TOOLBAG TUESDAY

I got stood up last weekend by a guy I met on a stupid dating APP, and I’m pretty sure he stood me up because he saw me in person and then ran away.

…YES HUH.

Sure, there could be another explanation, but Andrew (real name!!!! F*CKER.) didn’t give me any other logical reason.

Andrew and I had chatted quite well on the APP and then via text message for two weeks before deciding to meet face to face.

He was funny and his texts made me laugh and I mentioned I was going to a festival with some friends and he said he’d also be there and we should meet up.

Great.

Now, it’s one thing to stand someone up by not following up on plans made in advance. 

Like, making someone clear their schedule for, say, Thursday, and then let Thursday come and go without a phone call, so they cleared their Thursday for nothing.

Or even to stand someone up the day OF your date, although that’s even more embarrassing because she probably took a shower and put on makeup...just to go to the grocery store to buy a box of wine.

But it’s QUITE another thing to show up at the same festival as your blind (blonde) date, CONFIRM THAT YOU ARE THERE, get a description of where blonde date was standing and how to recognize her ….and then not show up.

That was me last weekend: “The blonde by the stage with the hound dog mix on a Saints leash.”

…Getting stood up.

That was my biggest mistake. ME telling HIM where I was standing and what I looked like, completely wide open. 

Now HE had all the power to secretly peek at me from afar like a sniper and decide NOT to say hello.

I was the one sticking out like a sore thumb, the blonde with a very specific dog on a leash by the stage. 

There were no other blondes, and no other hound dogs.

It was humiliating.

I looked all around for 30 minutes after I sent the text to Andrew, making pathetic, hopeful eye contact at every male that looked as if he was walking in my direction.

(Andrew, on the other hand, was incredibly generic-looking in his online photos - young, athletic, brown hair, brown eyes, no facial hair or any definable features. He could have very well just walked by me without me noticing.)

Which he probably did.

After it was clear he wasn't showing up, I got pissed. 

Who DOES that to a person?? 

Why couldn't he have just sent a B.S. text with something like, “Big emergency – I just broke my leg?"

Or even one saying sorry.

But no. Thirty minutes of my life waiting for this douchebag who lacks even the tiniest dick thread of common decency.

And before you ask, YES, I KNOW HE WAS THERE because he knew there was a guy on stage playing drums dressed like a chicken. 

(In one of his earlier texts.)

So....C-O-O-L. I got to experience the WORST, rudest, most inconsiderate type of standing-up behavior ever.

Yes, I had a good time at the festival with my friends anyway, but the afternoon was tinged by the fact that I got completely, mortifyingly stood up...because I guess I wasn’t pretty enough.

Naturally, I blamed it on the dog.

“Wow. Lame.” I texted to Andrew several hours later, after lots of beer.

Unanswered.

Unanswered, just like the email from the online APP asking me why I quit.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

Now that I live back in South Carolina, I live with a dog for the first time in ten years.

It’s my twin sister’s dog named Roux, a beagle hound mix, and aside from the stuffed up nose every morning when I wake up (it goes away mom), she’s great.

I really love playing tug-of-war with Roux in the house because I get an arm workout pulling her from room to room, dragging her by the toy in her mouth.

But I found I also look forward to seeing what toy she’s going to choose from her pile the next day.

(And they say having a dog isn’t like having a child. Pssh.)

She has a toybox of, like, twelve toys of all shapes, sizes and consistencies (rubber, cloth, bone, rope knot, stupid sweaky thing) and for two days she’ll like one toy – say, the shark guy – and then she’ll be UN-interested in that toy for the rest of the week. It’s hilarious.

NOT hilarious? When she finds MY things to chew up, like my backup pair of glasses, a bottle of 5-hour energy and my sweet earmuffs.

Ugh.

Having a pet that likes to chew things can be a real B.

Especially in relationships. Haha

I have a question: Why do Pit Bulls like to chew up the BRASof girls who sleep over at their male owner’s house??

Why ??  

Are they deprived of toys that have hook and eyes??

AND WHY DO JACK RUSSELLS LIKE TO EAT TAMPONS??

This guy Andrew's cat, who acted like a dog, went one step further.

And I can’t believe I’m just now writing about it. I heard this story so long ago.

Andrew the cheater, whoose CAT ratted him out. (huh huh get it)

I’m not going to get into any details (mom), but Andrew and my friend Susan were in a relationship, and for whatever reason they were not using, uh…protection.

Susan said Andrew had been acting really distant and had conveniently not been available for about a WEEK, when they had the WTF is going on talk at his apartment. 

The apartment he lived in by himself.

I remember she said Andrew acted totally cool – nothing, nothing’s going on! – and she sat there for a good half hour trying to make him understand how sketchy he had been acting.

“Look, why can't I just go out on a Saturday without calling you or telling you what I’m doing??”

