Tuesday, May 27, 2014


A few years ago, a friend of mine coined the term “B.A.F.A.K.” to describe a stick-in-the-mud boyfriend.

It’s fitting because BAFAK sounds like how fancy people say barf. (BAAAAAF)

B.A.F.A.K., officially, is an acronym for a “Boyfriend Against Fun of All Kinds.”

This term is reserved for boyfriends who are absolutely NOT amused by antics, silliness, being drunk, unicorns, magic, jumprope, staying up past 10:30, giggling, sneaking into movie theaters, Mardi Gras, dancing, line dancing, water slides, hangovers, dressing up in costumes and/or anything else the child in you finds fun.

Some BAFAKS don’t mean to be that way, it’s just how they turned out. Others, however, go out of their way to ruin fun times other people are having.

By doing so, they take away a little piece of the child in everyone, like the mean second-grade teacher who nobody wanted to get for homeroom. 

Any evidence of child-like wonder and happiness is immediately squashed by no-nonsense scolding.

A bafak can unfortunately morph into a “F.A.F.A.K.” – Fiancée Against Fun of All Kinds, and then, naturally, a “H.A.F.A.K.” – Husband Against Fun of All Kinds.

(“Brian is such a HAFAK - he wouldn’t let Sally wear her crazy hat to the party.”)

This past weekend, however, I heard about a D.A.F.A.K. for the first time – a dad against fun of all kinds.


Let me set the scene: A dad and little boy about six years old were playing on the beach in South Carolina. No, wait, the boy was playing. The dad wasn’t playing at all, he was just hall monitoring.  

It was sunset. My friend Alice, who lives on the beach and is a child-like spirit herself, looked up from her beach towel and into the horizon and saw dolphins jumping out of the water for feeding time.

The dolphin’s fins broke the surface of the water in rhythmic 10-second intervals and you could follow their path with your eyes. It’s good luck to see them at dusk.

“Hey, look!” Alice told the dad and little boy, pointing to the shore. “There are dolphins jumping over there!”

The boy looked at Alice and then followed her hand out to the water. She could see he was smiling in anticipation.

“They're right over there!” Alice said.

“UM, THANKS,” the DAFAK said curtly. “But he’s ALREADY SEEN dolphins jumping before.”





Then he told the boy to finish his sand castle instead.


Alice’s jaw dropped.

What kind of response is that????

Who the hell would deprive a child of seeing a dolphin jumping???...In nature?? On the beach??

That’s some bitter, non-fun, B.S.

Child or adult, seeing a dolphin jump out of the water is all kinds of awesome. And it makes you feel special that you saw it. Like a secret.

It’s one thing for you yourself to be bitter…somehow…about dolphins.

But a boy the age of six couldn’t possibly have OVERDOSED on seeing dolphins jumping out of the water in his lifetime.

What, do they live at SeaWorld??!?!?

Alice said the little boy, following orders, took his eyes off the shore right as the dolphins resurfaced.

She had to physically cover her mouth from squeal-announcing it again when she saw three surface at once.

“…because you’ve already seen them!” Alice heard the DAFAK repeat to the boy, as if the boy had asked if he could re-watch a movie or something.

When I heard this story, I was incensed.

What the hell did HE care if the boy saw dolphins??

Was he on a time crunch to finish building his sand castle???


Rule of thumb, ladies: If you’re dating a BAFAK who is uninterested in dolphins jumping out of the water, get out while you can.

Because he WILL turn into a DAFAK and then one day he’ll be on the beach and shit all over something magical and the stranger next to him will want nothing more than to fancy person BAFFFFFF

...all over his head.


Tuesday, May 20, 2014


Men who are insecure are a special kind of crazy because they didn’t get any practice feeling insecure their whole lives like girls did, so they don’t know how to handle it.

Girls know how to handle feeling insecure: They ask their significant other to tell them sweet things, demand a compliment or two or, uh…50 and, you know, cry.

“Do you think she’s…prettier than I am?”

