Sunday, November 30, 2008

27 Dresses

There is something to be said about being “just one of the boys.” You’re the girl that isn’t afraid to get dirty, even if you just got a manicure. Your favorite accessories are cowboy boots and baseball hats-- not because they are trendy, but just because they feel good when you put them on. And there is nothing better tasting than an order of boneless Buffalo wings and an ice cold beer… no matter what time of day it is.

While I am sure every man reading this is going, THAT is my dream woman… I will have you know you are slightly misinformed. Somewhere between my love for sports and my no bullshit knack for calling things like they are, I am normally relegated to a realm no woman ever wants to be shelved in.

You’d think my ability to think like a boy, act like a boy, and be one of the boys would put me in a class above the rest. It would make me the no drama, low maintenance… none of this why didn’t you call me last night so we could listen to each other breathe nonsense.. in short, the perfect girlfriend. I, like you… live and die by the three-day rule unless otherwise specified in the terms of our relationship. And I, unlike most of the other girls you have tried to date have my own thing going on, my own life aside from yours… and you should feel lucky I let you park in it every once in a while. But no.

That’s right.. You’ve unlocked this door with the key of awkwardness. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of ‘asexual’ness, a dimension of embarrassment, a dimension of doormats. You're moving into a land of both closeness and distance, of things and ideas; you've just crossed over into… the Friend Zone.

With the holidays upon us, I found myself heading south back to Tampa to spend time with my friends and family, and avoid the harsh winter weather that had been hanging out since it snowed two days before Halloween. Sick joke, right??.. So aside from lazy days on a boat with friends and nights out with the girls, I also spent some time catching up with an old friend of mine. Did I also mention, we used to date?

Yeah, I know another blog of mine started out very much like this one, but I assure you this one has a very different twist. You see my business with the previously mentioned ex (Mark??) had been resolved for many years now. This other one in question?… Well, bruises on my heart and ego were still pretty fresh. Still, I agreed to meet him for dinner since he insisted he needed someone to talk to. The first half of dinner was just the typical nonsense.. “How is NYC??” “Do you like it??” “What have you been up to???” But, as the sake started rollin, things quickly shifted to the heart of the problem. He told me how unhappy he was in Tampa, being from the Lonestar state, and how he just felt like he was missing something. Given my current situation, I totally understood what he was going through and more. Then he drops the bomb. My ex was sprung on a new girl and he wanted my help.

WHAT?.. I nearly choked on my edemamme. You can not be @#$%ing serious. We don’t speak for months and now you want my help to “get the girl.” Surely, this kid must be high?... Well, he wasn’t. And I shouldn’t call him Shirley.

Over the next few hours, I sat and listened. Through the sake bombs and the awkwardness he poured his heart out over this new girl in his life, and all the hurdles it would take to get her: ruining her friendship with her best friend who he used to hook up with, and possibly ruining a friendship of his own with a buddy that used to date the girl in question. It was a page six scandal in the making, or at least a really awesome Jerry Springer episode. I mean, what was so magical about this one girl that was worth all the drama??.. He continued to lament on and on about how this girl was chill, just “relatable.” The no drama type of girl that “got” him, and loved sports, and didn’t need the nightlife scene.

Wait a frickin' second there, cowboy. Hold your damn horses. He was describing ME.

I was all those things and more back when we used to talk, only he never chased me like this. Never went crazy over me like this. So what was so different about THIS girl?.. As our dinner began to more closely resemble a therapy session with a psychologist, I couldn’t help but feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest. It’s not every day that someone you still have unresolved feelings for tells you they think they found the real thing.. and want to settle down with someone else.
But there it was. The truth. As cold and nasty as the sushi that sat in front of us.

I was the Julia Roberts of my own life. The girl, sitting in front of a boy.. asking him to quit being a moron and see what’s in front of him. My life was one sick romantic comedy. The kind where it’s supposed to be a happy ending, but the girl doesn’t get the guy and she ends up having fun at the reception with her gay friend. The kind where she is supposed to feel happy her best friend ran off with Cameron Diaz, and found true happiness. She was hot back then, anyway.

