Bar Hopping For One: Yay Or Nay?


This post is inspired by a JenAndMen reader, who I’ll call Michelle, who wrote me the following message:

I’m going through a divorce and all my friends are married with kids. Can I just go to a bar by myself? Is that Lame Sauce or A-OK? Love your blog!

This is a really great topic to debate about: Is it okay to go to a bar alone? I’m going to say “No” — and not just because of the lameness factor. I have compiled a list because (a) it’s easy to read and (b) it’s really fun for me to both compile lists and use the word “compile” on a daily basis.

1. Bars are filled with horny, possibly crazy people…who now have access to alcohol. I honestly just don’t think it’s safe for a chick to go to a bar all by her lonesome. I mean, if the night goes really well, and you end up meeting a guy, who’s going to be able to tell the sketch artist what he looked like if you should suddenly go missing when he walks you to your car?

2. Who’s gonna distract the ugly friends? It’s also good to a have a wing-woman with you — someone to keep the gross friend or friends busy while you mack it to the guy you like. Guys think having a wingman is where it’s at. They haven’t met me as a wing-woman, yet.

3. You look really Continue reading

When The Guy You’re Dating Has A Phone Full of Naked Photos…That Are NOT Of You


One of my best friends, Marie, texted me, infuriated. “It’s not us, it’s THEM!” She proceeded to tell me a story about the guy she’s dating, Max, and what just occurred.

Max couldn’t figure out how to upload the photos from his phone onto his computer (why, no one knows), so he asked Marie for her help. While she plugged it in and did it for him, she obviously watched the pictures begin to upload onto the screen.
Continue reading

Valentines’ Slay


cupidshot_0February 14th can mean only two things to people: Love, joy, and excitement — or hatred, anger and loneliness. I think you could figure out who falls into which group. If you’re in a relationship, it’s like Christmas Part II. You get to see/show just how much you and your partner love each other, give/receive awesome gifts, and get lots and lots and lots of chocolate. What taken person wouldn’t love Valentine’s Day?

Then, of course, you have the untaken people. Untaken people don’t get the love, presents, or 7 pounds of chocolate. Instead, they get to be reminded that they are alone. This upsetting fact is already almost too much to bear the other 364 days of the year…but on a day where everyone is shoving their love for one another down their throats? It’s enough to make someone scream out on a crowded street. Continue reading

Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetie, Here’s a Salad


My boyfriend, Mark, told me about an article that asks what is and is not acceptable as a Valentine’s Day gift. Apparently a bunch of women were interviewed and 10/10 of them agreed that dinner could and should be counted as the gift itself.
I just have one question: Were these women interviewed from the confines of their rooms or in the common room at the Mental Institution they’re staying at? Continue reading

Go from Rejectional to Exceptional (Part 2)


This is a continuation of my previous post, Go from Rejectional to Exceptional (Part 1), which explains how I am doing my best-friend-duty to find Jason a girlfriend by writing to girls on Here we go again:

In the second paragraph I ask questions about her life (LIFE not DAY). This is a very common mistake guys make. Listen, buddy, I don’t care how hot you are. No girl wants to discuss her mood or her day in the first message with a complete stranger. That’s something way more intimate than guys can comprehend, and isn’t likely going to be shared immediately. Whenever I’d get a message like “How’s your day going, beautiful?” I’d usually delete it. It shows that a guy simply looked at your picture and not your profile and most likely is trying to sleep with you. Continue reading

Go from Rejectional to Exceptional (Part 1)



So lately I have been on a covert mission to get my best friend, Jason, a girlfriend. After years of hearing him complain about, the site where I met my boyfriend, I finally decided to give him some help.

After getting his username and password, I began searching for girls who I think would be a good fit for Jason (cute, family-oriented, well-rounded, good job, short). Once I find a suitable prospect, I send him a screen shot of her picture. (He couldn’t care less about her profile). If he gives me the ‘okay’, I send the girl a message. Continue reading

Drowning On A Bad First Date



This is a post about a bad date worthy of a movie, the kind I was accustomed to having way back when…

Last week, my friend Alan went on a first date with Jill, a girl he met online. Unlike traditional means, they decided to watch a movie at her apartment. While he was on his way to her, she called him.

