Wednesday, November 19, 2014


Add this to the ever-crumbling wall of dating standards: guys don't want to take girls out anymore, they just want to come over to a girl’s apartment or vice-versa.

Because that's closer to the bedroom than a bar. Duh.


And guys don’t understand the problem!

(Wait, you don't LOVE going over to strangers' houses alone???!! What??!!) we haven’t seen horror movies or after-school specials.


Also a major problem: guys today don’t know how to read. Text messages.

Exhibit A: from my friend Aimee who sent me these screen shots between her and Sam, a guy she met at a bar one night and he got her number.

(This conversation was over the course of an hour.)


Have a nice life


"not sure what I did to piss you off.”


Like she didn't explain it twice.


"Are you SURE he graduated from college?" I asked Aimee. "Because he can't read. And his reasoning skills are very poor."

I mean....Ur weird...really? for not wanting to come over to a random dude's house?

And who doesn’t know the proper definition of creepy???!?!



So, yea....that crumbling wall?

Let’s slam Sam into it.


Tuesday, November 11, 2014


First of all, happy Veterans Day to everyone who has ever worn a military uniform. 
Every year, I find it more poignant what military men and women go through and what they sacrifice for their country, and they have my utmost respect. 

Speaking of respect.....

Let’s talk about this complete HORNBALL CREEP my friend Katie went out with a few weeks ago.

Chris was really cute and nice for about four minutes until he grabbed HER ASS and pulled her towards him to try and kiss her.



They actually met in the cutest way possible—at the grocery store. 

It could have been a perfect story for their grandchildren: Katie saw him in produce....she walked over and asked him about radishes...they talked and he got her number.

Happily ever after, right???!!?


Katie was so excited to meet Chris at this cozy little wine bar a few days later on a cold Saturday night and was pleasantly surprised to find he was as good-looking as he was standing among the organic fruit. 

She sat next to him and ordered a glass of wine and FOUR MINUTES LATER, right as they started chatting about real things like jobs and where they were each from, Chris started getting hands-y.

Katie said he put his HAND ON HER ASS to move her body and her chair closer to him and kept side-hugging her.

“Ummm...ok let’s slow down,” Katie said, as she pulled away.

Then he tried to make out with her.


NEWSFLASH: A girl does not want to make out with you after meeting you for 30 seconds. 

She can think you’re cute, or be interested in getting to know you more after 30 seconds, but she’s not interested in making out.

(If she is interested in making out with you after 30 seconds, she’s drunk.)

Katie was not drunk. Barely four sips into her wine and she was growing more and more disappointed in what she thought would be a nice connection with a cute guy who shops organic.

She kept pulling away from him, trying to get the message across, but another NEWSFLASH: Hornball creeps don't get messages.

She kept bringing the conversation back to non-sexualized territory...oh, you’re from Connecticut? but it always came back to his hand on her ASS. 

And he just parked it there!! His hand resting on her ass.

(I envision the cringe-worthy couples who would put their hands in each other’s back pockets from the 80s).

How awkward

Katie said that any conversation was completely USELESS when she realized this 31-YEAR-OLD GUY couldn’t keep his hands off of her, like he’s been in prison for the past ten years or something. 

And she said he wasn’t even drunk!

How disrespectful!
Did he do this with everyone???

...Because she gave him zero indication that she was interested in that type of behavior. 

She was wearing long sleeves for crying out loud.

That’s when she said Chris gave her yet ANOTHER random side-hug but this time his hand found its way to her left boob instead of her waist. 


“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Katie yelled pushing him off immediately and fixing her shirt. “You can’t just GRAB MY BOOBS!”

“But they’re so...big!” Chris said.



He didn't even try and deny it!!





Was he a high school guy at prom?!?!? 

He was 31 years old!!!

The cops could very well have been called.

Katie told him she was going to leave when Chris—the HORNBALL CREEP WHO DOESN’T GET MESSAGES—actually said....actually said, “Well, do you want to come to my place for a nightcap?”




“NO,” Katie said and she should have left right then, but she waited to make sure Chris was going to pay the tab for her one glass of wine. 

(Was he cheap AND a creep?)

He did pay, but not surprisingly, Katie said Chris asked her 13 more times if she was “sure she didn’t want to come over.”

“I’m not exaggerating, he asked me 13 more times after I initially said no,” Katie recalls.

Chris then asked her, “Why not? Did you have a bad experience going over to some guy’s house?”





And then: “Please come over. I’m BEGGING YOU at this point,” he said.


Riiight, super hard decision. THEY’D KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR 35 MINUTES. And he groped her for 31.

It was shocking. 