It was a long and awkward car ride back to his place, as he continued his story, and I did my best to listen objectively. I helped him weigh out the pros and cons of the situation, as it wasn’t exactly the easiest or most rational decision he had made to pursue this girl. But he seemed to think she was worth it.

As I dropped him off at his place, I turned to him and asked him…

“Do you think she can make you happy??.. Do you think she is what you are missing??”

The smile on his face said it all.

“Well then,” I said, “Get r done.”

As I turned to leave, he ran back and knocked on my window, motioning for me to roll it down.

“You know Jenn,” he said, “that’s what I always loved about you. You were like the girls from back home.. simple, laid back, unselfish, blue jeans and baseball hat kinda girl. You’re good people and amazing. Thank you.”

A quick kiss on the forehead.. and he was gone.

Sigh. So goes the curse of the wing girl. I am but the Robin to his Batman. The Boo Boo to his Yogi. The Barney to his Fred. And that’s where the story ends.

My car ride home was significantly less awkward, and tad more defeated, but seeing him finally have some resolve in his life made all my pain seem worth it. Sometimes you really don’t know why certain people come into our lives, or why we play such limited roles in theirs. But at least he felt close enough to me to trust me with his heart, even if he intended to give it to someone else. I may not have gotten the guy, but I gained a friend. So what if I am always the bridesmaid, I’ll catch the bouquet in life sooner or later… right?..

And until then, I can still have fun trying on all the dresses.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Quarter Century Crisis

There are many milestones we reach in our lives that open for us the next chapter in our existence. There are some that open with a fanfare and have you jumping for joy, while others have us fearing for our lives, and running to our plastic surgeons office.

First there was the obsession with the whole “getting to drive” thing. There was nothing like having your first taste of freedom, the kind where you roll your windows down, blare something other than your dad’s brand of classic rock, and say… “Screw you guys; I can drive myself to the mall.” No longer were you those kids loitering outside the movie theater, because now, you could come and go as you please. Take that officer.

Then, there was the whole “I’m a legal adult” thing. Congrats, now you can vote, be those teenagers giggling in the aisles of the porn store, buy your own cigarettes, and oh yeah, get arrested and be put in jail … and your parents can’t come bail your ass out.

Finally, there was the “Yes sir, I’d like another… and sure you can see my ID” thing. You’d flash that baby everywhere you went, because now.. the picture was actually yours, and you no longer needed to convince your older brother’s friends the merits of buying you beer. And you suddenly began to wake up with many more headaches than you used to.

Sigh. Is it just me, or have these supposed landmark moments of our lives have gotten progressively a whole lot less significant as we have gotten older?.. Or seriously, is it REALLLLLLY just me?... Have I gotten to the age where I stop counting birthdays???..

As I looked into the mirror at my one year older self, I realized I was staring gravity in the face. What were these lines underneath my eyes? Why did my ass suddenly seem to belong in a sir mix a lot video? And what the @#$! are THOSE??????????..

There they were, like a tombstone marking the end of my youth, two grey hairs. There is absolutely no frickin' way this was happening to me. Surely, I had to just be going blond. I mean, I always thought I had blond moments, and at least now I would have an excuse. But alas. upon further examination, it was concluded they were in fact… GREY hairs.

Calm down Jenn. Seriously, there is no reason to panic. After all, you have been under an enormous amount of stress as of late. So why don’t you just grab those tweezers, rip them out and no one will ever have to know.

WAIT!... Doesn’t everyone say that if you rip out one, two grow in its place???.. Pshhhh…

Silly old wives tale. And damn it. I am NOT old.

I guess I could just leave them there. But then, what would all the guys say?.. I like older women??.. You have the same color hair as my grandmother??.. Yeah, total game killer. These babies HAD to go.

