TOOLBAG TUESDAY

Movies and TV shows have already showed common lines men use to gain sympathy and/or get what they want.

“This is my last day on Earth.”

“I’m going to die tomorrow.”

“You don’t want to die a virgin do you?”

It’s always an ultimate, I’m-leaving-forever-and-this-is-your-last-chance plea. DON’T RESIST TEMPTATION! YOU MAY NOT GET ANOTHER CHANCE!

I’d be more swayed if guys who used these lines in real life were actually telling the truth.

Take Todd, for example. He and my friend Alice dated in high school, but they broke up and he immediately stared dating Alice’s best friend.

Furious, Alice yelled at him, and his response in typical high fashion was, “You know, in a perfect world, I could date BOTH of you.” (ugh)

When things fizzled with the friend, Todd came running back to Alice, who refused to see him again.

Todd apologized, he begged to take her to him back, he told her that he missed her so much he couldn’t stand it. But she wasn’t budging.

Then he pulled out a trump card.

“My ROTC class is going to Iraq for 48 hours for a special mission,” Todd said. “And I might be killed.”

Alice didn’t say anything for a minute. He...could be killed?

She had seen footage of soldiers heading overseas to Iraq, and it was very, very sad. She had no idea that high school ROTC classes were now being sent for “48-hour special missions” to the country.

This was right after 9/11, and Alice softened up a bit. Then she talked to her parents about it.

“You can’t even GET to Iraq in 48 hours,” her parents told her matter-of-factly. “No, the army is not sending an ROTC class of 16-year-old boys to Iraq.”

Alice called Todd back and repeated the lack of logic in his story.

Yet he stood firm that he and his fellow junior ROTC soldiers-in-training were packing duffel bags and big, black boots at that moment.

In addition to the fact that he was lying about a “48 hour special mission” (I mean, really, what were they gonna do, pop each other’s zits in the direction of the enemy??) it was especially annoying that his fateful trip was supposed to make up for his previous bad behavior.

Oh, you’re going to Iraq? Well, then I forgive you for dating my best friend. And fantasizing about dating the both of us.

Alice didn’t buy his story and they stopped talking altogether -- even when she really, really, really felt like calling him during the “48 hour special mission trip” to ask why he was still in the New Orleans time zone.

She considered throwing MRE meals at his house.

-Jenny

Things that really grind my gears

In college, my opinion writing professor told us never to write rants.

He said it was pointless. Everyone bitches about everything on a daily basis – bad drivers, texting at dinner, rude homeless people who turn their noses up when you hand them a sensible breakfast bar (uh for example) – and he said no one wants to read about it. It just makes them really angry.

I always thought rant-writing would be something to bond over. Like, UGH I hate drivers who don’t use turning signals, too!!!

But, I took his word for it, and have never written about anything that specifically grinds my gears. Other than toolbags.

(Confession: I did write a blog post bitching about people who post photos on Facebook of their naked newborn baby boys in the hospital with their apricot-sized balls, but decided not to post it. Because it was a rant.)

Today, however, I’m breaking the rules.

Today I want to talk about the Louisiana Unemployment Commission. (Something even more horrific than baby boy balls!)

Have you ever had to file for unemployment? It’s not as easy as sobbing, “I GOT LAID OFF! HELP ME!!” and a magic check appears.

No. It’s far more annoying than that.

In order for them to even consider paying you, you will need at least an hour, a fax machine, a landline telephone (thanks mom and dad) and the internet, to click a million boxes that ask you the same thing over and over.

No, I’m not in the military

No, I was never in the military

No, I’m not married to anyone in the military

Then, you have to fax them your embarrassing “I got laid off” papers and spend another hour on hold waiting to talk to someone to make sure they received your embarrassing “I got laid off" papers.

In about a week (still not being paid), they mail you a letter with how much they’re going to pay you, which is only about HALF of what you were getting, and they send you a credit card to access your funds.

