Thursday, February 26, 2015

Banging it out in Austin, TX

A photo posted by Genevieve (@jennyjenny504) on

Yes, banging it out is the perfect description of the weekend I spent Austin, Texas for a bachelorette party last month, even though no one actually got banged (in the biblical sense) in our shared suite at the famed Austin Motel.

We certainly banged out our tolerance for Mexican food (there really should be a competition for most tacos eaten in consecutive meals), we banged out our livers (of course) and banged out Austin’s Sixth Street with our various tests to see how many drink shakers we could take home as “souvenirs.”

Moving on.

Four bridesmaids plus Angela, the bride-to-be, traveled to Austin from various places: South Carolina (me), Colorado (Amy) and New Orleans (Angela, Kristen and Kasie) because Austin is where Angela moved following Hurricane Katrina and she wanted to say HAAAAAAY (or, I guess, howdy) one more time before she leaves singlehood.

And she wanted all of us to see how wonderfully weird Austin was.

Case in point: I caught up with Angela for the first time that weekend in a train car...which was the women’s room at a country bar.

I had no idea that the entire "building” was actually a train car until I walked through the door to the women’s bathroom, turned around and saw that the wall was the side of an actual train.

A train, train.

Like the ones hobos jump on.

Once I realized this, of course I had to climb the nearby pole to the nook where the conductor would normally sit and yell various versions of CHOO-CHOO!!! even though I was nowhere near drunk.

For about 20 minutes, Angela and I sat the in the red crushed velvet conductor seat area, just two of us, hilariously talking about life, her wedding, South Carolina and New Orleans.

And even though I can’t remember the last time I even saw Angela, we picked up right where we left off

It was just like high school in New Orleans, laugh-snorting right there in the conductor’s box.

Choo Choo!

After we climbed down the pole and went back into the bar, I was immediately swept up by a man in his 70s named Gene who taught me how to do the “two-step” to the most talented band I’ve ever heard play inside a train car.

The other bridesmaids all clapped and cheered as Gene swept me across the floor, despite our two-foot height difference.

Over the next three days, I learned some fantastic things about Austin. 

First: You can’t get a bad meal there if you tried. 

Not that I tried to get a bad meal, but everything I ate—even a stop at a random hut to get out of the rain one afternoon—I had a tastier taco than most restaurants in South Carolina.

I even remembered how to properly say FRIJOLES!! 

I can’t stress enough how every meal was delicious.

Really. I mean, look at this:

A photo posted by Genevieve (@jennyjenny504) on

(Insert Homer Simpson drooling face.)

Announcement: I would like to give the honor of the Best Queso I’ve Ever Eaten (and I'm cuckoo for queso, y'all) to Polvos, this amazing restaurant in Austin that everyone knows about because there was an hour-long wait.

(Worth it.)

For that Friday evening, after a day of shopping and eating tacos at HUTS, we all changed into little black dresses and pearl necklaces (hehehe) and I learned another fantastic thing about Austin: Everyone I met was super cool, inside and out.

This includes the strangers I met who agreed to escort me across a dicey major intersection back to the motel, the manager of the motel who told them to go away (hahahahhahahahaaha since when did they hire my dad at the front desk?!?)

And of course, even more fantastic, all of Angela’s Austin’s friends.

I had such a great time meeting them all, who came out to eat The Best Queso In The World, who danced with us at a tasteful gay club, and one friend in particular, Christina, who drove us around town in her mom mini van (“Don’t steal those stuffed toys, my kids will be upset.”)

I spent quality time with everyone, laughing through the hangovers, feeding headaches with more tacos, trying out as many different preparations of tequila as possible.


We also banged out a proper vacation, which I’ve come to realize gets hard to do when people have things like jobs and lives and schedules (and kids who own stuffed animals.)

But we still all put forth the time and energy to plan a trip across the country, and the New Orleans bridesmaids planned a fantastic itinerary for when we got there (“dance the two-step...check.”)

I'd say the “bachelorette scavenger hunt” was even a success, if only for the inside joke of Angela awkwardly asking the Uber driver where he got 'dem shoes”



Amidst the tequila sunrises, there was a moment at Saturday brunch, a moment where we all went around the table and said how we met Angela and how happy we were that she was marrying the perfect person in the world for her (that was my speech anyway).  

