In case you stumble across this while it's still a work in progress, hi! I'm Jessi and this should soon become a full portfolio and resume collection. I have too many crazy projects and jobs under my belt to stick to a standard, single sheet resume, so it may take a bit, but it should be finished soon.

And then I got stuck...

Shopping is one of those things that people seem to absolutely love or
absolutely hate. I tend to fall in the middle where I rarely want to
go shopping, but when I do, I like to have fun.

In the midst of last summer, I got a craving to go try on some new
clothes and maybe splurge a little. I had been working hard and
budgeting well, so I felt like I deserved the treat. I had the whole
day off and nothing too important to do. It was just me and the

At the first store, I decided to try on some things that were
completely opposite of what I would normally buy. After seeing them on
me, I remembered why I wouldn't buy them – they looked horrible on me!

There was the cute little baby doll top, which made me look pregnant.
The white fitted jacket I was sure would look great, turned out to be
fitted in all the wrong places. And the business suit I'd been eyeing
since I first entered the store? Somehow, it managed to turn me into a

Switching to my favorite types of clothing, I finally felt back at
home. Of course, I'd forgotten how "home" could mean "the place where
everything goes wrong." I should've been happy with the penguin look.

Instead, I grabbed a handful of shirts to try on and headed to the
changing rooms. The first top was a success. The second shirt was a
bit snug, but I tugged it on anyway. Looking in the mirror, I loved
it. "Finally something that looks good!" I thought. As I went to take
it off, though, my mind entered a slight state of panic.

I was stuck. The fabric wasn't stretchy and refused to budge one bit.
I pulled and tugged, twisted and turned. Yep, I even hopped around a
little. You know the dance you do when your favorite jeans are too
tight, but you're stubborn and insist they'll fit anyway? That was me,
right there in the changing rooms, with my head covered by the
built-in bra, my arms unable to bend any more, and my lower body
wiggling as though it might actually make a difference.

And that's when it happened. My phone rang. Did I mention that this
was a busy Saturday afternoon where a big sale was going on? The dozen
other stalls in that changing area were full of people chattering
about what outfits to buy and where to go next, and there I am, stuck
in a shirt, and unable to reach the phone to even silence it.

So I did what any good person would do in the situation. I dropped to
my knees, leaned my upper body forward to the seat to finally silence
the phone, and praised myself for earlier removing it from my jeans'
pocket and laying it on the bench.

With a final burst of energy from the adrenaline rush I'd just
experienced, I stood up and somehow managed to get the shirt off. My
face was flushed, my heart was racing, and all I could do was giggle
at what could've been a very big problem had I needed to ask for help.
I hadn't struggled to put the shirt on in the first place, but there
was no way it was going home with me after that ordeal.  In fact, I
didn't buy anything at all that day.

The finishing touch on my afternoon of shopping was when I heard the
little girl in the next stall over. I'd caught a glimpse of tiny legs
when I threw myself down to reach my phone, but it was her humming my
ringtone that made her stick in my memory. I'm just glad I didn't have
a really horrible ringtone!