SHOCKING that Chris was walking around as this seemingly normal guy when he clearly has major problems.

Hornball creep problems.




Or better yet...stick your...CARROT...into a food processor and put all the ladies out of their misery.



Friday, November 7, 2014

Earth to Jenny

I’m trying to do yoga, but think I’m too cynical for it. It's literally impossible for me to clear my mind and chill out.

I even lit a candle and everything!

In my defense, it’s been a stressful week. I said goodbye to my twin sister, Joy, as she moved out of our house and in with her fiancé on Sunday, I’ve been up all night working on deadlines and I haven’t slept well.

I keep dreaming I’m crashing cars. 


But every night, I’m driving another car. And another.

In my dreams, I actually leave the scene of a car crash that I caused only to get into another car and I crash that one, too.

(I may have a budding second career in an arena, the kind where people have to wear protective ear wear.)


Yesterday, I decided to do yoga.

It calms you down, people said. You’ll be ‘one with yourself,’ people said.

And since I have a phobia of group exercise classes (and vividly remember the time I was dragged to a yoga class once and someone farted and everyone had to pretend they didn’t hear it and I couldn’t focus on anything else), I did an online yoga video.

The free kind. In my bedroom. By myself.


Since it was for beginners, the moves were pretty much all stretches, and yes, they felt really, really good, but I couldn’t get over the yogi talk.

The crunchy yogi talk that people parody in Hollywood movies. 

The online instructor was a living, (heavy) breathing stereotype.

Right when I was feeling good about my pretzel-like contortion, she told me that I only have integrity of my body when my heart is over my pelvis and my pelvis is over my feet.

“What?” I thought to myself as the candle began to flicker. When is my heart ever NOT over my pelvis, and over my feet?

(And P.S., I thought integrity of my body was telling a dude on a first date that I WASN'T going to be sleeping at his house...hey-ooooooo.)

The instructor also abandoned the word “ground” for the word “Earth.” For the whole 28 minutes.

Rise up from the Earth. Keep your feet planted on the Earth. Feel the Earth in the four corners of your feet.

I bet she believes in fairies.

I looked down at the Earth my rug, noticed dog hair, and frowned. 

Then I spent the next five minutes thinking about dog hair, whether or not I should cut my own hair and whether or not I should start wearing makeup.

GREAT, NOW I HAVE NO INTEGRITY OF MY BODY, I thought as I bent over and my heart was well below my pelvis. (It is possible!)

After the video was over, I was warm and loose, but only physically. I was unconvinced about my place in the world.

Also...SHOULD I cut my hair????

People the internet says that I should do yoga for a full seven days before deciding if it’s right for me, which I found suspicious because the website I used has a six-day free trial period.


But last night I didn’t dream about crashing a car! It was a Ford Mercury miracle!

So back to the dog-hair-rug-Earth I go.

Namaste, ya'll.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014


My friend Tara went to a work conference a few states away and met a very cute musician who was also from out of town. 

Hank the musician bought her exactly two drinks and then said he’d like to spend the night in her hotel room.


His “I want to stay in your hotel room” request wasn’t a lust thing. 

They weren’t on the most incredible date in the world or all over each other or anything. 

Tara got a feeling that he just needed a place to crash.

“,” she said. “I don’t bring strangers to my hotel room.”

It was a simple and eloquent response to a dipshit request. 

Tara said Hank was put-off, but he seemingly respected her decision (hahahhahaha foreshadowing). 

They exchanged numbers anyway—“maybe I’ll be in your neck of the woods one day,” he said—and then he left the bar, probably to find another bar/bed to sleep in.

Sure, Hank was cute, but she was not that kind of girl. And he was a stranger in a strange city and that’s how people end up chopped up into tiny pieces in a gym bag. 

(I need to stop watching Forensic Files before bed.)

A few weeks after Tara returned to town, she got a text message from Hank. 

“Hey I’m in town playing a wedding, do you want to meet up?” he asked.

Tara was pleasantly surprised. 

The cute guy was texting her! 
And he hadn’t even asked to crash at her place!


“Sure!” she wrote back. “Where are you?”

When he told her, she frowned. He was 45 minutes away. 


But Tara hadn’t met anyone cute in a while and wanted to see him again, so she drove the 45 minutes. 

She got to the wedding location at 5:30 and they took a walk around the gardens.

After a few minutes, Hank said, “I have a sound check in 30 minutes.” 


He didn’t mention that when she was stuck in traffic coming to see him.

“Oh...really? That sucks,” she said.

Then they sat in awkward silence for a second and then Hank spoke up.