One box of chocolate brown hair color, and a super long shower later, I emerged a newer, bolder, and certainly younger looking version of myself.

“Notice anything?” I asked my parents as I did a quick spin for approval.

“You got a new outfit??” my mom asked.

“Nooooooo, what about you dad???”

My father just stared at me blankly, as he like most men wouldn’t notice if I dressed in a clown costume, so long as I didn’t come home with any weird tattoos or crazy piercings. Sigh. MEN.

Maybe I had just over reacted. Maybe I wasn’t really getting older. Maybe, just maybe I had forgotten how to have fun and just be a kid again.

Your twenties are supposed to be the best years of your life, right?.. Or at least that is what everyone tells you anyway. So why had the first half of my twenties slipped away from me seemingly in one big blur??

Why was everyone so obsessed with age anyway?.. It’s just a number. And you’re only as old as you feel. And on most days, I felt just fine. In fact, I feel better than fine. I feel twenty something and fabulous.

Suddenly the lines around my eyes had diminished into nothing. Sir Mix A Lot videos seemed a helluva lot more en vogue. And Jenn Sterger?.. Was back to her old rockstar self.

Oh… and the grey hairs, you ask?.. those bitches still gotta go.. Sorry George Clooney and Brett Favre, there are certain fashion trends no girl should ever touch.


Happy birthday, Jenn!!! Nothing better than a Saturday birthday, so enjoy the birthday weekend...Best of luck to the 'Noles and the Jets!!

PS: Hope you enjoyed the pics I added.. :)

Friday, November 28, 2008


Thanks to the stalkerific technology that are status updates and away message, anyone anywhere can know exactly what you're feeling and doing at any given time. I've never been one to find the need to lie about or hide my personal life. And why should I? My real friends want to know what's going on in my life, and if anyone else reads it, well.. So what? They want to judge me based on some status remarks and blog updates? Hell, if people are going to talk, I should at least make sure they have all the facts straight, or in some cases give them something to talk about. I figure the better majority of them are experiencing a lot of the same things I am anyway. People forget it wasn't too long ago that I was just your average college student, going to classes and tending bars before my life took a turn for the unexpected. This journey has had its ups, its downs, and certainly its price. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

When people write me and ask if this profile is really mine, or if I check it personally, nine times out of ten, I try to respond back, even if it’s a simple yes or no, because I'm happy to know they cared enough just to write. In some instances I have made pen pals, even great friends from perfect strangers, because I was there to listen when they needed someone and vice versa. Why on earth would I bother conversing with someone I don't even know?? I guess because I'm polite, nice, and I would expect the same in return.

One of the many criticisms I have been given since relocating to the big city is that I'm too nice. Too nice? I had never heard such a thing. Since when had treating other people the way I wanted to be treated ever been considered a flaw? Had "please" and "thank you" and "excuse me" joined dinosaurs on the list of all things extinct?? I began to think.. Maybe I just wasn't cut out for this place or even this career path in general. I had to escape, if for nothing else.. My own personal happiness.. And sanity.

When most people think of "clear your head" vacation destinations they think of warm sandy, beaches. Or if you're in the Hollywood line of work... this wonderful place called rehab, where "happy drugs" are all inclusive, and the padded rooms have a view. Not wanting to end up spending my time at Lindsay Lohan's time share, I opted for skipping town to a quiet place in the Midwest, my own personal sanctuary.... Indianapolis.

I have never had a bad experience in Indy, partly because it still exudes that southern hospitality feel, and partly because a few of my favorite people in the world live there. Whenever I have felt lost or lonely, I could always count on a trip to Indy to clear my head and set me straight.

For months now, I haven't really been myself. Sure, I've done my job, taken my meetings, and smiled at most everyone I met, but I simply wasn't happy. I love my apartment, but it’s been the only place I have really seen other than the inside of an office building or the sideline of the meadowlands. In short, I was pretty miserable. I feel sorry for the people that have only met me in the last few months, because they really haven't had the chance to meet the real "Jenn." Instead, they met this cyborg femme-bot Jenn Sterger. Just a machine going through the motions of every day life. I was Sterg on auto pilot. And for anyone that knows me.. You know I'm anything but that. I pride myself on my outgoing fearless fun loving nature. And I missed the old me .. The girl with the pajamas on, the girl in the cowboy hat, the girl who threw caution to the wind... More than anyone.