Ugh.

Susan said right as he was in the middle of this SPEECH of his, defending himself, the cat walked into the room...with, uh, PROTECTION. In his mouth.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DRAGGING IT! LIKE A WIENER DOG DRAGGING A SOCK!!!

Of course, neither of them knew immediately what it was, and Andrew stopped talking as he crept closer to see the cat's new toy.

And then Susan saw it. They both did.

The used condom the cat dragged in.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

(Uh, it wasn't THEIR used condom.)

"WHAT THE F---!!!” Susan said she screamed as Andrew held it in his hand. 

Of course, he said he didn’t know where it came from.

In his OWN apartment. 

Susan then gave us a dramatic replay of her speech (which I really hope was verbatim) about how Andrew was a piece of shit and a cheater and how she’d still believe his lies if it wasn’t for his CAT, the only NOBLE person in the house.

The NOBLE detective!

Hahahahahahahahahaha

Hahahahahahaha

We nearly died.

Wait, now that I think about it, I hope that cat lived after that.

Hmmm.

I’m buying Roux a new chew toy.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

Ryan’s rules for how to date a girl: Be schizophrenic.

That way you get the best of both worlds. You can talk like you want to get married and settle down, but then act like you just want a casual relationship!

(No, that won’t piss anyone off.)

Ryan, a hot boat salesman, met my friend Lena at happy hour one day and they started dating.

It had been a month and they were having a great time and Lena started hinting that they be exclusive, to which Ryan didn’t respond.

Shortly after that, Ryan announced that he was going out of town for the weekend, just to get away, and that he’d call Lena during the trip.

But he didn’t. He didn’t call her once the whole weekend and when Monday came, Lena was still staring at her phone.

“I actually worried about him and thought something had happened to him,” she recalls.

After several attempts to reach him, Ryan finally got back with her Wednesday. 

It turns out he was just fine, he was, uh, deliberately avoiding her.

Why would he do such a thing??

“He had decided that I was so great and wonderful that he could never be the man I deserve,” Lena recalls.

Hahahahahaha

(It’s not you, it’s ME.)

We all called B.S. and figured this was his way of getting out of the relationship. 

But then Ryan became schizophrenic.

Not even a week later, he started texting and calling again, telling Lena that he really DID want to live happily ever after with her.

“He would blow up my phone telling me he wanted to marry me one day and I was so beautiful and amazing that he was scared,” Lena said.

Hahahahahahaha

Lena, of course, fell for this, and they started casually dating once more. 

But after a month Ryan suddenly got cold feet, saying he’s not ready for a "real commitment."

Hahahaha

(Yea...he’s not schizophrenic. He's a liar.)

It was infuriating. HE would propose all these marriage fantasies to Lena, and then crush them along with her hopes and dreams. 

...Over and over.

Ugh. 
How self-entitled.

It’s like my former cat when he acted like he wanted to go outside but then would stare at the open door while I stood there holding it for him like an asshole.

It was his favorite game. 

Ryan was playing a similar game with Lena in order to keep her standing there like an asshole. 

(I want to marry you, NO I DON'T. I want to be with you forever. NO I DON'T. I want to love you. WHERE'S THE TUNA FISH)

Unfortunately, Lena kept falling for it, and the cycle continued for four months - Ryan saying that he wants to pre-order a white picket fence for them (not really), but then telling her after a few weeks that all of these plans (that HE proposed) were just “too much.”

“Too overwhelming.”

Ugh.

SHUT THE DOOR, LENA.

This guy’s not going anywhere.

-Jenny

Facebook status updates I'd post if my mom and boss weren't my friends

Ok, who the F is Joe Flacco??

I love champagne; it’s always raisin the roof

I found an unopened can of Schlitz in the back of my car and was like yeeeeea

Never deep fry candy bars at home; that’s my new rule

If there were no glasses, I’d die from natural selection

CALL UNITED CAB SIRI GOD DAMMIT

Man, Mardi Gras makes it really hard to remember to take birth control

Van Morrison playing on the radio: “F this song, no one in this car has brown eyes!!!”

My bikini waxer quit #whitegirlproblems

My friends and I literally just cleaned a bar out of all their Abita strawberries

People with cloth bags at the grocery store make me feel like an asshole

I use the men’s room on the regular.

I’m the least photogenic person ever. If you see a photo of me where I look like a stroke patient, I’m really just having a good time.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

OK, I found it. I found the worst possible thing you can hear from your husband after you have your first baby.

“I’m in love with a North Korean woman.”

(Oh, and you’re white.)

This is what happened to Lauren, my friend's friend, who made the mistake of marrying Paul.

Paul and Lauren were high school sweethearts and were each other’s one and only. When Paul signed up for the military, they quickly eloped and officially planned their lives together.

