Hey friends! Currently hanging out at a restaurant 2 hours outside of Paris in between touring champagne vineyards just writing to let you in on a sale that my favorite online retailer, Shopbop, is having from now until EOD (11:59pm Pacific Time) Sunday!
No minimum just savings!
Happy shopping!
This blog space is usually pretty photos and as few words as possible, not ever really getting into the day to day stresses or struggles. It’s partially due to the fact I actually do not like writing, in fact, most times, I loath it so much I think “wouldn’t a photo gallery only be more fun?!” Some posts are put off way more than they should for that very reason-adding words. But, I’m going to attempt to put the distaste aside and open up, because I think it could be therapeutic for me and right now, I need it.
On this day 11 years ago I got in a car accident that would forever change both mine and my at-the-time boyfriend’s life, forever. We were young and dumb and then, we were broken. Him way more so than I. Here’s how it went down-
Started with a road trip down to FL for camping on Port St. George with my bf and some of our friends, all being dudes. It was a fun (blurry) couple of days then a storm came. Our tent was massive and thus a wind trap and eventually blew down and we decided to call it quits and head back. The guy riding with bf and I suggested stopping by Auburn to complete our Spring Break with fun and not an unfortunate series of events. We were down. While at the mutual friend’s apartment more drinking and recreation happened and then tensions got high. I was so over sleeping on the ground, over being around a particular a-hole and ready to leave. Then said a-hole was antagonizing my bf and then later called me a bitch and that was that, I had had enough. We were leaving, I was driving, it was fine, I had it. So we left him there to find his own way home and we set out.
From Auburn to Tuscaloosa it’s 2.5 hours. Doing the math later I figured out we left around 3am (dumb I know, remember, young and dumb!) So around an hour and a half in I started getting very sleepy so I asked bf if he could take over. He said he was fine so we switched at a gas station and kept going. Now in Birmingham about an hour from my house on HWY 459 reaching about 70 MPH he fell asleep at the wheel, over corrected and we started flipping down the grassy median. I was asleep in the passenger and woke up with the strongest force I’ve ever felt propelling my body over and over in different ways but also being secure in seat belt. The sunroof had shattered so grass and debris were getting in and the noise-that was insane-it was almost like in the movies where things are so nuts that it gets quiet and slows down in a weird slo-mo way. We finally stopped flipping and luckily were right side up.
Witnesses had pulled over and started running over to our car to see if we were ok. That was when I realized exactly what had just happened. I looked over at bf and he was slumped down to his left almost hanging out the driver window, blood streaming down his face, and completely still. Still to the point I thought he was dead. I started screaming his name, asking the people around the car if he was alive while they were trying to keep me calm and get some information until the ambulances arrived. Then, came the pain. I looked down and registered the fact that my ankle was badly broken. I gave the samaritans my mom’s number and before I knew it she was there, helping me keep calm. The ambulance arrived, loaded me up, cut off all my clothes including my new Marmot jacket that I fought them over, and hauled me off to UAB hospital. I asked non-stop about my bf. Was he alive? Will he be coming to the hospital soon? What was happening?!
I was rushed into surgery for my ankle. Got some screws and both my tibia and fibula put back together. Then woke up and kept asking the questions-where was bf? was he alive? someone tell me what’s going on! That’s when I was told he was alive but in bad shape. The rescue team had to get the jaws of life to pull him out and they discovered the roof of the 4 Runner had broken his neck. His injuries were a c2 and c3 break of the neck, deep wound above forehead, broken left arm and broken ribs that were collapsing one of his lungs. He was in ICU and would be for several weeks. After that information settled in and I realized, oh yea, it’s my 20th birthday…I started complaining about my right knee. I was in agony! Mom got a doctor to come in and look and low and behold, they missed the fact my knee cap was sitting on the inside of leg. ACL completely destroyed and MCL torn. Because they had missed it and it was technically a post-accident injury and not to mention the fact the health system is jacked, I had to wait to file this injury.
