Tag Archives: comedy

Awkward V-day Moments With The Kids

I Want to Puke of Love and Other V-Day Inappropriateness After Having Kids This is still one of my favorite V-Day moments (awkwardness, inappropriateness, and fear for my safety aside).

On February 14th a few years back, Ry, my daughter, then 5 years old, trotted into my room to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day, to hand me a stunning hand-made card, and to neck.

Sure, they tell you not to make-out with your kids, but sometimes there’s a fine line between so cute and so scary.

What parent doesn’t secretly love it when their child says they want to marry them (assuming they’re too young for marriage at the time)? I mean, for how many more years are they going to want to hug, snuggle, or hold hands?

“This card is sooo beautiful. Come give Mommy a kiss,” I said in a very innocent non-romantic way.

Ry, maybe wanting to show me the magnitude of the holiday, grabbed my face with both hands and planted the biggest soap opera smooch on me. I started to giggle mid-peck…

“Ummm, okay cutie,” I said feeling partly amused and partly violated. Continue reading →

My New Trick To Make Me Seem Like the Perfect Parent and Spouse

In the post, I’m Freakin June Cleaver Gosh Darn’it, I realized that when you translate anything you say into the 50s speak, it makes you seem really wholesome and attentive and frankly, perfect. You know, the way British accents make you sound smart?

That said, I shall tell you about my day, 50’s style (don’t worry, I’ll translate it back), so that you can see what a little “era tweaking” can do for your reputation as a mother and a wife. (We could all use a trick or two every once in a while, no?)

50s: My darling hubby gave me a sweet peck on the cheek before leaving for work. I handed him his lunchbox with the matching thermos and he tugged on my apron string popping the back open (such a kidder, that one).

Translation: My husband grunted something about “goodbye” as he walked out (not sure, I was still half asleep) he may have slapped me on the ass, don’t really know, too groggy to recall. Continue reading →

The Most Annoying Things About Air Travel – A Nervous Flyer’s List

The Most Annoying Things About Air Travel - a Nervous Flyer's List I recently flew an airline with “open seating.” Which basically means you get an assigned boarding number (like at a deli counter), and you must fend for yourself and your family from there.

As I walked the aisle, I quickly assessed my potential row-mates. Had they recently showered? Would they take initiative in an emergency? Are they so young that they’re in diapers? Are they so old that I may need to resuscitate them during the flight? These are important observations, and because there’s not enough time for a formal interview, they need to be assessed on the fly (pun intended).

When I finally picked my seat, the look on my new neighbor’s face was one of total disdain. What I wanted to say was, “Look at me lady, it could be worse — the woman behind me has a colicky infant and the guy behind her has something that sounds like the plague!” You did OK here.

As a nervous flyer, I’m easily annoyed about things that happen on planes (clearly). So I thought I’d “air” some of my grievances about flying.

Flight attendants who are too calm. There’s turbulence that’s got me in “prayer mode” and you’re serving freakin’ coffee? If you’re so calm, how do I look to you to see if I should start worrying?
Flight attendants who aren’t calm enough. I know you’re trained to keep your cards close. They tell you to seem unfazed, even if we’re heading for certain death. So, if I see the slightest bit of fear on your face, I may try to break down the cockpit door for more information.
Airplanes with ashtrays. Hasn’t the “No Smoking” on planes rule been in effect for like 30 years? If I see an ashtray on an armrest, I know this plane is old as fuck, whether the seats are reupholstered or not. Continue reading →

Do You Suffer From Theme Park Line Dementia?

No matter how much you try to fancy it up (notice top hat ears) you still look like the guy on the right.

Me and about 200,000 other people had this brilliant idea to spend Spring Break at Walt Disney World. Sure, we could’ve done something more relaxing — like sky diving, but we chose this destination because we like lines. Love lines. Love the way that by simply roping off lines into a maze like snake shape so one could walk nearly a mile without ever leaving a room.

OK, lines make me insane, I can truly only half pay attention to anyone as I’m busily trying to assess how fast we’re moving and how much time we have left. While standing in the first line of the day, my daughter asked who played Mickey Mouse. “I don’t know. I guess Walt Disney was the first Mickey, but not anymore, he’s dead.” Maybe I should’ve thought out my response because my daughter’s reaction was to scream, O M G, MICKEY MOUSE IS DEAD??!! There are no rules in Disney about what you can and cannot say, but I’m gonna guess if there were that would literally top the chart. Holy crap. I’ve never seen so many chipper little happy faces fall into frowns and tears so quickly, as moms struggled to do damage control while intermittently giving me the stink eye.

