jenn said what?!

i have discovered that i am someone who cries at weddings, which actually came as a huge shock to me but i suppose i’m okay with it.

by Jenn on February 21, 2012

I had the great fortune to serve as a bridesmaid in my lovely friend Jessica’s wedding this past weekend. In addition to being a wonderful and hilarious friend, she has great taste in destination wedding locations, so we were off to the Dominican Republic for four days of tropical weather, all-inclusive food and drink, and a beautiful wedding celebration.

It was so beautiful that it was worth taking 3 flights to get there and spending the night in the Puerto Rican airport next to an old Haitian man who kept fondling himself. It was worth the exhaustion and the time off from work and three days of rainy Dominican Republic weather, just for one gorgeous and sunshine-filled wedding day.

Seeing as how I had never been a bridesmaid before and the last wedding I attended was a boring, super-religious ceremony four and a half years ago, I had no idea what to expect. But as Jessica and Tom read their vows and said I do, I found myself crying. Not a little glisten in my eye, but a full on, tears-streaming-down-my- face cry and I couldn’t stop myself.

Here I am, a semi-cynical single girl, watching one of my best friends declare her love for this man and watching him do the same, and I am reminded that love is not this nebulous notion that I once thought I felt, but rather something real and important that I will one day feel again. I am so honored to have been able to be part of their special day, and I have a renewed outlook that one day they will be able to be part of mine.

So thank you, Jess, for being the best bride ever and being a living reminder that manicorns exist – cheers to you and T!

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autonomous crying, the adult milestones, and something called a “radiator support” actually exists and it can be really expensive to fix.

by Jenn on February 13, 2012

in Thoughts

I was fully conscious of the fact that this was an Adult Situation That I Should Be Capable of Handling.

It’s just a car, right?

But it wasn’t just a car. It was 9:30 on a Saturday morning, it was a fluke incident that could not have been more random, and it was a frustrating phone call with Volkswagen who had me speak to three different people who simply could not comprehend that not only would I have to cancel my service appointment that morning seeing as how my bumper was now dragging on the ground, but I would also now like to tow my car to their body shop to fix said dragging bumper.

It was a situation that I’ve never dealt with occurring at a time when I was too exhausted to be rational that turned this Adult Situation That I Should Be Capable of Handling into one Where I Called My Mother Crying, seeking her reassurance and guidance.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

As I make my way through my twenties, I encounter situations that I am unprepared for in the sense that I have not experienced them up until the point that I do, yet I am fully prepared for in the sense that I’ve been raised to be independent and confident and capable of navigating new situations that I have not experienced. It is a strange feeling to consciously talk yourself off the ledge and be simultaneously dialing your parents, tears streaming down your face because you also haven’t yet learned how to be upset or frustrated without this inconvenient autonomous biological response.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Growing up, I thought there were certain Adult Milestones that marked the passage of time and maturity. Go to college, get married, buy a house, have children. They were far off goals that lacked the nuances of the process and path I would take to achieve them. These far off goals did not factor into account the making of me as a person, a person who would ultimately get a degree and perhaps one day marry and have children, but who would also experience a million and one emotions and growth opportunities along the way.

I’ve come to realize that the actual Adult Milestones are fairly inconsequential in the bird’s eye view of life. I’ve had countless small moments where I have felt, either right then or in reflection, that something notable was happening and developing me into the woman that I will become.

Being rejected from job after job and learning to handle that with grace and persistence.

Being in charge of another life – even if it’s just a pet – and being the only one responsible for his health and life.

Paying off debt and making sure bills are paid on time and financing major purchases like a washer & dryer and a grown up, non-IKEA couch.

Taking a leap of faith and moving across the country in pursuit of love and finding your own place when that doesn’t work out.

Discovering what you believe in and where you draw your line and how you stand up for yourself.

Making a mistake at work and taking ownership of that mistake and pledging to turn that sinking feeling in your stomach into a lesson for the future.

In the end, it’s not the big milestones of getting a degree, or getting married and having babies that I will remember as Important Defining Milestones; rather it will be the small and seemingly inconsequential moments that I’ve had, that I continue to have every day, that will be the ones to shape me, that will transform adolescence into adulthood and a girl into a woman.

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“It’s because we have a female pilot. She’s probably doing her hair.”

by Jenn on February 6, 2012

in Rants

“It’s because we have a female pilot. She’s probably doing her hair.”

Those words were actually spoken to me yesterday as I sat on a plane from Chicago to Atlanta, waiting for it to take off. We had pulled back from the gate yet hadn’t started for the runway, and it had reached that uncomfortable amount of time when people start fidgeting, myself included.

I think I even started the conversation with the man seated across the aisle from me, an older guy probably in his late 50s or early 60s, commenting how all of the waiting is why I hate flying so much.

“It’s because we have a female pilot. She’s probably doing her hair.”

I let out a half-laugh, half-cough in response, too in shock to put on my Serious Face so abruptly. We did indeed have a female pilot, but we clearly weren’t delayed due to her hair needs.