Yes, wait.
Wait to get something fixed for over a month that occurred during the original accident and was missed by doctors.
So they put me in a knee immobilizer and told us to sort out insurance and get it handled when we could asap. My right leg was completely immobile with the cast up to mid-shin then the knee immobilizer from there to mid-thigh. Besides a concussion, some cuts, bruises and scratches my right leg was my “only” injury. I’d realize later this would be a never ending battle with pain and anxiety. So following the knee discovery and getting the run around from the hospital I asked to see bf. They wheeled me down to ICU and the repercussion of a decision that I made for us both was clear. I was sick with guilt. From my wheelchair I just stared. Stared at a guy I loved laying there with tubes and bandages and a neck brace and all the beeping. It was so much equipment keeping him alive. But he was alive. And we were going to get through this together. Or so I thought.
The days following are obviously a blur. We went by the car to get some personal belongings and I saw what we survived.
You can see a wounded, still in hospital scrubs me trying to grab CD’s and clothes through broken glass and mud and bf’s blood all over the car. Disturbing so just beware.
Weeks later bf was released, a month later I got my knee operated on so it was back to the hospital and back to under the knife and then after all that we started physical therapy. I went through four solid months, 3-4 times a week but he dropped out a month or so in getting discouraged with the progress of his left arm. Going back to his injuries, the c2 and c3 of the neck are typically the breaks that’ll cause paralysis. But luckily he only suffered from his left arm being immobile with the possibility of getting it back. Years later I would find out his arm is mobile with some disability in left hand fingers but with the ability to grib being much better.
I was a sophomore at Bama and opted to stay in school and just try real hard for some decent grades. I attended class in a wheelchair getting help from friends that would offer up their time and vehicle. Bf and I were not healthy healers. We partied and tried to continue our fun life of fun times all the time. It backfired. My grades suffered, my health suffered, my relationship with my friends and family suffered. We were toxic for each other. But truth be told I felt a loyalty to stay with him while he healed because I felt completely responsible. He would have never left Auburn if it wasn’t for me. He wouldn’t have driven if it wasn’t for me. I made those decisions and now we both suffered. I stayed with him as long as I could until I finally realized he wasn’t on the same healing path that I was and I cut ties. We both got better with many, many bumps in the road and then came the guilt. He began to hate me and lash out with guilt. Years went by. We both dated other people. But the guilt was still there. I wanted and needed to be forgiven. Eventually I was, we made peace with one another and we’re both “fine” 11 years later.
But are we? Am I?
In 2009 I was in agony, so much widespread pain. Not just in my right leg but both legs. All the time. Hurt to stand for long periods of time, hurt to walk a lot. So I went to a doctor. He told me I had fibromyalgia. No. That’s not real, you just can’t find out what’s wrong with me. Yea, I have injuries but I work out, I eat well, there’s something else. Appointments and tests later, same answer. So I tucked it away and said, “alright, you gotta just man up and deal” so I did. Then came another bad accident in May of 2015 after Memorial Day weekend in Daufuskie Island when an 18-wheeler cab didn’t break and ran into the back of the car I was in the back passenger seat.
Seriously? Another freaking car accident?
This one yielded lots of chiropractor appointments, bad neck pain, a pinched nerve in back causing pain in back and numbness in legs, more physical therapy and more anxiety. Year or so later when I’m technically healed from all that the constant widespread pain got more unbearable. I needed new answers. Went to a rheumatologist who said “you have what’s called fibromyalgia, have you heard of it before?” Shit. Seriously. This again?! You don’t truly know so you diagnose me with this again. Defeat.
So this mystery condition that doctors don’t quiet understand paired with lifelong anxiety equals straight up frenzy. My mind is a constant battle of “am I dying?” “should I bother having kids, I’m in so much pain?” “what’s my life expectancy going to be like” and so on. Yes. It’s dramatic but you tell someone with chronic pain and anxiety disorder to calm down it’s ok, you’re fine, it’ll be fine…well, you see what happens!