Sadly, it went down hill from there. I began to suffer what I call “line dementia,” that’s when crazy shit comes out of your mouth simply to fill time and to mess with your children for your personal amusement — it’s somewhat of a survival tactic. Continue reading →

When Your Tween Son Pays Attention To You Act Natural

When Your Tween Son Pays Attention to You - Act Natural

My sweet amazing baby boy is now a tween. You know, that stage where moms are not quite as smart or cool … or necessary as they once were? Sure, they want you to get them a glass of water when they’re in bed. Sometimes they’ll throw you a bone and ask you to lay with them when they’re freaked out by some scary character they saw in a trailer on YouTube. Yep, they have to settle for horror movie trailers because that same annoying overprotective mother (you) said they weren’t old enough to watch Final Destination or SAW. (Smart choice)

Actually, tween really is the perfect term, as they’re truly somewhere between “Mommy will you come in my room?” and “Mom my room is off limits to you.” They’re between, “Mom I think Katie likes me because she always says ‘Hi,’ so what do I do now?” and Mom overhearing him tell some friends he wants to date Chastity because she puts out. (This is why you should never name your child Chastity … because irony is a bitch.)

I remember when the shift into tweenishness occurred. Continue reading →

10 Annoying Moms You NEVER Wanna Get Stuck With

The 6 Moms You NEVER Want To Get Stuck With

At a party last weekend, I got stuck with one of “those moms” You know, the annoying moms you dread seeing at school functions, birthday parties, playdates, or park outings? So, I decided to make a list of the most common types of annoying moms I’ve come across. This way you can avoid them before they trap you!

1. PMS Pam: Talking with this “depress-fest” is more sobering than watching an aged Gary Busey perform live. Her weighty chit chat will include talk of diseases that could strike at any time, children who were poisoned by school lunches, and Botox gone horribly, irreversibly wrong. After a few short minutes, you’ll be sucked into an abyss of worry and despair that will have you questioning your safety, your health, and your marriage.

Rule of Thumb: Never talk to her alone, as it will take another friend to pull you from the pit (hope that friend comes bearing cocktails)!

2. Know it all Nicole: This mom is like Kris Jenner, but she won’t take your family to Hawaii. She will, however, advise you how to be a better mom and wife, because frankly, who doesn’t like unsolicited advice on parenting and marriage? She’ll tell you whether you should or shouldn’t vaccinate, how to get whites their whitest, and why you can never go to a drive-thru.

Rule of Thumb: If you want her to impart her wisdom elsewhere, bring up a blush-worthy topic like blow jobs. If she doesn’t run for the hills, hear her out — you can never know too much about blow jobs — then bring up vibrators.

3. Donna Droner: Talking to Donna will make you wish you had a cyanide pellet. This chatty chick finds every detail of her stories not only imperative, but scintillating — whether she’s describing how she rescheduled her children’s annual checkups, or rattling off her 39-step trick to get discoloration out of grout. Throughout your pow-wow you’ll feign interest and nod politely, while wondering if plastic party knives are strong enough to perform Hari Kari.

Rule of Thumb: Take a fake call. If you’re not holding your phone, pick up anything, hold it to your ear and answer it.

4. Braggy Beth: This gal will make you question whether your child is stupid, lazy, or socially inept. No matter what your kid’s accomplishments are, Beth’s kids did it better, and did it earlier. “Your daughter doesn’t know her alphabet yet? Have you had that looked into? I mean, I’m sure she’s fine. It’s just that my Lily is just really advanced. She probably learned it in the womb — I mean, we taught her French in the womb. Does yours speak French yet? Sorry, that was insensitive… she barely speaks English.” Listening to her talk will bring out a shameful side of you that wants to give her perfect little angel the finger.

Rule of Thumb: Don’t give her kid the finger… kick her in the shin and run.

5. TMI Tammy: Tammy is like a bad Facebook status in the flesh. She feels that the disgusting details of the ooze in her son’s ear and the consistency of her daughter’s last bowel movement is lunchtime fare. Though you may only know her from “Meet the Teacher Night,” you somehow also know that she has an inverted uterus and hence prefers it doggy style.

Rule of Thumb: TMI Tammy can work in details that would make Eminem blush, so stick to “Hi” and “Bye” and NEVER ask how she’s doing.