My usual reasons for going to Indy would have been sufficient enough to put a smile on my face, or at least deliver a bitchslap back to my old self. This trip however was a little bit different. Aside from the usual faces (Will and Barb—who have taken me in like a stray dog), there were new characters added to my Indy experience: an old friend from college, and … a pen pal.

OK, before you start with the “Know how I know you’re a gay… because you have a pen pal,” I say… “shut the @#$! Up.” Sometimes it’s nice to have someone to converse with, from a completely different world than yours. They don’t have to know all the gritty details of your day to day life, though most would sit around if you wanted to tell them. My particular pen pal does just that. He listens.. or reads, I guess. There’s absolutely nothing in it for him, but someone to shoot the @#$% and trade stories with. And he’s okay with that. Even from a thousand miles away, this person has the ability to change my day for the better, especially considering how lonely I have found living in NYC to be. They say there are people you meet along your journey that significantly change your life for the better. They come into your life not necessarily at the best of times, but at a time where a few kind words can make all the difference and a smile can tell you.. That everything is going to be okay.

This past weekend I got the chance to sit down and meet my pen pal face to face, just to thank him for all the times he has pulled my head out of my butt when I was in a bad mood, or all the times he made me laugh. I thanked him for being honest with a perfect stranger, and genuinely caring when sometimes I felt like no one else did. Not that our conversations were super deep, but they were a welcome distraction from my everyday life, something we could all use a little more of every now and then. At the end of the weekend, we both went our separate ways but we’d always have Indy.

The other welcome face this past weekend was an old friend from my college days. He and I had bartended together back in the day, but he had always been too cool for school to hang out with me during our Tally days. Back in college, he had been the bad boy, and the trouble maker, but now.. he was different. He had moved to Indy to be with his college girlfriend, but his relationship had dissolved, leaving him in the middle of a city he didn’t really know well, and a city that really didn’t know him. (Sound familiar??) At first things had been tough, but somehow he had persevered. As I sat across the table from him and listened to his story, I realized the person sitting across the table was a changed man. Could I really start over, in a city I didn’t know, and make it so I could call my own??.. It gave me hope to see someone in such a similar situation thriving under some not so ideal conditions. Maybe there was hope for me yet.

Indianapolis was just the medicine my soul needed. It felt great to be around people I love, but more so… it just felt great to be wanted and appreciated. We all deserve to be surrounded by people that have our best interest in mind, the kind of people that will be there when things aren’t so perfect.

I have spent the past few months of my life, as a girl, interrupted. I’ve been so scared of moving forward, that it had made me almost scared to live. But somehow this weekend had changed me. It was about time someone or something knocked some sense into me. It was about time.. I got my groove back.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Hey guys!

I just wanted to let y'all know that I recently finished filming my first role in a major motion picture!

It's a horror movie called 'The Tenant' that should be released sometime later this year or in 2009.

It was a pleasure working with cast and crew, and the director Ric LaMonte was absolutely fantastic. Everyone made being on the set a lot of fun. It was really a great experience for my first movie. I'm really excited about it and wanted to get the word out. I'll be sure to update the blog with the theater release date as soon as I hear.

I've included some links below to their recently released official website, the teaser, and the movie's place on the Internet Movie Database. Also here is a direct link to some behind the scenes photos of me on set...

Hope you guys check it out!! And be's scary good...:)

The Tenant Official Website

The Tenant Teaser Trailer

The Tenant on IMDB

Jenn's page on IMDB


Here are some of the other cast members of Jenn's film...a pretty nice listing!

