Tag Archives: appreciate

Chocolate Croissants

Like any hopeful beauty, she dreamed day and night. But what she saw was not just a happy ending. No, it was much more than that. She saw what she wanted and needed with all her heart. It wasn’t to make or add to her happiness but to enhance it.

At night, amongst the many paintings and countless stories, she laid in bed. She didn’t see the white picket fence with flowers blooming all around. She didn’t see kids running across the yard or hear a baby crying through the window. She didn’t even see her own fame and glory. What she saw was not what everyone told her to dream.

There was a dog though. He slept on an old worn out leather chair he had claimed when he was a puppy. They tried to throw it out but he had hopped up on it and sat there like a royal king being carried around by his loyal subjects. The picture is hanging on a wall if you don’t believe it.

There was a man too. He didn’t claim a chair, instead he slept in the bed beside her holding her close. Yet, throughout the night, he would toss and turn either curling up in a ball, lying on his belly or submerged in the sea of blankets. It wouldn’t be for long though.

Because in the morning, he would wake up, stretch out and glance down to see her curled up in the crook of his arm. He was checking if she was awake or still drooling along his chest.

Of course she felt his subtle movement and stirred in her sleep. A dampness would reach her attention and as she moved to wipe her mouth, he would chuckle softly.

Embarrassed, she quickly tried to hide the evidence but it would always be too late. He caught her and even though it was a hassle to wash his shirt every day, he didn’t really mind. But, he never would admit it. He took too much pleasure teasing her about it as she tried to hide her actions by rubbing her eyes or pulling the covers up to hide her beautiful face.

Still, the top of her head would peak out tempting him to lightly tussle her hair. And as his chest rose and fell, she brushed her face against him purring all along.

Once he would stop, she would climb atop his waist and peer down at him. A smile would brighten her eyes and the final rays of the early morning sun would push through the blinds. He would check the time and the dog would begin his morning stretch before clumsily walking over to poke his nose between the sheets.

The man would jump away from the cold wet nose only to pat him on the head. She then would rub his ears just the way he liked it.

The satisfied pup would then curl up on the rug just below them and patiently wait as the man taunted her out of bed with the idea of coffee and sweets. It sounded good to her but it wasn’t until he said the magic phrase that would finally pull her out of bed. Chocolate croissants were always a weak point of hers and he knew her well.

They shared one final kiss in the misty morning air and that would always be the moment her eyes would flutter.

It wasn’t just a dream any more.

© 2016 Jessica Santos


Something About Summertime

It’s summertime for students and teachers alike. A time when everyone hangs out with their friends, significant others, and family.

I drive down the street and see several couples holding hands, kissing and laughing in merriment. Then, I get home and see my family and old friends who offer a sense of familiarity that you can’t get just anywhere. Everything seems to flow like the ocean that meets my toes.

Until, summer turns into weeks of repetition, stress for work, worry for tough classes and the inevitable question of “what am I doing with my life?” There’s just something about summer that everyone looks forward too but end up regretting their wish to be granted.

I’m currently in the middle of my summer and even though this is all hitting me, I still see the sun, sand and cool ocean water. After all, it is the little moments that one must hold onto. The hardships we face only heighten those brief seconds so that we may remember them as hours.

So as I curl up alone in bed missing the soothing warmth of my significant other as he is off at work, I smile as I remember the kiss he gave me when he said goodbye hours ago. It only lasted a second but it held a promise to love and cherish us the next time we met.

With that, I plan an outing with some friends to dump our worries in the ocean as we dive off a cliff and into its magical wonderful abyss.

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Pay Day

You can see her during the week
Working harder than any other
No one knows why
It’s a shit job after all
But she works her ass off
Making sandwiches to order
Scrubbing floors of their filth
And when she’s not there
She scrambles from class to class
Jotting down every other note
Eagerly taking in every word
Her hours are packed to the minute
Yet, on her one day off
She awakes at the crack of dawn
Listening to the steady rhythms of a soft beat
They echo her own
And when he awakes
Neither move to get up
He only tucks her deeper into his arms

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Reality Check for the Parents of a Grown Daughter

Dear Parents,

Contrary to popular belief, I am not the baby any more. I traded in my baby fat for a pair of tits and an ass however big they are. I also somehow got a monthly bloody visitor thrown in the mix. She can be quite annoying, but oddly enough I catch myself anxiously awaiting her arrival from time to time.

Now, you may begin to think that this is just a “kid” whose acting out, rebelling or doesn’t understand the real world, but you are sadly wrong.

I’ve been hollered at by random guys, fending off the wrong crowd, fighting against peer pressure (even though at times I lost, but it did teach me several valuable lessons) and a witness to people walking in and out of my life. I admit that you probably have more experience in these fields, but you were once in my shoes. I’m sure you tried to have this discussion once before.

Regardless, I wanted to give you a heads up. I fuck, have a drink or two, and even experiment either with drugs or with life itself.