6. Judgy Julie: This delightful mom is assessing your every move. On play dates, she’s estimating how many toys you have in your dining room, the sugar content in your pantry, and when you last dusted your blinds. Her goal is simple: find enough evidence to confirm what she suspected all along: She is better than you.

Rule of Thumb: Be careful how much you let Judgy Julie see because she doesn’t keep her verdicts to herself. Yep, the high fructose corn syrup snacks you offered up as team mom could be the talk of the next PTA meeting.

Addendum: 10/1 (I said there would be more and here they are…)

7. Fend For Yourself Fran: This mom sees your child as her respite. Your kid is distracting hers, so that she can get a moment of peace, a glass of wine, a few minutes to read “Mommy Porn.” She’s not concerned with what the kids are doing, as long as they’re doing it quietly… and far away. You may come to her house to find your child, miserable, hungry, bruised, or locked in a bathroom, which she will have no explanation for, as she was unaware your child needed supervision… or a glass of water, or a Bandaid, or some protective gear.

Rule of Thumb: Always have her kid at your house or send yours over to hers with a survival kit.

8. Delusional Denise: DeeDee has no clue what her child is REALLY like. She’s blissfully unaware that her darling offspring, whom you’ve seen suffocate a baby bunny, could do any wrong. If confronted, Denise will emphatically deny that it was her little angel, she’ll explain how it was surely an accident, or she’ll complain that her child always seems to be the scapegoat.

Rule of Thumb: Keep yourself your kids and your pets as far away as possible — Denise’s kids are the ones who grow up to be serial killers.

9. Stalky Samantha: Samantha wants your life. She will sidle her way into plans with you. She’ll make sure her kids get close to your kids, sign them up for the same activities, clubs, teams, and classes. She’ll call other people to determine where you are at any given time. Her covert detective skills include frequent drive-bys, constant contact through scouring pictures and updates on social media, and oddly “running into you” like, everywhere.

Rule of Thumb: Be careful with this one, as we all know how stalker movies turn out… plus you’re probably convinced she has weird super powers like super hearing or ESP. (Well, that’s just silly because she’s actually a vampire.)

10. Me Me Mimi: “Enough about you, more about Mimi,” is her slogan. “What? Your child is allergic to peanuts and went into anaphylactic shock at school? I totally know what that’s like. That happens to my little Carly with chocolate. I mean, she’s not allergic, but it does a number on her tummy. Last Halloween she had such a bellyache… as you can imagine, it was awful.”

Rule of Thumb: Avoid this time suck at all costs, as even a nod in her direction opens a door for her to tell you more about herself and her family… AND DON’T GET HER STARTED ON HER DELIVERY STORY!

Some days I may or may not fall into one of these categories, though I like to believe those days are few and far between. Which mom makes you want to send smoke signals? And who did I miss (feel free to make up your own)?

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Can Jon Hamm’s ‘Package’ Save the World?

This one’s for the ladies and also gay men with excellent taste: Thoughts from the Suburban Jungle about Jon Hamm’s Penis.

Yes, after all the shares and comments on FB yesterday … I realized this is the question on everyone’s lips: Can Jon Hamm’s penis save the world? (Which in some way means Jon Hamm’s penis is on everyone’s lips and that’s kinda gross, Jon Hamm!) So, I made this for you guys, also, I was really bored and happened to be wearing full make at the time…

(On a side note it was reported recently that during season six of Mad Men according to the New York Daily News, AMC had to ask Hamm to wear underwear because “This season takes place in the 1960s, where the pants are very tight and leave little to the imagination.” The source also said”Jon’s impressive anatomy is so distracting that they politely insisted on underwear.” The AMC insider also said they had to Photoshop in seasons one and two to cover up Hamm’s distracting bulge.)

Well, I guess I was on to something when I made this video.

ENJOY – XO JENNY

I couldn’t find his penis anywhere in this picture, which was not for a lack of trying.

15 Tips to Help Moms Survive Life in Suburbia

Nearly a decade ago, I moved to the suburbs from NYC (it’s the sole reason I started my blog). In that time I’ve learned some pretty important things to ensure my survival, nay, my sanity.

If my ‘burb sent out a handbook it would look something like this. Feel free to use it as a mini-survival guide. Good luck and in the words of that guy on Hill Street Blues, ‘Hey, let’s be careful out there.’