“But I don’t want a card!” you will probably say. “I want direct deposit to the account that’s already linked to my online payment things!”

You’d think they’d ask you if you wanted a card before taking time and money to mail you one. NO! No one asks you anything!

You then learn that if you want direct deposit, you must fill out another form they didn’t tell you about when you originally filed and....surprise! Fax it over.

And then spend another hour on hold on the phone making sure they got your fax.

I hate jumping through hoops.

Then you figure you’d be paid. Look at my “I got laid off” letter! It’s legit! Here is my bank account! Deposit money! GO!

It was now two weeks later and was getting more broke by the day.

I kept checking my bank account but not seeing any deposit.

During week three, I called the office to ask where my money was. I waited on hold for 44 minutes, only to be told that they don’t pay you for the first week.

“WHAT THE HELL?” I screamed. “LIKE A GRACE PERIOD?”

I then may have waxed on about how ridiculous this is, and how I’ve been working full-time for six years G-dammit, gimmie my money. I think I cried.

Then they tried to make me feel better by saying their office is super swamped and some people don’t get unemployment for two months after they file.

“WHAT THE F*CK??”

“You’ll get your payment on Monday,” someone finally said.

Monday came, and then Tuesday came, and I still didn’t get any money.

“WHERE. IS. MY. MONEY?” I asked another person, after waiting another 45 minutes on hold.

“Oh, you didn’t file on Sunday,” the second person said. “You’re supposed to file every Sunday for the upcoming week.”

“No one told me that.”

“Well, you were supposed to. Now your case has been closed.”

“WHAT THE F*CK??”

So then I had to walk through all of the original filing over the phone all over again--- NOPE, STILL NOT IN THE MILITARY!

A week after that, I got paid.

My first paycheck in five weeks!

It was exciting.

I got a pedicure.

I properly filed the next Sunday, as instructed, but then hit a snag the third week because I started working at a non-profit.

The problem was, my new job hadn’t paid me yet. So I did the honest thing, I clicked the “I worked at a job this week” box, but put $0 in the how much I got paid box.

And then I didn’t get paid that week from unemployment.

“WHERE. IS. MY. MONEY???” I repeated for the fourth time to an unemployment person after being on hold for another 45 minutes.

“You said you got a job.”

“I DIDN’T GET ANY MONEY FROM THEM!”

“Well if you’re volunteering then you shouldn’t have said you got a job.”

“I’m not...I just...haven’t gotten paid!!”

“You’ll get your money Monday.”

Monday came and Tuesday came, and I still didn’t get paid.

It had been seven weeks since I got laid off and unemployment had only paid me for two weeks.

By then, I had gotten a paycheck from my new job and didn’t feel like wasting 45 more DAYTIME minutes calling unemployment, so I dropped it.

I’M DONE WITH YOU PEOPLE! I thought. NEVER AGAIN!

Right?

Wrong.

Today, my new boss called me into his office to tell me he’s got something “a little awkward” to discuss.

THE UNEMPLOYMENT COMMISSION sent him a letter saying I fraudulently filed for unemployment when I had a proper job, and they are doing an audit on me.

And on them.

OMG.

WHAT???

My boss was very nice about it, saying it was probably just a misunderstanding since I didn’t get paid right as I started, and he’d fill out paperwork on his end. But unemployment was THREATENING TO TAKE MY FUTURE PAYCHECKS.

(See: Smoke coming out of my ears.)

“WHAT THE F*CK??!” I screamed an hour later, at the fraud investigator over the phone.

She said records show my new job started on the 11^th. And I filed for unemployment that same week.

I’m such a criminal.

“BUT I HADN'T GOTTEN PAID YET!” I said. “I WROTE THAT I GOT PAID ZERO DOLLARS AND THEN I NEVER GOT A PAYMENT FROM YOUR OFFICE ANYWAY!”

“That doesn’t matter,” she said.