Starring J La Rose (Saw III, Saw IV), Michael Berryman, (The Hills Have Eyes, X Files, Devil’s Rejects), Bill Cobbs (Night at the Museum, The Ultimate Gift), Randy Molnar (Larry The Cable Guy Health Inspector, Contract Killers, This Man’s Life), Aerica D’Amaro (Steam, Misconceptions, Road Trip), John Kyle (Black Water, The Woods Have Eyes), Georgia Chris (100 Tears, Black Water) Sylvia Boykin (Recount), Justin Smith (As The World Turns), Ashley Totin (All My Children), and Miss Germany Miss Universe 2006 Natalie Ackermann.


I grabbed this from the Production Notes section of the website, be sure to keep checking back for more info:

Sat. July 5th 2008

Jenn Sterger was on set today, you may know her from her days as an FSU Cowgirl, or from her spreads in Playboy and Maxim. Jenn is playing a mental patient. In the film, Dr. Walter Newman owns & operates an asylum which is being torn apart due to his negligence whilst he works on his genetic experiments. Jenn portrays a mental patient that is deprived of medical attention who ends up lashing out at a fellow inmate. She is paving her way from magazine spreads & interviews into the world of acting. So all you Jenn Sterger fans….check it out. She’s got a killer fight scene in the movie.

Monday, August 11, 2008


Admin Update

Hey fans...I just wanted to share some major Jenn Sterger news released today! Not only did the New York Jets sign Brett Favre last week, but they also announced the signing of Jenn Sterger for the 2008 season as their in-stadium home-game host.

In Jenn's new position, she will interview celebrities and will host both pregame "Keys to the Game" segments and the club's pregame components up until the player introductions. She'll also play a role during TV timeouts and during halftime.

Sounds like Jets home games are gonna be a lot more fun to go to this season!

Click here to see more photos and find out a lot more about Jenn's new gig

This is also just the start of some major new announcements regarding Jenn in the weeks ahead...keep checking back for even bigger news very soon...

Monday, August 04, 2008

One Man’s Trash…

If you have ever moved from one house to another, then you know what its like to put your life in a box. And if you lived in any one place for more than a year’s time, you know what its like to accumulate a whole lot of junk.

My life has roughly about 3 years of junk. From my Oregon Duck Nike memorabilia to my Kelvin “Sampson-ite” necktie t-shirt… you name it.. I’m sure it is stashed in my closet somewhere. So when my Big Apple came callin,’ my friends, family, and I had to do our best to sort through the madness. And madness was just the tip of the iceberg.

Not one to miss out on a good time or laugh, I did what any woman with a closet full of aged clothing and mountain of shoes would do. I put on the world’s most outdated runway fashion show. Dresses that showed more leg than a bucket of chicken. Shirts that might have fit me two cup sizes ago. And shoes that even the Spice Girls would have been ashamed to wear. How in the hell had I managed to keep all this crap???... Better yet, what sane part of me actually thought that clear platform heels were EVER a good idea except for at bikini contests???..

It’s easy to get sentimental and hold on to things you really don’t need anymore. You hold out hope for as long as humanly possible that the seasons will change and things will come back in style, but really.. they hardly ever do. And if they do, it’s always varied just enough to make your crap seem “vintage.” People are no different. You want to hold out hope for some of them, think they are going to change, so you relentlessly cling to something that just isn’t there anymore… when in reality you should just throw it out. Or even worse… you could be the garbage.

Call me sentimental. Call me a pack rat. My parents just call me a mess. But for some reason I have always had a hard time letting go. Maybe that is why I have jeans that look like they have been attacked by hordes of angry locusts, or maybe just some scissor-happy angst-ridden teens. Maybe that is why I have shoes that are a half size too small, but refuse to let them go for the fact that they are reallllllly killer shoes. And maybe that’s why I have stuck it out in relationships that were all but six feet under. I wanted so desperately to hang on to the happy times, the good times, the times when things were brand new, the times when things looked great, and I was the envy of all my friends. And the times… that it was easy to forget all the nights he made me cry and feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. Just once, I wanted to hand him my size-too-small shoes, and say walk a mile in these… and see what you’ve done. But, nevertheless, I hung on and endured the blisters. Whether I was a glutton for punishment, a slave to fashion, or a sucker for love, I simply would not part with these shoes. And there sat the shoes… in the bottom of a moving box.

