting me to meet her.” She stuck her hand out to flag a taxi down, shaking her head. Her heart had been right, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t worth it. She was just a heartbroken writer. “Just do me a favor and treat her better than you’ve treated me, alright? People don’t deserve this kind of thing. And if you lose her like I lost my Jack two weeks before our wedding, you’ll regret every bad thing you’ve ever said or done. Humans aren’t novelty items. They have thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. That you could manipulate someone else this way just goes to show how ignorant you are of the world and the human condition. But then again, maybe that’s why you’re just our douchebag editor and I’m the writer.”

Art.

Not quite sure why, but I have been admiring a good deal of art as of late. My nana’s, that of other bloggers and residents of tumblr, DeviantArt. I have no clue as to what’s possessed me to do so. But it’s been entertaining to say the least. Anyway. I’m going to do some actual work now like I should have before I got on Tumblr and started burning through my waking hours.