HOW DOES THAT NOT MATTER??

I now have to write a letter to an unemployment “investigator” explaining my “situation” to get it straightened out. And spend 44 cents on a stamp.

BASTARDS.

Oh, I’ll write a letter.

It may include pictures of naked baby boys' apricot balls.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

You’d think that after meeting a guy at a bar and talking for 45 minutes — and him asking you for your number — that he’d be into you.

At least that's what my friend Sara thought after she spent most of her time talking to Scott at her kickball league’s after-bar last week.

They both found each other interesting enough that in 45 minutes they actually learned more about each other than some one-night stands do (Uh, so I’ve heard).

She even decided to stay at the bar and chat with him even though all of her fellow teammates left.

Scott was in the Navy. He was raised super, super Catholic and said his parents followed the Bible to the point of being embarrassing.

He was one of five kids total, two sisters, two brothers (Catholics indeed!)

Sara and Scott had cute banter, and she thought he was smart and funny. She teased him about being in the Navy, asking him how many pushups he can do and things like that.

He got her number, and said he’d call her next time he dropped to do 20.

When Sara said she had to go to the bathroom, he pretended to be crushed.

“You have five minutes exactly,” he said sternly, joking. Sara laughed.

Her grin faded THREE MINUTES LATER, when she came back to the bar from the bathroom and another blonde had taken her seat next to Scott. She observed them for a minute. He was definitely flirting with her, exactly the way her had been flirting with HER, pre-bathroom break.

Sara’s feelings were hurt. Wasn’t she guaranteed his attention for at least the time she was still AT the bar?

Three minutes ago he was “devastated” that she would leave him to go pee, now he had replaced her immediately?

Rolling her eyes, she went up to the bar in Scott’s line of vision and asked the bartender to close out her tab.

“Hey, woah, what are you doing?” Scott asked. “You’re not closing out are you?”

“Yea,” Sara said. “If I can’t hold your attention for five minutes while I’m gone, what’s the point?”

(Also, all of her friends had left already.)

Even though Sara admits she “kind of lost it,” she had a point.

I mean, how annoying!

HE’S the one who had gotten her number and acted like he couldn’t be away from her for five minutes.

DOES PLAYFUL BANTER MEAN NOTHING ANYMORE??

“I mean, I know that I’m being crazy right now,” Sara said, as she signed her tab. “But I just think that’s rude.”

Scott then either became self-aware, or tried to smooth things over. The new blonde girl had gotten bored and left.

“No I mean sorry, I guess that’s an asshole thing to do,” Scott said.

Sara nodded and left.

He never called, but that’s OK.

Sara didn’t even pretend to be devastated. She forgot about him after five minutes.

-Jenny

KK's turn

When my twin sister Joy and I were infants, our mom taught our older brother, Franklin, how to tell people how many months old we were.

It was a tip from Twins Magazine about how to make sure the older “single” sibling won’t feel left out.

Franklin was almost two years old when we were born, and didn’t have an identical twin for strangers to fuss over.

“Oh, look twins!” people would say in public, astonished.

(Twins were a bigger novelty in the 1980s than they are today.)

“How old are they?"

This was always the first question everyone would ask.

Instead of answering, our mom would nudge Franklin.

“Five months!” he’d say, and then the strangers would pay attention to him -- “oh what a smart little boy!”

Then they’d ask him how old he was, and he’d just shrug. (Ha. Just kidding.)

It wasn’t easy for Franklin having younger twin sisters who demanded a lot of attention and who always found his toys more fun to play with.

(In home movies, we saw there was indeed a gated off area in the corner of the living room labeled “Franklin’s space” and Joy and I were not allowed to enter.)

Joy and I ruined a lot of things for Franklin.

He got his own phone line when he turned 15, but then Joy and I abused it and it got taken away completely.

His Sega Genesis video game had the same fate, after Joy and I were caught playing Earthworm Jim when we should have been studying.