…said no guy ever.

Because guys don’t ask for compliments. And I have never heard of a guy asking a girlfriend to tell him something “sweet."

So what happens, then, when he feels insecure about his relationship?


Carlos, this guy my friend Brittany dated, was incredibly insecure and he would routinely fly off the handle when he didn’t get enough attention/love/compliments.

But rather than tell her, “I’m insecure about BLAH. Make me pancakes in the shape of a heart!” (um…for example), he decided that he would accuse her of liking someone else.

Like a, “Do you think he’s prettier than me?”

But he didn’t phrase it as a question. It was an accusation.

…and that “someone else” she supposedly liked was his roommate and good friend.

“I can just HEAR the way you guys talk to each other!” Carlos would say whenever he was feeling particularly blue.

Now, before you think that this scenario isn’t all that far-fetched (girlfriend/boyfriend liking your roommate…dammit), keep in mind that Brittany was absolutely not interested in the roommate, and the roommate’s preference in ladies was one of a different race.

As such, it was extremely unlikely the two of them were having a secret affair or whispering behind Carlos’ back when he went to the bathroom. 

But Carlos didn’t really believe it, though, since he never once mentioned it to his roommate.

He only mentioned his delusional scenario to Brittany, perhaps in an attempt to get her to reassure him that HE was her one and only.

But the plan backfired because Brittany was not feeling very complimentary after that. She was feeling pissed that he would suggest that she’d cheat on him with ANYONE, let alone a friend and roommate.

And this cycle continued for months. 

Brittany said she didn’t know what to do about it, so she just started to not talk to his roommate when she’d come over, which was weird and led to glares from Carlos about all the “tension” in the room.




The final straw came after four months of putting up with this behavior in what I think would be a hilarious scene in a movie.

Carlos, Brittney and his roommate, after a long night of drinking, ended up at a late-night pizza place. Carlos wasn’t hungry, but Brittany and the roommate were, and they were looking at the menu.

Yes, they wanted pizza. They wanted more than just a slice.

“Do you maybe just want to split a pizza?” the roommate asked. Brittney’s teeth immediately clenched together and she could FEEL Carlos’ eyes on her.

Please no please no please no please don’t ask me that.

She didn’t respond.

“Yea,” said the clueless roommate, closing the menu. “Let’s get this special pizza, I hear it’s really good.”

That’s when Carlos “excused himself from the booth” Brittany said, hahahahahahaha, to go sit 20 feet away from them at the bar by himself. 

Because he was CLEARLY the third wheel in this super hot pizza love story.

Brittany followed him.




“Why are you acting like this?” Brittany asked. She then laid out the facts: 

It’s just a pizza. 
It’s your roommate.
I’m your girlfriend. 
He likes black girls. 
I’m white. 

"How many times do I have to go over this?”

But Carlos was unable to be soothed about them sharing a meal, and actually used the word "rude."


Brittany promptly went back to the table and told the roommate that she wasn’t hungry anymore and left to go home, alone.

The next day, she evaluated what happened and decided THAT was it.

No one was going to make her feel bad for sharing a damn pizza with someone else!!

Who gets threatened by that???


Carlos should have just stuck to asking her for compliments.

Like, "Do you think he's….”

“No, Carlos, I don't think anyone...is as bat shit crazy as you.”



Tuesday, May 13, 2014


Usually when someone tells you they got a job…a job in today’s economy…it’s welcome news.




Not when the person who got this new job is the person you met online, who you were planning to meet for the first time at happy hour that evening.

Wait…so you...DIDN’T have a job an hour ago?

(So glad those dating filters are working out.)

But it gets much worse.

I met 30-year-old Tim online and we “liked” each other and made plans to meet at this cool new spot for happy hour. 

We were texting the morning of our date back and forth with mindless chit-chat when he revealed the following: 

1.) He doesn’t have a job

2.) “Woah” he got a job at a liquor store just now!

3.) He goes to the liquor store at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday

4.) He is going to be an hour late now because of this new, unexpected job.