All children must be signed up for multiple sports and extracurricular activities, to ensure that no family can plan anything on a Saturday until their kids are too old to want to spend Saturday’s with their family.
Do NOT be alarmed if you try to enter the wrong minivan or SUV, this is common. Try to lessen the confusion by putting fun stickers on your back windshield representing each of your children performing their favorite activity.
You can paint your house one of 477 shades of tan. Other colors will be categorically denied, so don’t even try it!
If your child has strep or hand foot and mouth, be aware that the entire town will know about it before you get his/her prescription filled. PS this same urgency in passing news applies to affairs as well!
As a suburban mom you are expected to start some kind of craft business immediately. Your choices are: hair accessories, jewelry, embellished clothing, or things you can print on card stock — anything else must be cleared through the Chamber of Commerce.
If you already have a job, you are expected to purchase these crafted goods, in bulk, at the myriad of local holiday boutiques that celebrate everything from Ramadan to Flag Day. Like PTA meetings, being absent is frowned upon.
If you do not find a grocery store or Starbucks within one mile of your current position, you’re lost and have entered an inferior neighborhood! Please stay calm and return to your suburb immediately.
You are required to join a gym. There, you must take spin classes with disco lighting, pretzel yourself into a reformer, and learn the art-form that is Zumba.
You will be expected to pressure clean anything and everything from your sidewalk to your dog. Be prepared.
Make sure your dog is cute, as neighbors will constantly stop to pet it. Be warned, the same neighbors will turn you in to the association the first time Rufus barks after 9PM. (Don’t name your dog Rufus)
Make an immediate trip to lululemon/Athetica/GapBody/Target … and pick up workout/athletic/golf/tennis gear that’s trendier than simply wearing sweatpants. Wear these goods at least 50 -100% of the time; in the winter, simply wear your athletic gear with Uggs.
You will need to attend a mind-numbing amount of birthday lunches/dinners for ladies turning anywhere from 30-50. Get there early, as who you sit next to (or don’t sit next to) can make or break your day.
Cut back on sex ASAP, as you will find yourself in conversations where moms discuss their infrequent, and unsatisfying sex life regularly — at lunches, parties, dinners, play-dates.
And stop giving blow-jobs! People in the ‘burbs are only expected to give them on birthdays and anniversaries (it’s one of the perks).
Living in the ‘burbs is a little like reading Us Weekly: Everything is sensationalized. It’s fun to discuss “who wore it best,” but not as much fun as playing Fashion Police. You will find yourself looking for cellulite/wrinkles on young skinny moms. And gossip is treated as gospel.

I hope this helps you fit into the suburban life you’ve chosen. Maybe I’ll see you at the next boutique sale — I’ll be selling picture frames with random findings glued on to them!

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Why Steal Candy From Babies When You Can Steal iPhones | People are So Disturbed

When I heard a man was caught on video stealing an iPhone from a baby, I had to ask, “Really? what kind of immoral thief are you?” And “where can I see that video?”

Listen, I find babies super cute, not in a “OMG, I need another one of those,” or a “Can I please hold your baby — random stranger?” kinda way. In a “That little bundle is seriously precious when he’s quiet or cooing, and looks even cuter through the window of this Starbucks,” kinda way. I also believe that no one can resist a baby dressed in a costume or using an adult item that’s been miniaturized, like wearing those mini Air Jordan’s or carrying a tiny briefcase.

So, when I heard a man had taken an iPhone from the hands of a sweet innocent child, I had to ask the obvious questions:

Was the child in a cute costume of any sort … perhaps wearing a tiny tuxedo?
Was the child about to clear a board on Angry Birds that he had never passed or was he possibly watching an episode of Phineas and Ferb on the Disney XD app and now he’ll never know if Candice tells her mother of the boys’ hijinks in time to catch them?
Was this some Robin Hood-esque act of justice, in which the thief took that phone to give to another baby who was needier — maybe one who had a first generation iPhone or dare I say, a Blackberry?!

Not knowing the answers to these questions will haunt me … will haunt us all. Worse, is the thought you may not have thunk, “How will this affect me?” When other crooks see how easy it is to take an iPhone from a baby, will they start adopting this practice as well? If so, does that mean I won’t be able to hand my child my iPhone/iPad/KindleFire/Nook in the hopes of taking a few minutes to peacefully assess my options in jewel-tone skinny jeans?

Will I not be able to wait patiently in line for my latte while my little one gleefully attempts to breed a rainbow dragon or learn random words in Spanish? Because that would beyond suck. Not just because those coffee lines are long and my kids get bored if they’re not stimulated for more than 30 seconds, but also because it’s really cute when they say things in other languages.

I’d like to suggest that we not let the lawbreakers win, and simply fasten these items to our children like pacifiers.