I recovered and responded to him, saying that I was personally offended by that and it was inappropriate, but it was too late. He thought I was joking and laughed me off.

I spent the rest of the flight brainstorming all the ways I wish I had handled the situation.

Stand up and announce his comment to the people seated around me, asking them if they thought that was an appropriate comment to make, and publicly shaming him for being so nonchalant with his misogyny.
Tell him I hope he doesn’t have daughters, because god forbid someone trivializes them after they’ve trained and mastered their profession like this woman clearly had.

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“Trophies are better seen, not heard.”

If you haven’t heard by now, Gisele is under fire for making comments about the Patriots’ loss in the Super Bowl last night. Her husband, Tom Brady, is the Pats quarterback and she was caught on camera saying that her husband cannot throw the ball and catch it at the same time, insinuating that the receivers should not have dropped the ball so much.

Out of context, it seems like a bitter comment to make. In context, it is clear that Gisele spoke these words quietly, and only after being heckled by bystanders as she left the game on Sunday. They’re comments that any frustrated fan would have made, and coming from the woman who emailed all her friends and family asking for prayers and support for her husband before his big game, it’s understandable that she was sad for him.

But apparently certain football fans think that a wife has no right to make those comments. Particularly a trophy wife such as Gisele.

This tweet showed up in my timeline this afternoon, and my jaw dropped.

A beautiful woman is not allowed to express her frustration and opinion simply because she is beautiful? She was merely put on this earth to stand there and look pretty? Being a supermodel immediately negates her intellect? I’m appalled.

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I’m far from a marginalized population. As an upper-middle class Caucasion with a private school education and a savings account, I can’t claim many hardships in my life. I am blessed, for sure. Maybe if my life had been harder, these small annoyances would roll off my back and I could move on with my day without feeling anger and rage boil up inside me. Instead, I feel compelled to speak out, louder and louder each time I encounter a situation in which my gender is trivialized, stereotyped or otherwise not taken seriously.

I don’t want to be the angry feminist. I don’t want to watch the Super Bowl commercials and dissect each one for its sexist overtones, subtle or overt. I don’t want to lecture strangers about the impact their comments and behavior have on those around them, especially children and especially their sons. I don’t want to go on dates and have men be scared off when these topics come up and I stand strong with my beliefs.

I want to laugh at jokes that are funny, jokes that don’t cater to the lowest common denominator of sexism. I want to experience a man who is turned on by my strength and power, not intimidated by it or judgmental of it. I want to be able to be emotional without having someone belittle my feelings by writing me off for PMS.

I don’t think these are unreasonable things to want, but they are proving difficult to find. And so I become the angry feminist. The one constantly lecturing and calling out and being disappointed, and I will continue to do so in the desperate hope that one day it will trickle down somewhere and have an impact on someone. Anyone.

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in which i share with you the contents of my freezer and offer you the chance to win delicious cookies, but not from my freezer because that would just be weird.

by Jenn on February 1, 2012

in My Life

I don’t understand people who say they don’t like dessert. It just does not compute in my brain because I seem to have this insatiable desire for all things sugar-related. Cake, cupcakes, brownies, cookies, ice cream, candy, chocolate, spoonfuls of sugar to help the medicine go down… You name, I will consume it. You know that scene in Elf where Buddy lists off the elves’ four main food groups?

Candy, candy canes, candy corns, and syrup!

That’s me. In fact, if you looked through my freezer right now, you’d find equal parts frozen vegetables and assorted frozen desserts. (We won’t go into the fact that the vegetables have been sitting there in all of their freezer-burned glory for nearly a year.)

This is all to say, I was super excited to win the Bloggers in Sin City giveaway for six delicious cookies from Bitter Baking Co. While everyone else was squealing¹ over the vodka in our swag bag, I was busy shoving a cookie down my throat.

And now YOU get to shove cookies down YOUR throat too!

In addition to receiving six cookies of my own, I get to share the calories and give six cookies away to you poor, cookie-deprived people. I know, I know, I’m really generous with all of my calories. No need to thank me.

Want to win? Just head over to Bitter Baking Co and check out their selection of extremely witty cookie designs and tell me which one is your favorite. Better yet, come up a hilarious message of your own and share it in the comments!

For an extra entry, go over and like the Bitter Baking Co on Facebook and let me know. For a third entry, tweet about the giveaway and link to it down below. The winner will be chosen via random.org next Wednesday, February 8th at 3 pm EST. Right after I get back from the dentist, because that makes sense.

Now go get your cookie on!

¹ This is funny for anyone who was at the poolside challenge in Vegas last year. Tee hee.

Winner Update: Random.org chose comment #11, which goes to Maxie! Congrats, my dear.

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lessons from dating and hating people for twelve months and counting.

by Jenn Keep reading →

It struck me recently that it has been approximately a year since I’ve liked someone. At least romantically speaking. (I generally like my friends. I find that helpful in a friendship.) During my six month existence on Match.com, I went out with lots of guys. I would even concede that I dated one of them, [...]

a woman’s arsenal