5.) Oh and he lost his debit card a week ago when he was drunk

6.) therefore, has no money

7.) and has no car

8.) …Do I still want to meet up????

I KNOW! All super attractive points.

That’s the day I quit online dating forever.

Spoiler alert - I politely declined our meeting – “you shouldn’t have to rush out of your first day of work,” I wrote.


What a complete waste of time.

First, let’s address the fact that he was going to a liquor store at 11 a.m.

“I just got a job offer at a liquor store!” Tim wrote to me randomly after saying he was “taking it easy” that day. (uhhhh, unemployed)

Naturally, I thought he was kidding.

“Do a fireball shot!” I wrote back. “Show them you mean business!”

“Really! Dude just called me and told me I can start right now! Gotta do it!” was his response.


The he wrote: “I had no clue I was going to just walk into a liquor store and be offered a job!”

I didn’t respond.

Was that supposed to be attractive????

Surely he was joking.

Then, a half-hour before happy hour I get a text:

“Hey I just got off now and I won’t have time to run back to my house and get money but I’ll gladly come meet you,” he wrote.



Aww how did Tim know that was EXACTLY what I wanted to do??? — Meet up with someone for a date who doesn’t have any money!

“What?” I wrote back.

“Long story,” he wrote. “Basically I lost my debit card being a ‘drunken ass’ so it’s a good thing I have cash at my house for emergencies but I won’t have time to go home and get it. I ride my bike.”


He has a bicycle.

He’s a drunken ass.

He loses things.

That's not a long story at all. 


You know, there are men out there who would NEVER, EVER think about taking a girl out on a date if they didn’t have any money. Ever. Period.

Unfortunately, they are a dying breed.

Apparently taking a girl out on a date and paying for it is so…last generation’s economy???

I’ll be the first one to say, 'sure, I’ll get the tab,' with a boyfriend or someone I'm actually dating, but this was just crass. 

A first date. A blind date.

I have no money, but I’ll gladly come meet you.


Yea I'm sure he would gladly have met me and let me pay for myself and him. 

Tim kept digging his "I'm unattractive" ditch deeper with every subsequent text.

“Sorry…I wasn’t planning on getting a job today so I wasn’t able to go home beforehand,” he wrote.


Wasn’t planning on getting a job today.


“Let’s just rain check it,” I wrote politely. 

I then made it MY job to delete his number AND my online dating profile entirely.

And then made myself a liquor drink.


Monday, May 12, 2014

Dance mom

(Yes, I know Mother’s Day was Sunday. And yes, my card to her was two days late. Guess who I inherited this from.)

It’s always good to do new things with your mom. It’s really helpful when you live in a colorful city like New Orleans, where there’s always something new to do.

My earliest memory is celebrating Mardi Gras in the French Quarter.

Our parents lived in the French Quarter before moving to buy a house a mile away and they would bring us  their small children — to the French Quarter on Mardi Gras day. They would sit my twin sister Joy, older brother Franklin and me on newspaper stands and hang out all day.

“And the gay men were always so nice about you kids being there they would always cover up when they’d see you sitting there,” my mom recalls.

I didn’t know what she was talking about until two years after she first  said it.

And even then, I thought she was talking about their butts.


I believe this was Franklin’s “Freddy Kruger” stage

Bringing elementary school children to the French Quarter on Mardi Gras would have seemed strange to people outside of New Orleans, even people from New York like my mom.

But it was so fun!! We would point out the best costumes people wore – we distinctly remember two professionally-done Energizer bunny costumes and watched them from across Esplanade Avenue with wide-eyed wonder.

We remembered those costumes for years after that Mardi Gras. 

"Remember those Energizer bunnies???"

I still do.

(keeeeeeeps going!...)

In high school, another New Orleans thing happened: Joy and I somehow became engrossed in swing dancing.

We were 16 and learned how to swing dance at Rock n’ Bowl, a still-famous bowling alley and music venue.