Angela, my best friend since 1999!! So much love.

Then she went back around saying how much we each meant to her, and maybe it was the tequila but I thought about how of all the millions of people in the world, of all the millions of places in the world, the eight of us, from far and wide, were together at this exact moment for this momentous occasion, to celebrate our dear friend.

And I felt lucky to be in that number. 

...And then I don’t remember much more about Saturday. 

WHAT?!?!? I had to keep Austin weird.

(Sunday Jenny was not amused.)


So now, I have a big, fresh bag of memories from my Austin vacation and a bunch of new friends. 

And I can’t wait to be by Angela’s side when she gets married in one week.


It will be an awesome new chapter in our wonderful, wonderfully weird life.


Love ya girl.


P.S. I know where you get dem shoes...


Tuesday, February 24, 2015


I’ve been using the term LOL lately because apparently I’m retreating back into a 17-year old girl.

But LOL is the only thing I can say about this week’s Toolbag Tuesday—an ironic assessment because it’s about a guy who dumped someone my exact age (31) for being too old.


My friend Amanda was out at bar last week, the night of Mardi Gras to be exact, dancing the night away and saw a cute guy on the dance floor who looked like he was in his 30s.

His name was Grant and he sidled up to her and he started bumping butts, spinning her around and paying 100 percent attention to her. 

Amanda recognized him from a weekly social bike ride she does in New Orleans and recalled she had actually checked him out several times.


After a slow dance and another a round of drinks, Amanda said they...ummm....may have kissed right there on the dance floor to the brass band. 

Happy Mardi Gras!!


Grant and Amanda then walked to the bar together and he bought her another drink, got her number and they started talking about what they did, where they lived, where they were from, etc. etc.

She said they spent the entire night side by side, Grant glued to her, chatting her up in a surprisingly intellectual conversation despite the alcohol consumption.

But then they started talking about how old they were.

“Oh, I’m 12,” Amanda said jokingly. Grant responded with, “Oh, wait...hold on....this might not work. I’m 47.”


Then it was time to be serious. 

Grant, who Amanda said looked about 35 said he was 27 years old.

“And how old are you?” he asked, with his arm around her.

She gave him a playful look.

“30?” he asked.

She gave him another playful look.

"Just a tad older..." she said.

Then Grant made an ugly face.

Older? You’re OLDER than 30?” he asked, with this horrified, ugly face. 



“I’m…thirty…one,” Amanda said.

That’s when she said Grant pulled his arm away from around her and bolted.




“I…uh…gotta go find my jacket,” Grant said abruptly and then completely disappeared.

He never came back, even though he had just bought a fresh beer. Never said bye. Never called her or texted (the number HE asked her for) and didn’t show up to the bike club that week.


Quick! How to make a hot, happening 31-year-old girl feel old and decrepit.


So I guess being 31 didn’t matter when he was MAKING OUT WITH HER on the dance floor and making plans to see her again.



But, even if that was a deal breaker (four years, though?? Really???), there are much classier ways to handle it rather than Usain Bolt-ing out of there like he just found out she had the measles. 


Grow up Grant.



Wednesday, February 18, 2015


I feel like people who are completely unavailable yet still date should have obvious signs on their head about what exactly their problem is.

Just get it out of the way you know?

Like maybe a drawing of a piece of luggage (i.e. “I have baggage”)

Or cookware! (“I’m a pothead”) hahahaha alternative meaning: “My brain is basically scrambled eggs.”

Or, in the case of my friend Michelle, it would have been really convenient if the tool she dated, Baron, had a picture of a piece of Velcro on his forehead.

(“Don’t get too attached to me.”)

(...Because I will RIP YOU.)

There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to get too attached, I guess, but in that case DON’T DATE SOMEONE EXCLUSIVELY for four months and act like...super glue.


Say, “don’t get too attached to me” after date four, not date 44, IF you have to say it at all.