Thus, I (wo)man up. I take on each day’s pain and just try to remind myself how grateful I should be. I’ve tried so hard not to be that person that is always complaining about it. I try. I am sometimes not that person and I know people think “Ok Jess, we’ve got it, you hurt daily.” But I don’t want to be. I want to be that chick who survived a terrible accident and at the end of the day am stronger because of it, not weaker. My body doesn’t always want that and is currently revolting against me on this 11th year anniversary. Feels like my legs are growing long, like how growing pains felt as a kid paired with restlessness and tenderness of the knees. My lower back is also achy. This is why I changed the plans of my 31st birthday tomorrow from skating (ouch!) to bowling (old lady status..) Getting older has been so awesome and rewarding. I’m a homeowner, happily married, love my job-but it also comes with suddenly needing glasses and icing different body parts after what I’d consider a simple workout. But again, every birthday is a gift and this achy 31st tomorrow will not be taken any differently. Thanks for reading and getting to know a little more about my dark side.
I hope that I do use this space to open up more, be more honest about good and bad days and maybe even connect with folks out there that are feeling or dealing with the same. This blog is meant for pretty photos and recaps of fun times so it’ll be more of that and not diary status but I’m happy to have finally opened up about a guilt-stricken difficult time that has shaped me into the nearly 31 year OLD lady I am today ;P
Went on a lady date with blogger babe Sara back in July and per usual snapped a ton of pics then, not as typical, did absolutely nothing with them. For no reason at all just put on the back burner. That ever happen to my bloggers out there? I can’t say it happens a lot because I’m always looking for content, however, I do have another post I never shared but will be next up. Hint: smoothie bowl!
After the huge success of their Inman Park location Barcelona Wine Bar opened it’s second Atlanta restaurant around this time last year in the back of the old Atlanta Ironworks development.
Barcelona is thrilled to bring the best of Spanish food, culture, and style to Westside Ironworks. The restaurant’s mid-century modern architecture is the perfect representation of Barcelona’s contemporary and bold aesthetic. Strong horizontal steel roof lines held in place with over-sized steel columns, and factory pendant lights pay homage to the historic Westside industrial district. For those who enjoy dining under the setting sun or a canopy of stars, the expansive and lush garden-style courtyard features a rustic outdoor wood burning fireplace and extends into the bar area through two large steel and glass vertical sliding doors.
Gazpacho | Barcelona Wine Bar | Westside, ATL
Don’t judge, we shared!
Spots like this make me proud to call 30318 both my work and home neighborhood!
Bet you’re wondering what the “news” part of the title is…..
**DRUM ROLL**
We’re actually GOING TO BARCELONA, SPAIN!
And Madrid!
AND PARIS!
Next month from 4/3-4/15 we’ll be between the three cities. The first half is Spain with Dustin’s parents and youngest sister and then we’ll split off for the France half. We’ve been excited but now that it’s getting close, it’s becoming more real! None of Dustin’s family has been to Spain so that’ll be new for everyone but this will be Dustin’s third time going to Paris. He’s declared it his favorite foreign city and has been wanting to take me ever since we got serious. Pumped to see his excitement showing off all the places he loves!
To say “I’m going to eat all the cheese, drink all the wine and take all the dang pictures” would be putting it lightly!
For our Valentine’s celebration we got fancy in our neck of the woods hitting up The Optimist in Atlanta’s Westside. Truth be told, we went earlier than we normally would so that I could capture everything. Dustin totally gets it though I’m not sure the people around us knew what was up… The atmosphere and presentation are just too stinkin pretty to experience a third time and not finally get some shots!
Madewell jacket and jeans, Baggu purse, Bussola boots
I wore a shirt I picked up while buzzed shopping in Santorini late one night. Def paid wayyyyy too much for it but I couldn’t get over it’s unique construction *keep scrolling for better view ;)
The restaurant has lots of seating options to accommodate whatever type lunch or dinner you’re trying to experience whether it’s hopping over for $1 oysters or throwing down to celebrate a holiday or special event. I’d like to go and hang on the oyster bar side which is less formal but equally as stylish as the big open side.