Lauren got pregnant pretty quickly after that, but then Paul had to be deployed to…North Korea. For a year.

It was devastating that he wouldn’t be there during her pregnancy to lift the heavy things and tell her she was pretty.

But so is life as a military wife, so she kissed him goodbye and told him that when he got back, the baby would be born!!!

They emailed as often as they could and Lauren was under the impression that everything would be the same when he returned.

But NO. 

Paul returned after his stint to tell her that he fell in love with a North Korean woman overseas.

...In the same conversation as telling his son “hi” for the first time.

Jesus.

“You’re in love with WHO?” Lauren asked. "What? Where? How? When?"

All the common questions.

Paul said he couldn’t help himself. 
It was lonely over there. 
They had been pen pals for a while (Ed note: WTF?) and it turned into a relationship.

“So what, are you going to move back to North Korea?” Lauren asked, devastated.

“No,” he said.

???

“So…what? Are you going to date her long-distance now?”

“No,” he said.

WHAT?!???

NO??

So, this news was just an F.Y.I.???

It was confusing. This North Korean woman was so important that she came between them, but not worth his continued passion?

Lauren thought maybe Paul wanted to work things out with HER, and just had a guilty conscience about this other woman, but NO.

NO AGAIN.

Paul said these straying feelings means that OBVIOUSLY he doesn’t have feelings for Lauren anymore. 

He has feelings for foreign chicks.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FOREIGN CHICKS!!!!

He abroadened his mind!!

Lauren then had to see Paul date – and fall in love with – women of all backgrounds as she lived her life as a single American.

Ugh.

How do you say ‘shithead’ in five languages?

-Jenny

How it’s going

It’s been three weeks since I moved from New Orleans to South Carolina, and it’s been hard convincing myself that I’m NOT really just on vacation.

Maybe it’s because I moved over Christmas, a vacation for everyone, and then it was New Years, a vacation for everyone and maybe it’s because all my things are still in boxes. Uh...that’s normal right??

Or MAYBE it’s because no one has PINCHED me yet!!!

Because — and I wish I could say this more succinctly — I LOVE being back here. 

So much so that I feel like God is going to play a sick joke and two big fingers will come down and pluck me away saying, “YOU don’t deserve this, silly little girl!!! Muhahahahaha!!!!”

(My New Year’s resolution to be less neurotic is *really* working out, guys)

I love that I live with and IP-SO FACT-O get to see my twin sister, Joy, in person every day.

And I can’t wait to go on (and blog about) Joy’s embarrassing moments new adventures after three-and-a-half years of being long-distance twins.

I love that my best friend Meredith also moved from New Orleans to South Carolina and we either talk or see each other every day. And how she’s going to teach me how to surf this summer.

And I love my new job here. LOVE!!!

(DON’T SNATCH ME AWAY, BIG FINGER!!)

I know I’ve only been at the job for six days, but LOVE. LOVE LOVE. LOVE.

I know! I hate me too!!! 

BEST VACATION EVER!!!

It’s really nice being in a functioning work environment with people who care about what they’re doing and care about the news print product.

And who buy popcorn for the break room.

And I get a window!! I haven’t seen the light at work in YEARS! Haha

(I’ve already been distracted by heavy rain, in case you were wondering.)

It’s also been easier than I thought getting back into the mix with my friends here. Not that I thought it would be hard, but everyone is still great and I still fit in. And my new roommate, (besides Joy) Marie, is fantastic.

I know, PUKE right!!!

But wait...don’t sign me off yet!!!

Three things have been hard:

1.) Missing my New Orleans friends

2.) Explaining my move to people and

3.) Sleep.

Oh man, sleep.

I have nightmare-d everything possible in the past three weeks, from feral cats clawing at my face, car brakes going out, my car wheels FALLING OFF mid-drive, and of course, the classic: trying to plead for help to a group of people and no one will listen.

PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!!!!!!!!

(Hmmm. Maybe that’s not a dream.)

On missing my New Orleans friends: I MISS MY NEW ORLEANS FRIENDS!! 

I look at everyone’s Facebook pages and the contact list in my phone after I’ve had wine and get sad.

And yesterday when I worked out at Crossfit, (trial classes, don’t expect me to hashtag it like everyone else. Cult.), it reminded me of these workout classes I took at a martial arts gym in New Orleans where my friends worked out with me and I got a little choked up.

Really. Choked up. Right by the pullup bar.

And can we talk about the SAINTS and how no one gives a shit about them here??? 

I’m in stupid PANTHER land with stupid Cam Newton who is NOT Superman and NOT Clark Kent and shooooo I would NOT be his Lois Lane, even though I’m a reporter and wear glasses (AND HAVE A WINDOW!!)