Michelle and Baron got together after being set up by a mutual friend, where HE pursued HER, where he told her the sweetest things, took her out on the cutest dates and convinced her to cook him chicken even though she’s a vegetarian.

(That’s love.)

He bought tickets to a concert months away. He taught her the importance of cuddling. He asked her to watch his pets when he went out of town.


But then Baron’s job was in limbo and he freaked out that he would either take a pay cut or be fired and that’s when he did a complete 180.

Michelle was really supportive of his job situation and told him that everything would be OK, but he wasn’t interested. He was distant and absent.

She sent him the cutest text asking if there was a good night that week he could come over so she could cook him dinner.

“I like when I get to see you :),” she texted.

But did she get a smiley emoticon back???


NO, no she did not.

“Don’t get too attached,” he wrote.



“As soon as this place shuts down I’m f*cking out of here,” Baron wrote.

Note: He didn’t ask her to come with him to wherever he was going. (Or let her know who would watch his pets.)

Eye roll.

“Oh come on,” Michelle said. “It will be OK.”

“Really come on,” she wrote.



But all she got was radio silence.

That was it.

That was his break-up move.

Seriously. After FOUR MONTHS of dating him, he ended things with an infuriating set of instructions: 

"Don’t get too attached.”


Tell that to someone BEFORE you spend every single night together and force her to cook you meat!!!


This couldn’t just be about his job. Because if it was, hahahahahahahahahahahaha wake up and smell the glue Baron, it’s 2015. 
NO ONE’S job is stable.

No, he was just that guy.

That guy that acted like a firm, reliable thing to hold on to, but really was only good for...wrapping electrical wires together.

Michelle said she saw him out at a bar the following week and tried to talk to him but he straight-up ignored her.

IGNORED HER!!! After four months!!


(finger snap): Oh uhhh-uhhhh

She needs to get him drunk and draw on his forehead.


Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Valentine’s Day Gifts under $50

Instead of writing about a toolbag yesterday, I spent the day trying to prevent a future toolbag by finding some kick-ass Valentine’s Day gifts that are under $50.

Because everyone uses the excuse that they're too "broke" for Valentine's Day gifts and that doesn't get ANYONE any face time the bedroom. 

Ha're welcome.

But you know, even with a budget cap this year, these gifts feel more expensive than $50 so...lie about it.


Bluetooth speaker
Your boy or girlfriend will be the life of the party with a smashing new Bluetooth speaker. I know the awesomeness of the Bluetooth speaker having borrowed several over the past year. Sync your phone to it and hear your jams from the beach to the shower, while gardening (ed note: hahahahahahahaha), while on the kickball field or any party

Concert tickets

This is a good one because you make memories while also giving a good gift. And memories are fucking priceless. Two words of advice: If you don’t think you’ll be together in May, don’t get tickets for a concert in May. And don’t pick an all-ages show because you WILL feel old and get pissed off because every time the singer sings anything remotely familiar, you’ll see nothing but a wall of glowing iPhone screens.

Fishing pole

Yes, a fishing pole (rod + reel) that only costs $50 is going to be pretty crappy but GUESS WHAT IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU’RE ONLY CATCHING CRAPPIE. 
Fishing is a super fun activity, all you need is a waterway and a little bit of bait for a lively afternoon. Add a bicycle and bucket and you could be on the next cover of Garden and Gun Magazine. PLUS, you can play up a card about how you’re hooked on her....haha...(I’ll show myself out).

Cheapest dinner possible....but with great wine

It has come to my attention that my body can’t handle cheap wine anymore. It burns my throat going down, the hangovers are terrible and I have decided after careful consideration that I won’t get out of bed for anything less than $15 a bottle. Ha. Alternatively, cheap food is always in style. So take your $50 and get down on some frozen raviolis plus a packet of pesto or whatever else that costs no more than $10 and throw up $40 for an awesome wine that will get you both drunk without the pesky side effects know...WANTING TO DIE.

A throw for the couch

You know those jokes about how girls are always freezing? Well, that one’s true. 
And with all these new TV shows coming back this month like House of Cards and Game of Thrones (or, uh, The Office episodes on repeat...for example), a throw is a perfect CHEAP warm and toasty gift that she’ll use everyday. Word of advice: Do NOT get something fleece, or with any sort of face on it, because we’re not in college anymore. Try something knitted, something wool-ish, something big that covers you both (wink wink.)