“Do you think you can fix my toilet?” she asked, randomly. “It’s not really working the right way.”

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A Romantic Vacation Isn’t Complete Without A Head Injury



For the first time ever, I went on a romantic couple’s vacation. My boyfriend, Mark, took me to Jamaica last week. Because he is the outdoorsy type, we did some pretty crazy stuff, including ziplining, river-tubing, and climbing a waterfall. I, myself, prefer calmer activities — massages, poolside sunbathing, and peaceful kayaking off the shoreline. Well, the massage was painful as Hell, I got an insane sunburn, and the damn kayaking almost killed me! Ironic, I know.

I was mocked by the Water Sports Activities’ director the second I strapped the life vest on (with his help) and sat down in the boat.

“Have you ever kayaked before?” he asked me, smiling.

“Once, when I was younger. Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re sitting the opposite direction that you’ll be paddling. Don’t worry, he’ll still be here if you turn away from him for a few minutes,” he said, laughing.

Embarrassed, I turned myself around and proceeded to sit as Mark paddled us away from the shore.

When we got far enough away from him, I yelled “Picture time!”, adjusted my favorite pair of sunglasses, and handed him the Go Pro.

After we each took a picture of the other, I said that I wanted to get one together. However, as Mark tried to head over toward me, I knew the rocking of the kayak was way too forceful for him to move any further.

“Forget it, I don’t need the picture!” I yelled frightened, as we swayed from side to side.

But Mark is a guy, and God forbid he should listen. Within seconds, the kayak flipped and I was thrown into the ocean. With water up my nose, and my heart racing, I was just about to “I told you so” him.

That’s when it happened.

The kayak completed its flip and the water pressure sent it plummeting down directly onto my face.

For the first moment or two I felt myself passing out, but I knew I had to stay conscious to keep from drowning. I settled for crying hysterically.

Not seeing what had happened, Mark quickly went from laughing hysterically to concerned about my head injury upon seeing my tears. He flipped the kayak back over, and put me into it, before climbing back in himself.

“I have a bump!” I yelled, feeling the huge lump on my forehead.

“It’s not so bad, babe. It’s really tiny,” Mark said, trying to calm me.

I was about to argue the point, when something more important caught my eye. When I looked back at the shore, the hotel was a tiny dot in the distance. How did we get so far out?

First I panicked, then I went into survival mode. I shouted “Left” and “Right” like a drill sergeant, and we eventually paddled our way back to the director, who was no longer laughing when he saw the HUGE bump on my head, and the tears streaming down my face.

When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize Mark had lied and it looked like I had a second head growing out of my forehead. That was also the time I realized I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses in the ocean (they must have gotten knocked off my head when I was almost knocked out). That brought on a whole other set of hysterical tears.

Mark apologized for trying to take the picture even though the kayak was rocking, and made me an ice pack, which I kept pressed to my head while crying, walking through the resort and lying on the beach. I assume everyone there thought I was a battered wife, because not a single person inquired about my head injury.

It’s just my luck to get a bump the size of Texas on my romantic vacation!

Have you ever been injured on a romantic vacation?

Embarrassing Myself On Movie Dates



I hate when I laugh out loud in a movie when everyone else is silent.

About a week ago, my boyfriend, Mark, and I went to see the movie “This is 40″. Paul Rudd, the star, plays the owner of a music studio. He talks about how much he loves Simon & Garfunkel. When he and his wife get into a fight, he calls the awkward silence “The Sounds of Silence”, Simon & Garfunkel’s most famous song.

Naturally, I laughed hysterically. There was only one problem — I was the only one Continue reading

He Had The Key To Her Heart, But Not Her Jail Cell



Last month, my friend Jill spent the night with the guy she was seeing, Kyle. There was only problem: His parents were extremely strict and she wasn’t actually allowed to be there.

They were planning on beating the system by waking up at 7AM, before his parents woke up. Naturally, they overslept.

At 9:30AM, Jill called our friend Marissa.

“Mariss, you have to come get me,” she frantically whispered. I’m hiding out in Kyle’s basement until his parents go out to breakfast.” Continue reading