Every Thursday was bona fide swing dancing night with Johnny Angel and the Swinging Demons with a beautiful singer named Julia LaShay (I can’t believe I still remember her name!! Yea long-term memory!!), but we couldn’t get in because we were under 18.

So, for well over a year, our mom would BRING US TO ROCK N’ BOWL at 8 p.m. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT (I KNOW!!) with our friends (I KNOW!!) and we’d all dance for a few hour with each other, and select strangers who asked nicely.

If anyone old and creepy, or drunk and sloppy (or all four combined) tried to dance with us, our mom would step in and politely tell them no, no thank you. (These rules still apply to my dancing with strangers policy.)

Our mom knew how to swing dance, because there is very little someone who lived in the French Quarter DOESN’T know how to do.

A family friend even met her husband at Rock n' Bowl and they still today are the best swing dancing married couple I’ve ever seen. (My mom still talks about their amazing first dance as a couple.)

It’s fair to say there’s a lot of dancing in my mom and my relationship.

My mom and I danced at the first Jazz Fest following Hurricane Katrina when Lionel Ritchie took over for Fats Domino.

I was living in South Carolina then, like I am now, but Joy and I drove down for Jazz Fest, eight months after the hurricane hit.

It was the first time that it felt normal afterwards even though it so, so, so wasn’t, and when Fats Domino had a last-minute health emergency and had to cancel, everyone was somber.

But then Lionel Ritchie came out in his place, and knowing the enormity of the shoes he had to fill – the last performer on the last day of Jazz Fest 2006...and taking place for Fats Domino – he performed harder than any other artist I’ve ever seen to date. He absolutely killed it. He loves New Orleans.

“I’m gonna sing every Commodores song I can remember even if it violates copyright!” he screamed and everyone laughed and cheered.

I turned that Jazz Fest trip into an article when I got back to my job as a newspaper reporter in South Carolina.

And I put a picture of me and my mom dancing together as the photo to go along with the article and my mom ordered a framed copy. It still hangs today on a very frequented wall in my parents’ house. 

I know...how can you top Lionel, right??

What else could my mom and I possibly do new together?

(Ed note: My mom and I have also been horseback riding, water skiing, sat through the absolute worst improv comedy we’ve ever seen, a New Orleans “fringe” dance show with dancers emulating park animals, live plays and shorts about the importance of costuming on Mardi Gras.)

Certainly, there are attempts to do new things, like the yearly “let’s all go water-rafting” email from my mom and Joy that my dad, brother and I politely ignore (haha).

I didn’t think there was much left that we haven’t done.

But then I remembered that…duh…my mom and I have never danced together to a 1920s dance before!!

(forehead slap!)

Of course! It was one of the most fun experience I’ve ever had!

It was my last two months living in New Orleans and it was the perfect way to get in one more experience.

So I asked, and then begged her to come with me to the new session of The Chrous Girl Project. She caved.

We’d practice diligently during the week, the night I’d stop by my parents’ house to eat dinner. After we’d eat, my mom and I would stand in front of the computer, we’d pull up the video, pull back the rug and dance on the hardwood floor.

The day of our public (“non-living room”) performance, I even did my mom’s eye makeup (even with my very little knowledge about such things).

I remember my mom was so supportive, she made me feel better when I had a mild panic attack before the performance during rehearsals because I kept missing a cue.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be way worse than you,” she said. “And we’re dancing side by side.”

I felt better.

“Ok, don’t stop smiling whole time,” I countered.

It was one of those “only in New Orleans” moments where everything just comes together and would not have anywhere else in the world – my mom and I dancing together! In a line! In sync! To a 1920s dance! In public! 


We loved it!! And she's still doing it!!!

It’s good to do new things with mom, especially if you have a mom that likes to do stuff and you really enjoy her company.

I wish I was dancing with her today…er…Mother’s Day…because ever since I moved back to South Carolina last December, I really miss my dancing partner. And her company.

But I will take comfort in the fact that there is always something new to do and I can’t wait to see what we’ll do together next.