When Franklin was old enough to drive, we insisted that he---and only he---drive us to parties and the mall because he was way cooler than our mom.

(His girlfriend at the time was not pleased with our demanding social lives).

Even today, we still call him by his nickname “KK” which we named him about the same time he was telling people how old we were.

Clearly, it was all about us growing up.

But not today!!!! Today is Franklin’s 30^th birthday!!!

THIS TIME I’M TELLING THE WORLD HOW OLD HE IS!!!!

And today, this blog is all about HIM.

Franklin is actually quite a big deal these days, despite not having someone who looks exactly like him.

He edits movies in HOLLYWOOD and my mom picture messages me the TV screen with his name in the credits. Of legit movies!!!

She’s so proud.

His movies have been submitted to film festivals, he’s jet-setted around the country and Leonardo DiCaprio once tapped him on the shoulder at an after-party and asked him to order him a beer.

SWOON!!!

If someone told Franklin when he graduated high school that he would be a movie editor by the time he celebrated HIS 30^TH BIRTHDAY he would have nodded his head approvingly.

In middle school, Franklin would write his own horror movies and shot them with our dad’s big heavy camcorder balanced on one shoulder.

Early 90s fashion was so cruel.

He would even cast me and Joy in supporting roles.

Despite the fact that we usually played “scared girls number 1 and 2,” saying things like “help me!” and “be careful!” to his best friends, who were the heroes in the movie, they made for some pretty fun Friday nights.

They always centered around scary things like monsters and burglars.

Sometimes, though, he’d made a fake basketball shoe commercial with his Air Jordans.

(Incidentally, my favorite movie he ever did, obviously, was the one where he cast me as an attractive stranger getting out of a convertible. In slow motion. Hahaha)

Franklin is also really funny, and Joy and I would count on him to make us laugh during long car rides, family vacations…or trips on the emergency room.

On one memorable vacation in Tennessee, Joy and I decided it would be fun to race each other down a mountain. (We were ten years old, and should have known better.)

I lost my footing but won the race by tumbling down the mountain and needed to get stitches on the underside of my arm.

We were on an Indian reservation and the hospital there wouldn’t take me because I wasn’t an Indian. I remember my mother screaming.

Fifty miles later, I was scared and nervous and in an odd makeshift hospital waiting my turn and Franklin was making me and Joy laugh.

He pretended to be the doctor, looking in cupboards and drawers with his pants hanging down like a plumber whenever the nurse came in.

“Ok, we’re ready for you to go into the operating room,” the nurse finally said. “You can pick one person to go in there with you.”

“Franklin! I want Franklin!” I said. The nurse frowned and said no.

Ha.

Since living in Los Angeles, Franklin has turned into an adult way faster than me and Joy. (I’m still waiting…..any day now...)

This can be seen in small things like how he understands technology while both Joy and I exchanged smart phones for dumb ones and have antiquated MP3 players.

Last month I actually called Franklin AGAIN to walk me through the steps on how to download songs to my MP3 player. (It only holds 27 songs.)

And when I accidentally deleted all the episodes of HBO’s Treme on my parents’ DVR list, Franklin got them the season on DVD before my dad could yell at me.

He’s also an adult in that he’s super successful. When Joy and I visited him in Los Angeles a few years ago, he paid for everything. And we let him.

He always gets us really nice things for Christmas and birthdays, as opposed to me...spending no money writing people blogs for their birthday.

Franklin is also level-headed and when I call him and freak out because it’s a Monday. He separates the things that matter from the things that don’t matter, and he’s very good at giving advice whether it be work-related or toolbag-related.

Most recently, however, Franklin was a good brother and friend during the holidays last year a.k.a. the winter of my discontent.

I had just moved to New Orleans and was going through a traumatic breakup and was completely miserable and seeing him both Thanksgiving and Christmas for weeks at a time was a Godsend.

He listed all the reasons why it was great that I had moved home and made me feel better about being single.