My goals haven’t changed though. I’m still working at being better than you (as you love to constantly remind me that this should be my number one goal). But, in order to do that, I have to gain more experience so that one day I can be in your shoes and warn my son or daughter against the very things I’m currently doing.

I promise that I’m doing this under my own consent and in full acknowledgement of what is going on. I know the harms of experimenting but I also see the many benefits as well.

Like I said, this is for my own good and I’m telling you now, because from my experience, it’s always better to be straight instead of beating the bush, even though figuratively speaking that can be very fun.

No matter what though, you did teach me to always be honest with you and more importantly myself. So see me for what and who I am now, not the baby who use to run around the house naked (though I don’t deny that I still do that on those hot summer days) but as a new and rising adult.

Oh! And if I happen to come stumbling through the front door, then please help me out like you would a friend. I don’t need the lecture. I’m fairly certain I’ll be pretty pissed at myself for getting carried away, especially when that hangover hits me.

But, until then, love me for me and know that I’m in college now. It’s time to “broaden my horizon” and give a toast to life.


Your Loving ADULT Daughter

Three, Four, Five Week Shadow

The weather is starting to warm up here and I am beginning to be faced with what use to be a difficult question to answer: Should I wear shorts today?

I’m not asking because it might rain or get cloudy but I have a different issue. Most would just tell me to go shower and take care of it but it’s not that easy.

My legs are like a man’s face. Whenever they get shaved or waxed, I can expect the hair to start popping out by the end of the day.

So, guys, I feel your pain and struggle, but here’s the thing, you can’t begin to image mine.

For you, if you don’t shave then there is no harm in that. Now a days, I look around and find that many guys support the “five o’clock shadow” or even the actual beard. One doesn’t typically hear about a guy being harassed or bullied because he has facial hair. Maybe back in high school or middle school when we were all immature but that was just ridiculous. Hair to a guy means that he is maturing and becoming a man.

But, for a chick like me, seeing hair anywhere but on the top of my head and “kitty” is a big NO. Momentarily it’s a sign of maturity but it soon becomes a nuisance.

Most guys I talk to say they don’t care, but society as a whole deems it to be unacceptable. Having a bush is even beginning to fade out as it is often considered to “get in the way.”

Don’t ask me what they mean exactly because as far as I’m concerned, they have a length that can definitely “push through.” Its not like I have dreads down there. Yet, I know a guy would argue the point of going down on a chick and pulling away with “floss.”

Yeah, that is annoying and embarrassing (especially for the chick); but hey, if your chick goes down on you, then consider the fact that she’s shoving however many inches down her throat and trying to hold back a gag or two.

Before I go any further down that rabbit hole, let me make it clear that I’m not here to argue who has it “harder” in the bedroom (or wherever else you have your “fun”). I’m actually just trying to make a point about women and hair, especially hair on one’s legs. So, let’s back track a bit.

Should I wear shorts today?

Simply put, yes I most certainly should. Because, like it or not, I have hair on my legs. I could shave, but I get everything waxed from the waist down every four to five weeks. Personally, waxing lasts a little longer and is a little more effective in weakening the hair follicles.

Granted, I’m going to end up with two or three weeks of noticeable hair on my legs, but I’ll take the compromise.

Don’t click away just yet though. I’m not done.

There are two more factors that makes this question difficult:

1) I have dark colored hair.

2) My hormones are out of whack.

I know some of you may think this is a strange response but let me explain.

The first point is pretty straight forward. Everyone knows that blond chicks or light haired girls have it lucky, because they can go a little longer than us dark haired girls. Their hair tends to blend in a little better with their skin. Us dark haired girls have these tell-tale black/brown lines running across our legs and other problem areas (lips, arms, “kitty”, etc.)

Now, in regards to this second point (or third point depending on how you’re counting), I don’t want to scare you, your girlfriend, wife, or whoever but having a hormonal imbalance can cause abnormal hair growth (as well as other things but this depends on every individual’s condition).

To be specific, having one’s male hormones be slightly higher than normal for a chick can cause abnormal hair growth. For me, this means that the hair on my legs grows back faster, but it also resulted in my little tiny happy trail along my tummy.

Luckily, all the guys I’ve been with (except for one jerk) have all been extremely supportive and did not ridicule me. Though, I do not deny the fact that my current partner (not the jerk) loves to “pet” my legs when they begin to grow out.

At first, I would hide my legs under the covers or wear pants all the time but now I’ve grown more accustomed to it. He’s also a major part of why I’ve come to accept it. (Having been tested for a hormonal imbalance also helped too.)

The point I’m making though is that society and you have to accept who you are. Embrace yourself or anyone who dares to brave the world with their “special” features. It is a part of who they are and I’m fairly certain that there is no on or off switch for how “bad” it appears. Furthermore, I’m pretty darn sure that everyone (even the so-called “perfect” guy/chick you’re crushing on) has some “special” trait.

It’s what makes us unique.

So, instead of suffering from heat stroke this summer, understand that there is more than what the eye sees. The sun doesn’t discriminate who gets to play bare and neither should we.

© 2016 Jessica Santos