"So, do you remember that night when you turned me down to sleep in your hotel room?"


Turned him down.

"Umm...yea," Tara said. 

"Well, I met someone else that night and slept in HER hotel room and we are just TOTALLY SMITTEN and I think it's going to be a long-term relationship," he said. 


"So I wanted to say thank you."







"Excuse me?" Tara said. "You had me drive 45 minutes just for you to tell me that you're 'smitten' with someone else?"

"Well, yes. I wanted to be honest," he said. 


And then Hank left to go to his "sound check," leaving her in the beautiful gardens alone. 



I've been trying to think of a point for Hank doing this.

Was his EGO really that bruised that he had to "get back at her" somehow?

I mean, was she supposed to feel bad that she hadn't jumped on the chance to sleep with him? 

("Hey, if you had played your cards right, baby, I could be talking to a girl who played me about how I'm smitten with YOU!)


What a massive asshole. 

What a douche!

How about NO, thank YOU, Hank. 

For showing Tara that she made the absolute right decision that night.

Thanks for turning me down. 


You are welcome, Hank. 



Tuesday, October 21, 2014


My friend Renee has this ongoing problem with a guy she broke up with months ago about him going around town telling other guys “not to mess with her.”

No, he’s not in high school. 
He’s almost 40.


Normally, this would simply be an eye-roll situation, but Leon and Renee both live in a small town where this type of warning gets around quickly.

And Renee, who is very interested in meeting someone who doesn’t act like he's in high school, said she began to notice all these cute, available guys suddenly become really stand-offish with her.

When one particularly cute guy Renee had been flirting with for weeks walked right by her one evening with barely a nod, she asked a mutual friend to get information.

“Oh...yea, Leon told me to stay away from her,” the cute guy said. “And I’m not trying to get involved with drama.”


Neither was Renee!

“Stop telling other guys to stay away from me!” Renee shouted on the phone to Leon. “What are you doing? ‘Marking your territory??' We broke up!

Leon denied doing or saying anything, which was beyond frustrating since, at that point, a handful of other guys in town told a similar story with a similar warning.


I know. It seems weird that Leon seemed to have so much influence over other guys in their teeny tiny town. 

I mean, wouldn’t guys think Renee was MORE desirable for being “off-limits?”

Don’t guys like to be competitive like that? Not when they’re GROSSED OUT.

Because AFTER Renee yelled at him for scaring away guys, Leon went a step further. 

He actually walked into the most popular bar in town one night and ANNOUNCED, “Yea, I’m still wearing my work clothes even though it’s 9 at night because I was at RENEE’S HOUSE having SEX with her ALL AFTERNOON AND ALL EVENING! 

Newsflash: No he wasn’t.

"Haven’t gotten home to change.”



How mortifying! How disrespectful!

So now, all the young, hot guys at the bar now had the mental image of Leon and 



No less than five guys in town reported the “ALL AFTERNOON, ALL EVENING!” story back to Renee.

“It’s not true!” Renee kept saying. “We’ve been broken up for months! I don’t know why he’s doing this!”

It was a good question.

I mean really, WHO DOES THAT???

First of all, it wasn’t true, so he was lie-sabotaging her. 

Second, don’t guys leave that gross bragging in the high school locker room??

He’s ALMOST 40.

But even if it was true, who walks into a bar and loudly announces they’ve been hooking up with someone for the past six hours? 

Announces that to strangers???? 



Stuff him in a locker.


Monday, October 20, 2014

How my twin sister got new legs

MAJOR LIFE ANNOUNCEMENT: My twin sister Joy is engaged!!!



And for some reason everyone is oddly asking ME how I’m doing.

“Did you know?”
“How are you feeling?” 
“How are you doing?”

“I'M THRILLED!” I say wholeheartedly, wondering what the fuss over me is all about.


(I choose vodka...and Chaka Khan.)

“I’s like you’re losing your left leg,” was my friend Meredith’s thoughtful interpretation.

“What?!??!” I said. 


I thought about that analogy for a while.

The thing is, Joy and I already had practice missing a leg.

When I moved back home to New Orleans in 2010, leaving Joy in South Carolina, it was a heart-wrenching experience for the both of us. And as shaky as we were on our ONE LEG EACH, she quickly found support in Daniel.

Daniel, a brilliant scientist who is also from New Orleans, who...ya’ll....actually went to high school with Joy but they never spoke back then, has, for the last several years, been Joy’s new leg.

A worthy replacement.

I suppose I didn’t have to necessarily go anywhere for her to find a new leg.

Because maybe that’s a good analogy for marriage anyway, finding someone who helps you walk through life without letting you fall too far backwards or fall forward splat on your face.