And, somehow, he managed to make me laugh.

Thanks for everything, KK.

-Jenny

My fantasy

If there was a fantasy league for women’s gymnastics, I’m sure a lot of guys would pick gymnasts based on their looks.

(At least the guys who don’t follow stats for how often they stick their landings would.)

You might not know anything about the sport, but at least you could make it fun.
“Uneven bar specialist? I dunno. I'll pick her. She’s hot.”

This is the method I used for picking my fantasy football team: Players based on who I thought were the most attractive. (I don't care about stats or what a tight end does. Or who was spotted on an "anti gravity" treadmill.)

Here’s how it works:

1.) Go to ESPN.com and ignore all the distracting icons and put “fantasy football cheat sheet” into the search engine bar.

2.) Click on the first link that comes up.

3.) On that page, look all the way to the right and click on “Top 300” link.

4.) Start with player No. 1 and click on each name in blue to see their head shots. When you find a player that you would totally make out with at a bar, pick them. If you would NOT make out with them at a bar, move down the list, completely ignoring their rankings.

5.) Repeat step 4 until everyone has picked players.

6.) Rake in your winnings.

IT’S THAT EASY!!!

So, here is my fantasy team. Literally! Ahahaha. Good-looking, NOT AFRAID TO SMILE IN A PHOTO and each earning a billion dollars a year.*

Drew Brees – Quarterback

Look at those nice white teeth! Those friendly eyes!! Also, he can walk on water.

C.J. Spiller - Running back
I'd pinch those cheeks and press my palms against that jawline all day.

Fred Jackson – Wide receiver

Mmmm. Another nice jawline. And what tasteful facial hair you have!

Larry Fitzgerald – Wide receiver

AWWWW Look how happy he looks!!! I can just imagine how cute he would be in person, laughing at all my hilarious jokes. And there’s nothing wrong with a man who can rock the jewelry.

Calvin Johnson – Wide receiver


He looks a little naughty in this photo, no? I'm certainly not one to complain about frisky.

Lance Moore – Wide receiver

Moore is more!!! At least that’s what it says on dem black and gold T-shirts. He’s adorable. Also, I overheard a waitress say he was the most attractive person she’d ever seen in real life. So...jealously points. Score.

Owen Daniels – Tight end

Doesn’t he look like the cutest high school history teacher ever?? I can see him in khaki pants and a distressed leather belt. I wonder if he has a sexy pair of glasses he can try on for me...in bed.

Mason Crosby – kicker

To be honest, none of the kickers really did it for me. And this guy does have a Teen Wolf thing going on...but regardless...I want our baby to have his eyes.

Chad Ochocinco – Wide receiver

Google him. Shirtless.

Sam Bradford – Quarterback

Look how innocent!!! The cutest eighth grader ever!!! With great hair!!! Awww, Sam, let's get carded at R rated movies together.

Ben Tate – Running back

He looks chill. He doesn’t have a steroid face. He actually has quite a symmetrical face, if you stare at him…for hours.

Ronnie Brown – Running back

He looks sweet, like he'd keep a secret and write poetry. (He is also a sub for Rashad Jennings, who was my original pick but got injured. I learned how to trade.)

Jacoby Ford – Wide receiver

“The other Reggie Bush” a.k.a the guy who looks a lot like him, only not a pansy.


Chris Cooley – Tight end

Ahhhh! The frat boy I never dated! With blue eyes!!

WELL???

I did pretty good, huh? They’re all tight ends in my book!!! Ahahaha

(Sorry, bad Cathy comic joke. Yes, Cathy comic. ACK!)

Um.
Anyway.

After showing my fantasy picks to my football fanatic friends, I’ve been told I made some critical mistakes (despite the fact that it's the best-looking team in the draft).

Most notably, the fact that I picked "shitty" running backs.

(It’s not MY fault that wide receivers in this league are a better-looking group!!!)