I remember this story about how my friend was grocery shopping at Conseco’s in New Orleans and some lady employee came on the overhead speaker just to say WHO DAT WHO DAT WHO DAT really fast and then hung up. No specials on produce or anything.

Now when I say to people “BLACK AND GOLD SUUU-PA BOWL!” they just laugh at me.

And the explaining my move to people.

“I just moved back from New Orleans. No, I’m not from here, I just used to live here. I went to college here and then stayed for ten years. That’s why I say ‘moved back.’ I’m not, like, new.”

“I moved back to New Orleans three-and-a-half years ago, and now I moved back here.”

“I’m bi-coastal. Gulf and East.”

Ha

Well, I guess it’s not that hard to explain.

Ok so TWO things have been hard. (That’s what she said?)

Two ain’t bad.

Yay vacay.

-Jenny                           

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

When I was in sixth grade, I got my mom to yell at the people at Delia*s online catalog over the phone because they wouldn’t honor the $19.99 jean jacket price that was clearly printed on the page.

“That clearance is over,” the woman said. “The jacket is back to the original price of $40.” 

"Over??" I asked. "I just got this catalog a few days ago!"

I didn’t have any more allowance money to give to my mom in exchange for her credit card to buy it, so like any good sixth grader, I put my mom on the phone to fix it. 

She said adult words like “there's no expiration date,” and “taking advantage of these elementary school kids,” and done. 

She got that jacket for $19.99 (plus shipping).

NEGOTIATION!!! 

It’s kind of funny to remember that story after hearing about this handyman guy, Brad, who did sort of the same thing, only…he’s... 35 years old. 

And instead of Delia*s who got yelled at, it was my friend Lauren who got yelled at over their AGREED UPON price of him installing a new door in her house. 

Yelled at!!!

By...his dad.

Hahahahahahaha

No, for real.

This only works if you’re in the sixth grade!  

And…if you are, indeed, getting hosed. 

Neither was the case here.

Lauren needed someone to install a new back door after grubby thieves broke into her house when she was on vacation. 

Been there. Ugh.

Scared, pissed and now broke, Lauren was looking for an inexpensive way to replace her things and doors (Homeownership!! F yea!!!) when a mutual friend suggested Brad.

“He’s a handyman! He’s my Facebook friend! Give him a call!”

Lauren said she called Lowe’s first to see how much it would cost to buy a door and have professionals install it. She then called Brad and told him that if he could do the work for $50 cheaper, she’d use him. 

That’s seems pretty fair, right?!??

Brad accepted the offer, BECAUSE IT WAS FAIR, but Lauren said she spent all that Saturday raising one damn eyebrow because it took him SIX HOURS to install a door. 

“It was six hours, I kid you not,” she said, recalling that she wasn’t able to leave the house until he was done.

The people at Lowe’s promised they could install it within an hour. 

Clearly, Brad was an idiot fraud. 

Lauren asked him if he was OK, if he needed a hammer or something to help with the process, but he just grunted and said he was “still working on it.” 

Mosquitoes were now getting in the house. 

Lauren almost died when she saw a strange car pull into her driveway. WERE THE THEIVES BACK?? But that’s when Brad said casually, “Oh, yea, that’s just my dad. I called him to help me.” 

HIS DAD?!?!?

Lauren wasn’t entirely comfortable having two male strangers in her house, but she wanted the door to be done. So she offered the men both glasses of water as they were on their hands and knees trying to finish the installation. 

Finally, after over seven hours of being inconvenienced, the new back door was finished (and to be honest, quite sloppy work). 

Lauren rolled her eyes as she went to get her purse to pay the fraud, when she said his father CORNERED her in the next room.

“Why are you low-balling my son??” he asked. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Lauren, who was already on edge about the robbery, didn’t appreciate this surprise attack in her own living room. 

First of all, she was paying him hundreds of dollars for this. And how was this DAD'S business?? 

“This was the agreed upon price,” Lauren said. 

“Yea, well, he’s been here for SEVEN hours!” the father said, completely overlooking the fact that the reason for that was his son’s incompetence. “How much does that work out to per hour???”

HAHAHAHAHAHA

(ED NOTE: “WHY ARE YOU TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL KID?!?!?”)

No seriously. This happened. 

Dad came in to negotiate for his incompetent son by yelling about low-balling while his son clearly lacked any balls at all.

Lauren replied quite perfectly: “Look, it’s not my fault that he took this long, or that he had to call YOU to help, but this is all the money I’m giving him for the job.”

(Now that I think about it, Brad should have paid HER for the inconvenience.)

Lauren was so furious, she walked into the room, threw the money at Brad and didn’t say a word more until they both left. 

She said his dad protested again, this time in front of his son, ("I can't BELIEVE you charged this little, son") but Brad told him to stop and got embarrassed, like when your parents drop you off at a school dance. 

…In the sixth grade. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-Jenny