And over the past few years, during numerous visits and especially now that I moved back, I’ve been able to witness how their relationship formed and developed and got stronger and how they really balance each other out. ( many leg references.)

Joy and Daniel both get each other. They’re both comfortable around one another, they know each other’s nuances. 

If that game show “Newlyweds” was still on TV, they’d win all the points and they’re not even married yet.

They make each other laugh, they both go out of their way to be kind and sweet to one another.

But the most wonderful thing about Daniel, in MY opinion, is that he’s a perfect support system...even supporting the fact that Joy has had a perfectly FINE leg for the past 31 years and it will never go away.

She just found a new one, one she can stand comfortably on, one that she didn’t even know she was missing. And now not having it would be crippling.  

When Joy flopped on top of me yesterday, waking me up from my nap, like she always does, I was about to shout, “my alarm is set already!” but then she exclaimed, “Daniel and I are engaged!”

Somehow I knew it. When she told me that she and Daniel were going to take a sunset walk on the beach with their dog (“his idea”) I thought in my head, that’s....super romantic.

TWIN E.S.P.!!!!

“I knew it!” I replied immediately (because, really, this is all about ME haha) 

We both screamed and Joy was happy crying and shaking and overflowing with love because she had long decided that Daniel was the person she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

For the rest of the night, I saw her staring at her beautiful ring, the one engraved with the words “hand in hand”....SWOON...and saw her tearing up looking at it, so glittery and shiny and perfect.

I know it sounds weird, but their entire aura has changed. They were closer than I’ve ever seen them before, grinning from ear to ear.

“You know you’re going to be my maid of honor, “Joy said immediately, then quickly added, “I mean, I don’t  even have to ask you.”

I know people are asking ME questions because Joy and I are twins and best friends and have always put each other first.

And now Daniel will come first, because that’s what happens when you marry someone.

But I’ve long seen this coming, long seen how they look at each other—sometimes ignoring the outside world for a few seconds—always meaning what they say and saying what they mean.

(And one just gets a new leg without their old leg approving...come on people.)

So I tear up NOT BECAUSE I’M A SAD BRIDGET JONES, but because I’m so happy for Joy for locking in her fairytale. 

I tear up because I’m sappy, and this is the truly the happiest news we’ve ever experienced. And everything is going to change in a wonderful way.

I bought her a bridal magazine to thumb through last night and they toasted with champagne and I truly, truly, truly can’t wait to see how the world will unfold next.


May you walk on always, together, forever.


Tuesday, October 7, 2014


Boys can be so MEAN. (FYI: I just realized that “mean” is really “men” with an extra vowel hahaha)

Also mean? Massive work deadlines that I’m under, so I CAN’T write a long Toolbag Tuesday story today with a moral and everything.

I know...I’m so mean.

But what I CAN do is post notes from Toolbag Tuesday submissions I’ve received that have NO moral.

The ones with a certain WTF quality about know, where I don’t want any more information.

So without further ado, I give you: MEAN BOYS COMPILATION, TAKE 1:

1.) He dutch-ovened me on a one-night stand and then stole my shoes. (Ed note: hahahahaha I actually should get more information about this.)

2.) Immediately said
"don't tell Britney about this" after we hooked up (Britney is my best friend.)

3.) I planned a very sexy celebration weekend for his birthday and found out at dinner that he had actually gone out for his birthday (on the actual day) but I was not invited.

4.) Flew back to visit my long-distance boyfriend for the holidays after almost six months away and asked him, “So what are we doing for New Years?" And he said, "As of now, I’m going hunting."

5.) He had a ticket to go to France and then broke the news the day before he left that he was actually going to visit his ex-girlfriend there. He promised they were just friends and he’d email me all the time. I got one email from him, of a photo of a busted statue from a museum with no subject, note or description. He never called me again even after he returned.

6.) Picked a fight with me because he said I “cut green onions wrong” when I was making us nachos and it made him question our entire relationship.

7.) Found out he was picking up men AND women on Craig’s List, only because I got a notification that he changed our Craig’s List password. He was using the same account we had used to sell our sofa.

8.) Hooked up with a guy and the next day had a mutual friend/co-worker of his find out if he liked me, and he told her that he was actually secretly in love with her and asked her out to dinner that night.

...I mean, can there possibly be a moral to any of these??? 

Other than....just DON’T do any of these things, because they're really, really mean??

It’s common sense, really:

Don’t steal your one-night stand's shoes.
Don’t pick up people on Craig’s List.

..And make your own damn nachos.

Got a Toolbag Tuesday story? 

Email me at

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