Roku streaming stick

This genius device plugs into your significant other’s TV’s USB port and allows them to stream Netflix, HBOGo, play Pandora Radio and watch YouTube videos. And if you want to give her your Netflix password while you’re at it, I’m sure she’ll let you watch that documentary about the Dust Bowl (eyeroll). A Roku is exactly $50.

World Wildlife Fund Animal Adoption

If you have the kind of significant other who freaks out when you jokingly say that you’re going to poison the neighbor’s dog...I mean...for example...then this would be a great gift for that animal-lover/freak. 
Adoption kits come in $25 or $55 amounts, and you can pick your endangered species and it comes with a photo of your animal, a gift bag AND a plush toy of the species.
And who DOESN’T want a plush toy of a hippopotamus, giraffe or a blue-footed booby?? :) Also think of the jokes if your relationship and the species both become extinct within the next year!


So there you have it. Gifts under $50 that she'll remember forever. 


Here's to hoping you and your credit card survive this Valentine's Day.



Tuesday, February 3, 2015


This guy's Tinder game is strong:

(I doubt that's his sister.)

I mean, really, what IS this?  

A "this-could-be-you?" ad? 

Is this the ONLY picture he has of himself??

No girl can possibly take a guy seriously who doesn't know how to use the crop tool. 

Also one who cops a feel outside a church.


Tuesday, January 27, 2015


Newsflash: It’s hard being a perfect, pretty pretty princess when Disney doesn’t prepare you for how Prince Charmings really act.

Sure, it’s all realistic for the princesses (Cinderella—broke, can’t afford a dress; Ariel—awkward, can’t even talk to her crush; Wendy—in love with a perpetual man-child...also...not a real princess...)



Correction: Guys should treat women like a princess every day.

...But definitely on Rex Manning CROWN-WEARING day.

Fun fact: I wore a crown once, when I was the high school PROM queen (pretty sure the voting ballot was rigged) but STILL. 

I donned a crown and it had JEWELS on it and my date was nothing but a prince and the crown is still sitting somewhere on a shelf in my parent’s house. Rusting.

What other occasion would a female wear a bona fide crown?

Maybe on her wedding day (definitely a day to treat her like a princess.)

Maybe for when she’s getting her portrait painted to be hung in a castle.

But the most important reason of all???? The day she becomes the QUEEN of a Mardi Gras Krewe in New Orleans.

And it’s that Krewe’s MARDI GRAS BALL.

Yes, Mardi Gras balls have a queen and a king and royalty and yes, you wear a crown and yes, it’s a big EFFING deal. (hahaha click that link).

Too bad Eddie, this guy my friend Lauren dated, didn’t know standard royal protocol.

Lauren was the queen of her Mardi Gras krewe and Eddie, her boyfriend in college who traveled to New Orleans specifically to escort her, instead of treat her like the QUEEN that she was, HIT ON ONE OF HER SUBJECTS all night.




I mean, shouldn’t he have been BEAMING to be the QUEEN’S date??!!?

Flashing his big Prince Charming smile???

Yes, yes, he should have.

But Lauren said that from her perch on stage, she didn’t see Eddie lugging around a glass slipper, instead she saw him playing grab-ass with her friend Georgia.

Georgia went to the same college and was specifically invited by Lauren.


At first, Lauren thought she was imagining things.

But then, as she descended from her throne into the crowd, her friends started telling her that Georgia and Eddie had been flirting and holding hands and giggling and getting each other drinks and acting like each other's dates in front of HER FAMILY AND FRIENDS all night.


What is the Disney protocol for this??!?!

As Lauren recalls: “I was wearing a crown, I did not want to get into a fight with a stupid boyfriend and people calling me ‘your majesty’ all night.”


“Your majesty, you have the best right hook I’ve ever seen!!”


So Lauren didn’t say anything and continued to be nice to, and pose in pictures with, the BEAST.