Also, people say it’s not a good idea to have two running backs from the same team on a fantasy team.

I tried to defend my picks: “But if you have two of the same players, than that means at least one of them is definitely getting the ball!”

Right??
(Wrong.)

The truth is, I didn't even notice they were on the same team, let alone held the same position when I picked them.

Basically, I'm making a mockery of the sport.

No matter!!! Let’s get this show on the road!!!

I want big plays!! Touchdown dances!!!

Take your helmet off and wink at the camera as often as possible!!!!

Game on.

-Jenny

*If by chance you are one of these players reading this, CALL ME! I promise I won’t write about you in a Toolbag Tuesday.

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

My friend Brenna’s birthday was coming up, and the guy she was dating, Nick, suggested they go to New York to celebrate.

Nick's family owned a fancy condo with another family and it was empty that weekend --- a perfect place to celebrate.

Brenna was excited about the trip. She loves New York and these accommodations were far more luxurious than sleeping on the couch at her friend’s tiny apartment.

And it made her feel good that Nick suggested the trip in the first place. He liked her enough to travel on a plane from New Orleans to New York with her!!

SCORE!!!

Brenna and Nick knew each other in high school, but had never considered dating or even becoming good friends until 10 years later.

They both found themselves back in New Orleans after being away for school, and started going out on cute dates to the nicest restaurants in the city.

One night, after a delicious dinner, Nick said they had to buy their plane tickets to New York that night.

They decided to pay for their own tickets separately, with Nick expressly stating that the ticket was the only thing Brenna would be paying for during their entire New York excursion.

“You’re really serious?” Brenna asked before clicking “PURCHASE TICKET.”

“Oh yea,” Nick said. “The condo is amazing. We can walk to all these places.”

The whole thing was so romantic. They’d go to a museum, maybe catch a Broadway show, eat their way through the city.

(After purchasing the tickets, they went to bed...to celebrate.)

The trip was two weeks away. Brenna got in touch with her friends who live in New York to plan a night they could all go to dinner.

She was excited for them to meet Nick, the man who liked her so much he invited her to stay with him at his parents’ New York condo for a weekend.

The whole thing was shaping up to be the best birthday ever.

Brenna even went shopping for new clothes, a birthday present to herself.

Then, TWO DAYS before the trip, Nick came over.

With no warning or real reason, he said, “I’m sorry…but I’m not feeling this relationship anymore.”

Brenna’s jaw dropped. She suddenly felt weak standing up.

“Wait…what?” she asked shocked.

“I don’t think this is going to work out,” Nick said.

Brenna was furious and embarrassed. What happened?

All of her and Nick's hopes and dreams shattered in her head.

“What about New York?” she asked.

“I’m canceling my ticket,” Nick said. “But you should still go. You’ve got friends there, right?”

Brenna felt like throwing a fit.

WHY WOULD SHE WANT TO GO ALONE?? This was supposed to be their trip TOGETHER! IN HIS PARENTS’ CONDO!!

She had just spent $300 for a plane ticket!! For a trip HE SUGGESTED!

Brenna hadn’t even considered getting travel insurance to refund her ticket. But really, who can predict a canceled flight due to a toolbag who "isn't feeling it" for some reason TWO DAYS before your trip???

ON YOUR BIRTHDAY WEEKEND!

Brenna ended up saying "eff it" and taking the trip to New York by herself.

She arranged to stay with her friends and still had a good time going to dinner, museums and a Broadway show.

I suppose there are worse things than celebrating your birthday in New York.

Like having your birthday beach vacation get rained out because of a Tropical Storm.

Which is exactly what happened for Nick's birthday at a beach house this past Labor Day weekend.

It had been clear and sunny for the past month and right as the weekend began, the sky opened up and everyone got pummeled with rain for all three days.

Brenna smiled more than once thinking about it.

I guess God just wasn’t feeling his birthday this year.