Sometimes when people fall so head over heels in love, they become blind to the way others treat them. Since when did it become OK to treat your coworkers, your friends, and even random strangers with more respect than the person you supposedly love??... Why does more face time equal not having to say things like “Please” or “Thank you?” Why does a fleeting guest’s opinion matter more than your other half? Most importantly, what makes their half less important than yours?.. When people cut into pies they should cut them evenly to share. And a partnership is no different. If you’re going to share your life with someone… then, well.. You SHARE your life. The whole thing. Not just the pieces you don’t want for yourself. Not just “the crust” and the “leftovers.” It’s called selflessness, and without a little bit of it, any relationship is doomed for failure.

Sometimes people really don’t realize what they have until it’s gone. One day you will wake up and realize you love them.. only they will be waking up next to the person that already knew. But the thought of seeing that person with someone else is no reason to stay in something that is clearly not working. You simply have to learn when to hold tight and when to let go. You can’t force someone’s puzzle pieces of life fit into your own. They never will, especially if the pieces you’re contributing are still in disarray.

Me? I want someone that wants to have fun with me, laugh with me, and be easy breezy going with me. I want someone that doesn’t make me always feel like it’s my fault, and accepts blame where blame is due. I’m not saying I am always right, and that I am perfect. Because Lord only knows I am far from that. But I am a genuine person. I’m a good person. And I believe in treating others they way I want to be treated. I don’t want to spend my years on this earth, drowning in a box of crappy, unhappily ever after memories, and dreams of “what could have been.” Better yet, I don’t want to end up on the style networks episode of What Not to Wear, just because I couldn’t part with some crappy outdated footwear.

When you find the right person, there is not feeling of obligation to be around them. You won’t feel trapped. You will have a choice. But being in love, you’ll feel like you could never want to them to stay away. They can’t stand to NOT be around you as much as you can’t bear to be without them. It’s not tying one another down, it’s giving them the choice to spend time with you or not. And the answer never being “no.”

If you can honestly say there is someone you would RATHER spend time with than that person... well, then maybe that means you really aren't meant for one another. Besides, shouldn’t the person you’re with BE your best friend???

In the days when everyone is trying to find new ways to go green.. I say why not find ways to be less mean. No one deserves to be treated like a lesser person. No one deserves to feel their opinion is any less important. And no one should ever feel disposable. And if you can’t appreciate the things you have, then some one else certainly will.

As I combed through the last of the boxes, I couldn’t help but find certain items a tad sentimental. My letter jacket from my days in the marching band. My senior year prom dresses. The sweater I wore on my very first date. Stuff that seemed relatively invaluable to me. Then I realized I was hanging on to memorabilia that I really had no use for anymore. My high school prom was downright misery. There have been plenty of dates since the first one. And the letter jacket. Well, I kinda like that one... so, I guess that can stay. Throwing out the garbage of the past ten years of life can be both a little sad, and a little scary, until you realize you are really just making space for all new memories and people in your future.

But what about these shoes?..These once so perfect, once so en vogue shoes?.. Did these really belong in my life, let alone in my closet???.. The more I looked at them, I realized I had to try them on.. just one last time. Fiddling with the clasps, and all the stupid little straps, I remembered why I never wore these things. These amazing shoes, these one of a kind shoes.. were really just.. “ISH-“ shoes. And I had had enough. There would be many Manolo Blahnik’s, other Jimmy Choo’s, and plenty of Christian Louboutin’s, but there was only one me. And I was tired of sacrificing my comfort, and happiness just to please everyone else. I had no more than cast them to the side, when my friend’s ten year old daughter Tori, picked them up and put them on… as if they were a brand new pair. Then again, to her… that’s exactly what they were. A little too big, a little clunky, but they did make her smile. Maybe it is all right to let go of things we no longer see as a part of our lives, and allow others to cast us from theirs. It may hurt at first, but we’ve got to remember that out there.. there is a perfect match for each of us… our SOLE mate if you will. You just have to keep looking. And as for the things that cease to make us smile… Well, you know what they say. One man’s garbage is another man’s girlfriend.