But seriously.

No whitewater rafting.




Tuesday, May 6, 2014


In one of my favorite movies of all time, Friday, (It’s got action! It’s got comedy! It’s got romance!) there’s a scene where the main character’s girlfriend calls him to bitch about how she heard he “was all hugged up with some tramp” at the show last night (he wasn’t) and she didn’t appreciate it. 

But then if you look really closely, there’s a DUDE laying next to her in her bed. 


Gotta love the hypocrites!

And by love them, I mean laugh at them.

It’s a special kind of delusion. I think it’s because hypocrites are on such a high horse they can’t get proper oxygen to their brains. 

HELLO!!! You can’t give someone shit when you’re doing the very same thing!!

Brian and my friend Paige dated for four years in college and beyond and they still did a long-distance, “non-exclusive” dumb thing when she went to graduate school in New York and he stayed in New Orleans. 

Paige said after a few months apart, she started to like someone else. It wasn’t an earth-shattering love, and she didn’t mention it to Brian.

(She did, however, tell her friends about the new guy in their group texts. He took her to the Hamptons! Swoon!)

A few months passed without Brian and Paige visiting each other, since he decided to go to Mexico instead of go up to New York and see her.

But when he got back from Mexico, she said he flipped out on her.

“You’re seeing someone else, I can TELL!” Brian said. “AND I WON’T BE MADE TO LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT!”


Paige said he made her feel like a truly awful person.

“Look, Brian, we both agreed that we’d talk if either one of us met someone serious. And I’m not seeing anyone serious-ly,” she said. 

“The LAST thing I want to do is make you feel like an idiot.”

They hung up as sort-of friends, but she felt sick.

She called her best girl friends to get their advice on if she should end things or tell Brian about the new guy.

“…everything was just FINE until he went to Mexico!!” she wailed.

Her friends said maybe Brian just missed her when he was on his Mexican vacation. Maybe watching all those sunsets on the beach made him lonely.

Paige continued on dating her new guy and he brought her to the Hamptons again for a weekend getaway.

She called Brian when she got back.

“Where’d you go this weekend? The HAMPTONS??!” he asked.

“What??” she said.

She was sure there was nothing on Facebook or Instagram about it.

“Yea, I can TELL these things!” Brian said.

Paige was worried. Was her phone tapped??? Did she have a hidden GPS in her car??

“You know, I don’t have time for this!” Brian said. “I told you before, I’m NOT going to look like an idiot.”

And that’s when Paige got dumped. 

She was beside herself upset that she hurt his feelings so bad. She should have ended thing with Brian months ago and saved him the pain.

Who knew that a sort-of exclusive long-distance relationship wouldn’t work out??


She didn’t hear from Brian any more after that, that is, until she got a disturbing phone call from one of her girlfriends about a month later.

“So…um…Brian is an A-hole,” her friend said.


“Well, he’s dating Georgia.”

Georgia was one of Paige’s best friends, who still lived in New Orleans.

“What?” Paige asked, remembering now that Georgia hadn’t returned several phone calls.

“Yep…and not only is he dating Georgia, but HE BROUGHT HER TO MEXICO WITH HIM ON THAT TRIP HE WENT ON.”

Paige shook her head.



“SHE’S the one who told him that you were seeing someone else! And told him about the Hamptons.”




Yes, Brian secretly brought Paige’s BEST FRIEND with him on a Mexican vacation and then had the nerve to tell her not to make him look like an idiot.



What, did he GET OFF ON YELLING AT HER?? Or coming out of their relationship looking like the "good guy" just because she didn't know about his fling??


Don’t make him look like an idiot. 



While Paige was beating herself up that she broke poor Brian’s heart, he’s been shacking up with her former best friend for months!

There is nothing more infuriating than finding out someone you’re dating is all “hugged up” on one of your best friends. 

Especially after hearing an earful about what an asshole you are for seeing someone else.

...And no amount of watching Friday on loop will make you feel better about that.



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