-Jenny

Lunch M-F

Now that I’m back at a full-time job, I’m back to figuring out what to eat for lunch.

Doesn’t that sound so depressing? Scheduling your day around a mid-day meal??

But the life of a cube monkey is often boring and monotonous and according to Ryan Howard from The Office: “Lunch is the only thing I can control.” (AMERICA!!! F YEA!!!)

But choosing what to eat for lunch isn't that easy.

There are hundreds and hundreds of options, and since I’m not in college anymore, I have to factor in dumb adult things like my bank account balance and number of calories from fat per serving.

(One thing is the same from college: If I’m hungover, I will nourish the pit in my stomach with greasy pizza and/or pasta. That’s easy.)

But on non-hungover 9-5 days, I find myself constantly weighing (no pun intended) what I eat for lunch based on these common, very boring requirements:

CHEAP!

It’s hard to find a delicious lunch at a restaurant under $10. And even the “cheap” options aren’t so cheap. (Embarrassing story: I actually paid $8 + for an egg salad sandwich last week. EGG SALAD.)

Of course, when you have money to spend on luxuries like multi-grain bread and alfalfa sprouts, it’s fine.

But, if you’re like me and manage your money perfectly so that you have $26 total in your bank account a few days before your next payday, spending $10 on a turkey sandwich isn’t doable.

That’s when I activate my cheapest lunch options: the frozen meal or fast food dollar menu.

Sodium intake be damned!!! Have you seen the delicious-looking picture on the box? Restaurant quality for $3??? You can't beat it. That’s four days of lunch AND dinner on a $26 budget people!!!

Sure, it’s not super classy eating food out of a black, plastic container, and sure, sometimes you bite into noodles that are cold in the middle, but at least you won’t have to steal food from your roommate…again.

Fast food is another cheap option, although it ruins my appetite when I think about where exactly they got chicken that only costs a dollar.

But, fast food won’t fall into the next requirement…

HEALTHY!

If I’ve learned anything from my Twitter account, it’s the tweets from the “Eat this not that” person.

No sauces or spreads!

No carbs!

No French fries!

No fatty meat!

This is why salads are a staple lunch item and are everywhere with their dried cranberries and orange slices.

And why people battle the ridiculous Whole Foods parking lot to get their three-bean Guatemalan soup and Mediterranean tuna salad (which may or may not put them on a path to enlightenment. Ha. Sorry. Carry on with your Patchouli.)

Appealing to the healthy lunch crowd is also why Jamba Juice just opened next to my office, taunting me with good-looking 20-somethings on the wall with shiny hair and white teeth.

Subway is a decent and common healthy lunch spot and BONUS! you can find one every two miles, but in order to keep it healthy, you can’t have anything delicious on it like mayo or that bread with the cheese.

Of course, you can always fall back on the Lean Cuisine frozen meals for a healthy option.

Sigh.

TIME!

Sometimes you need to get something quick because you’re behind deadline, and sometimes you want to stretch out your lunch break as long as possible because your boss is out of town.

That’s when you plan your lunch around how far from the office you want to travel and whether or not you want to actually sit down at Applebee’s or just get their lunch combo to go (uh, for example.)

If it’s a to-go order, then you have to weigh what will still be delicious even after sitting under a heat lamp for 20 minutes. (Hint: NOT crab cakes).

OTHER! (FILL-IN-THE-BLANK)

The thing about lunch is that it serves very different purposes for everyone. For me, it’s for practical purposes like getting out of the office and uh, feeding myself.

Others use lunch as a status quo, and make sure to go to fancy places to be seen, or impress clients with tableside Caesar Salad and freshly shaved Parmesan.

These lucky 9-5 lunchers aren’t ruled by money, saturated fat content or time restrictions. They can simply eat "whatever they feel like" that day. Bastards.

I, too, hope to reach that lunchtime nirvana.

But until then, Lean Cuisine will always be in business.

-Jenny