Lauren said every time she made a comment about his behavior, Eddie told her, “we’ll talk later.”

And she felt a duty to Georgia not to ditch her in New Orleans since they had traveled together and she was trying to be a noble and just queen.



Lauren said, “It was awful: all eyes were on me, so I couldn't bash his head in like I wanted to.”


Her royal night was completely spoiled, even worse when she woke up the next morning to find out that Eddie had snuck out of the guest room in her parents’ house before she woke up to discuss anything.


Disappeared without even saying goodbye!!!

What, did he turn into a pumpkin at 8 a.m.???

More like turn back into the rodent he really was.


(I know, I’m running out of Disney references.)

But I guess simply wearing a crown is one thing; a true princess is someone who remains composed and sophisticated despite Prince Charming ALARMING being an asshole and ruining the entire night.

And at least she didn’t end up with him.

...Which is the happiest ending of all.


Tuesday, January 20, 2015


Everyone has their own idea of what they think is annoying Facebook behavior.

(Asking fellow mom friends to comment on whether their baby’s poop color is normal...with photos!, waaaay too much information about the bastard you’re divorcing with incessant “guys can’t handle a strong b*tch like me” memes, posting 11 million trillion vacation photos every day that you are on vacation that makes people wonder if you look up from your phone at all...etc., etc.)

But no matter what your particular Facebook pet peeve is, we can all agree that Frank, this guy my friend Angela dated for a few months, fails the hardest at Facebook.

Because Frank was not just annoying, but dangerous. 

And when Frank couldn’t find his cell phone one day, and irrationally thought that Angela had stolen it (side note: hahahahahahaha), he took to Facebook to MESSAGE HER BOSS AND MOTHER ABOUT HOW THEY HAD HIRED/RAISED A THIEF (respectively.)



Spoiler alert: Frank found his phone in his EFFING driveway.



But Frank was truly committed to his crazy. His response to his cell phone discovery?




It’s funny now, but it wasn’t funny when Angela got a crazy Facebook message from Frank the day after she spent the night at his house about how she MUST have taken his phone because he can’t find it and WTF was her problem—that’s a $200 smartphone!!! 

Also, he might sue her.


“What are you talking about? I didn’t take your phone,” Angela wrote. She pointed out that they had both been drinking the night before and maybe he lost it somewhere.

And then Frank, uh, lost it...on Angela.

He sent her seething messages about how she was just jealous that he was so good-looking and must have taken his phone to go through all of his messages.

Angela promptly ignored, deleted and blocked him and then called it a day.

But then she got a phone call from her boss about an hour later, on a SATURDAY. Her boss was a young, smart accountant who owned the firm and thankfully, also had a track record of crazy guys.

“Um, Angela, are you OK? Your friend Frank just messaged me about how you stole his phone and he felt like I needed to know that you were a thief since you work for me,” she said.


Angela almost cried.

“Oh my God, I didn’t take his phone!” Angela said, mortified. “I don’t know what he’s talking about! I really don’t know. I’m so sorry! I can’t believe he messaged you!”

In her desperate attempt to defend herself, she got call waiting ---- beeeeeeeeeep. It was her mother.

“Angela, why is your ‘new friend’ Frank messaging me about you stealing his property?” she asked. “...and saying that I raised a liar?



It was seriously the biggest mess Angela had ever been in. S
he had to do damage control twice.

Hours later, after things were settled, she got a text from Frank’s number. It was a miracle! 

It was Frank, about how he found his phone in his driveway and that...(Ed note: OMG)...SHE SHOULD APOLOGIZE for stealing it and making him worry.


(Sorry, apparent mental illness isn’t funny).

Really FRANK????!!? 
SHE should apologize????

Angela told Frank that, no, actually HE should apologize to her, her boss and her mother and that he could have gotten her fired.

Of course Frank didn’t see it that way, and infuriatingly continued to believe that he did the noble thing by letting everyone know that she really was an iPhone thief...who returns items to his driveway when she was done with them.

“Still to this day, he believes I did it!” Angela said.



And by unbelievable, of course, I mean unbelievable that your friend’s public baby poop debate isn’t the worst thing that can happen to your Facebook account.

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