“Oh, you want that iPhone? Well, you’ll have to take the baby with it, and let me tell you she doesn’t sleep through the night and um, good luck breast feeding!”

“Um, no thanks ma’am you keep her.”

See, problem solved.

You’re welcome.

Of course, feel free to let me know if you have any better ideas …

The eNup | Why People Should Sign One Before Giving Them Your Email

E-Nup – When giving out our email addresses we should require people to take an oath promising to refrain from forwarding anything that evokes guilt, fear of bodily harm, or doesn’t mesh with our personal humor requirements. THIS IS WHY…

Of all the things that annoy me about email, people who incessantly insist I need a larger penis, need Prozac or Cialis, and I should be getting said drugs from Canada, the worst offender is the email chain letter. What’s worse is how I handle receiving them — Yes, I erase them right away. Not just because they’re junk mail but because, as ridiculous as it sounds, there’s a part of me that feels that once I’ve read one of those things, the clock has started. How the universe is somehow connected to my AOL account, is a mystery, but a powerful one.

Some chain letters go so far as to mention G-d. The idea that The Almighty is busy checking my inbox and confirming that I have forwarded the mail to the specified amount of people, in the allotted amount of time, seems like a stretch. Yet, there is this irrational side of me that’s like, “What if?” “What if G-d wants me to pass on this sentimental poem about growing up in the 80’s?”

Yesterday, I got one of those emails. In the subject box it read, “Sorry, I Had To. “ I have to say, if your subject is an apology for sending an email in the first place, rethink pushing that FORWARD button. This particular one was a message to empower women, yet to reap the true empowerment you were required to forward it to 9 of your “Sista’s.”

The list of recipients was 50 scroll-downs long. Apparently, Sista’s, hopeful at the thought of being empowered by diligently following the rules set by the email creator (probably a snickering man) were passing this thing around the globe.

This irks me even more because, I spend my days trying to disseminate relatable, humorous stories that look at the lives of moms, women and gen x-ers and here’s some poorly written warning – that actually refers to women as Sista’s – and it’s more popular than my well thought out, hilariously funny, albeit poignant articles.

So I will apologize in advance for the rest of this post.

If you “Like/Share” this article on FB or Email this:

“OMG, Jenny from the Blog at The Suburban Jungle may be the most poignant humorist of our millennium, nay, Ever! You must read her observational humor and slice of life stories as I think they’ve cured my momnesia, plus my wrinkles are 63% less noticeable.”

to 75 of your closest friends within the next hour you will meet with great fortune. Your children will be smarter, your hair will be thicker, your boobs will be fuller, and you’re husband will have a 6 pack again (or for the first time)!

This may be a humor column, but it’s NO JOKE!

I had a paralegal look it over and she said it’s legit.

Just yesterday, a woman in Westchester sent this on to 75 of her friends and the minute she hit that button, she got a call from her Mother-In-Law saying they couldn’t make it over for dinner!!!

Need I say more?

Unfortunately, if you do not take this seriously, I must fear for your safety! A mother in Idaho who ignored this request, was shopping at a Gap later that day, and inadvertently smashed into the window trying to exit the store. She was not physically harmed, but she was extremely embarrassed.

I guarantee misfortune if you do not send this, because I will personally come out to your home or place of work and open fire. I have a moderately powerful Nerf gun that shoots like ten rounds, and those suctions cups can have a very strong stick factor. I could get one right between your eyes and then it would take a lot of spit and pulling to get it off. I don’t know for certain, but it could leave an unsightly mark! All I’m saying is think about it… $10 MILLION or my saliva all over your face?

Okay, tick tock……………………………………………………………………….

Hey Sistas – If you like my writing — share, share, share and share! Ooh, and subscribe to the blog! Ooh, and did I mention I got a show? Oh, and totally comment!

J From the B

I Got My Own Show!

First promo is out (if you’re a YouTube subscriber, please like it)!!!

It seems like forever that I’ve been waiting for someone to give me my own show. Yes, it’s true… rounding the corner on 40 certainly wasn’t helping. I was making a running list of all the things I WILL NOT DO. You know, like a depressing version of a bucket list? Actually, that’s redundant, but you get the picture.

My looming midlife-ishness was making me realize all the things I haven’t been given that I feel I truly deserved, like: 10million from the Florida Lottery, a Ford Fusion from American Idol, or a Medical degree from Harvard. Granted, I’ve never played the lotto, been a contestant on American Idol, or attended Harvard, but still I feel slighted.