Ford Fry’s The Optimist brings a seaside fish camp experience to landlocked Atlantans. From fresh oysters from the Alabama coast and Maine sea scallops to whole roasted Georgia trout, guests enjoy high-quality, sustainable seafood from the country’s best suppliers. Tucked in an old ham-aging house, The Optimist serves up beer, wine, and handcrafted cocktails with hickory-roasted fish and raw oysters, while beach-food classics like hush puppies and lobster rolls transport you to your favorite coastal haunts.
EL CAPITAN | Amaras mezcal, Ancho Reyes chili liqueur, broVo chocolate, Giffard orgeat, lime, sea salt, star anise
First things first. WE LOVE MEZCAL. Yep, that needed all caps, it’s that much love. Both of us could drink it neat but when it’s offered in a cocktail-even better.
Much like our marriage, we shared everything <3 Started with oysters from the South and East Coast and Spanish octopus.
Look at that beauty └໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७┘ What… I didn’t keep that shell to take home and show Flynn (our cat)…and definitely didn’t put in with other shells and stones…
CHARRED SPANISH OCTOPUS | crème fraiche, marbled potatoes, chorizo, chimichurri
Not going to act like I’m some kind of rising food blogger chef star I’ll just say, nom nom nom! And add that the crispy grilled end was the tastiest part!
OPPORTUNIST PLATEAUX | oyster, king crab, shrimp, ceviche
This mahi and snapper ceviche was an explosion of flavor every*single*bite. I voted it and the lobster the best I’ve had of both ever and that’s saying something since I’ve had them in both Mexico and Greece! (humble brag much….)
Didn’t save room for dessert so we settled with a nightcap then went home and watched Lady Gaga music videos (sharing our glorious singing along skills on IG story) and sipped on champagne. Life is good with this one <3 *looking at you Dustin!
And because I couldn’t get dolled up (for me this is dolled, I’m pretty casual most days!) and not get Dustin to risk his life in a busy cut-through, here’s some more photos of my look:
See you again soon you delicious and beautiful restaurant youuu :*
and see you on Instagram <3
Goodbye 20’s!
Hello 30’s!
Today I begin a new chapter of life. My 30’s. I’m not scared or upset, I’m more amazed, hahah. How did thirty whole years of ME go by so fast?! It’s nuts to think about all that’s happened in life and what’s still ahead. In the spirit of a birthday, a new year, I’d like to reflect on my twenties.
Dear 20s,
First of all, thank you.
Thanks for the dang good time! And for the relationships (especially meeting and marrying my sweet Dustin!) and friendships (new and OG’s!), ALL the parties and festivals (I could go on forever about all the good times had at various houses, clubs, open fields, backyards!), the fashion “trends” (shout out to all those horrific outfits! some of which landed here…) the pets (especially Tater who experienced 6 years of my 20s) 8 of 9 of my tattoos, the rentals I made my home and making A T L my hometown and on a serious note strengthening my relationship with my mom and learning to be a survivor.
It wasn’t all parties and young freedom bliss. There were the real life lows. The very start as a twenty year old was rough. Lying in a hospital bed in Birmingham, Alabama with a newly put back together ankle and a torn ACL the ER failed to notice after a very bad car accident on highway 459. Not how anyone should spend a birthday (or regular day for that matter..)
But it was then I learned the real meaning of being tough. Leaving the hospital a survivor, returning to school in a wheelchair and beginning a long road to recovery was a hard lesson to handle. And I didn’t handle it well. Took some time being too wild, too selfish and not the best student but after a while, turned myself around. For all the lessons learned, I am grateful. All in all, twenties, you shaped me into the lady I am today and will be into my thirties.
Tonight we are having a big ole house party with a low country boil, friends and I hear fireworks may be in the mix – 30, LETS DO THIS!