Which is how I’ve felt about the whole getting your own show thing. I mean let’s face it, everyone has a show now a days, EV-ERY-ONE. Really, it doesn’t take much. You don’t even need a full set of teeth (see Gator Boys and Honey Boo Boo) Sure

Honey’s 7 so those will grow back in, but I’d venture to say that she’ll be missing a few in adulthood as well. (Call it a premonition.)

I just want to state for the record that I do have all my teeth, which is usually a plus in the job market search, but now I am considering knocking one out or at least covering it in gold. What? Does Flava Flav not have a show?

I guess the truth is, with everyone having a show, I kinda just imagined that there was a line somewhere, like a make-shift DMV. You wait in it, all annoyed until someone with really long nails and two tone hair looks at you and tells you your gig. “Hmmm, annoying accent, high hair, tattooed, currently intoxicated… JERSEY SHORE, ANY MOB SHOW, CO-HOST ON THE TALK.” “Highly educated, dry, unattractive, interesting and cerebral… sorry, your options are limited NEW YORK TIMES TV Host (only to be watched during air travel), guest on REAL TIME WITH BILL MAHER.” “Looks good in a bikini – doesn’t prune in hot

tubs or pools – questionable morals… BACHELORETTE, BIG BROTHER.” “Funny, un-pc, likes to talk while standing, attractive enough… LATE NIGHT TV.”

You know, something like that.

So for years, I’ve sought out this “line,” and like unicorns and tooth-fairies – it exists but, only to those who believe… which is why I found it. Or rather, it found me. Yep, my show, THE JENNY ISENMAN SHOW, will be airing on Cafe Mom starting October 16th!

Here’s the first promo!!!

I like to believe my DMV bio went like this: Funny – anxiety stricken – obsessed with cellulite/wrinkles/sagging – annoyed with all the hype about beauty products, juice fasts, scheduled sex – may or may not have showered today – needs answers to cut through all the bullshit and look and feel at least a decade or two younger so that she doesn’t end up in a padded room – attractive enough…. TALK SHOW FOR MOMS, REAL HOUSEWIFE OF SOMEWHERE, GUEST ON DR. PHIL, HOARDERS.

We just finished filming the season last week and it was total insanity… (By the way, it’s a talk show for moms, in case you weren’t sure.) I was sick as a dog! My voice went from Demi Moore sexy, in early episodes to Harvey Fierstein drag queen, towards the end, I kid you not. I had an amazing set, amazing guests, amazing producers, a 15 person crew: filming, trying to keep me healthy, fed, and hydrated… checking hair and makeup. Sounds a bit Christian Grey-esque right? I mean, these are things a girl can get used to!!!

Most importantly, I got a CHEAT SHEET for all the mommas to live by – all while keeping a cynical eye and a sense of humor. Yes, I regaled some embarrassing 80’s moments, as I love to do. And I think with the power of editing, it will end up a Chelsea Handler, meets, Erma Bombeck, meets, Richard Lewis, meets Oprah. Am I aiming too high? Those editors better be freakin’ good, if not, I’m hoping at the very least it’ll be a Wendy Williams, meets the Tiger Mom, meets Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, meets Dog, the Bounty Hunter.

I promise to give behind the scenes play by play! If you like my writing, share this with friends so they can follow the blog and keep up with the show because I guarantee it’ll be as exiting as watching the guys who fish with their hands… and that’s saying a lot, I know.

Oh and thanks, as always for your support! This is a big deal for someone who’s small potatoes.

XOXO,

Jenny From the Blog

I May Have Been a Preteen Stalker

Didn’t we all have adolescent obsessions that bordered on stalking or was that just me? This story will make your embarrassing moments seem way less embarrassing! It’s that bad, I’ve never spoken of it.

As you may have noticed from some of my posts, I have a flair for the dramatic. I recall an experience of such exaggerated intensity with my first crush. For the sake of the blog and the fact that some of my readers will know him, I’ll call him Eric, Eric Axel. This pseudonym is not exactly cryptic, it‘s about 2 letters off from his actual name. Look, I pursued him like an obsessed stalker, I’m sure it’s no surprise to him.

This was old school stalking I’m referring to. Anyone and everyone stalks now a days — moderen technology: cell phones, FB, twitter, my space, youtube, linkedin — it’s not even impressive. No, I’m talking about the kind of stalking that took time and effort and premeditation, something to tell your grandchildren about.

So, I’m gonna rip off the Band-Aid, that is this repressed memory, and let the healing begin. I was in the 7^th grade … Continue reading →