Now, what am I gonna do with all these boxes???....

Sunday, August 03, 2008

The Jenn Sterger Project

Here is a sneak preview of one of the new projects Jenn has been working on...Jenn Sterger talks celeb news, sports, and everything else guys want to know! Get ready for some regular fun from the JSP...keep checking back for updated episodes soon...

Thursday, July 17, 2008

New photo shoot preview video from June!

Hey guys... here's the latest video from one of my photo shoots. This video was taken June 25th in Tampa with George Salmon Photography and should give you more of an idea about what to expect from me soon. It's a small sample of the overall shoot. The photos will be up on my MySpace page in the near future.

Be sure to stick around, because you just might be hearing a lot more from me in the coming weeks! :)

Friday, July 04, 2008

July 4th Spectacular Video


Jenn joins Nick Stevens and a friend as they take a look at unique American sports such as cow chip throwing, beer pong, and of course hot dog eating contests.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Jenn Interview on Tampa's ESPN Radio 1470

Admin Update:

Jenn sat down with with the Killer B's on ESPN radio (1470 AM in Tampa) on June 24th. The show was video webcast as well, but unfortunately they didn't archive the video, just the audio. So here is her entire segment, split into 2 MP3 files for easy listening.


Part I
Part II

Saturday, June 21, 2008


Walking around in New York City, it would be easy for one to forget they were on an island. But not this particular trip. Despite the fact there are over 5 million people living, working, and visiting the island of Manhattan on any given day, I still managed to feel as if I was all alone. Maybe that is because for the first time in a long while, this trip was all business… no pleasure. None of the usual suspects were in town, my relationship was non-existent, and everyone else had nine to fives. I’ve never been one to depend on the company of others to have myself a good time, but it’s always fun to explore a new city with a special someone.

Seeing the city from the eyes of a singleton was definitely an enlightening experience. Sure, I took my meetings and met all my professional obligations, but no amount of success seemed to make this sense of emptiness go away. I kept thinking that when my work schedule kicked into full throttle that things would not hurt as much, and there would be this reawakening of my old self. But the reality of the matter was colder than the concrete the city was built on. There in the multicultural Mecca that is Manhattan, I felt lost. I felt forgotten.

There’s nothing like having your world turned upside down in a city you don’t really know. One day you’re in absolute bliss, and the next… well, it’s you, your cat, and your suitcases sitting on the steps wondering where it all went wrong. Talking to friends from a thousand miles away serves as much purpose as talking to Wilson volleyball. You certainly can’t go running to mommy and daddy’s house, because they are a two hour plane ride away. And all shoe shopping and retail therapy in the world not only leaves you with an empty soul, it leaves you with an empty wallet. At the end of the day… you really are the little old lady that lived in a shoe.

Finding a good apartment in NYC is about as easy as finding the perfect boyfriend. All the good ones are taken, and the rest have some serious underlying issues. Sure, one may have a beautiful view overlooking the park… but it’s also a six story walk up. The other may have only had one owner-- a cute little 87 year old lady, but did they also mention the little old lady happened to own about 30 not so little cats?? Finally, the last one may be walking distance to your work or a mere subway stop or two from the city… but you’ve owned closets with more space than this baby. And despite what they say… Size does matter.

Men are seemingly no different. Some have serious vanity issues that make life more of a hassle than it’s really worth. They may be pretty from the outside looking in, but they require a ridiculous amount of work and aside from “the view” there isn’t much pay off. Then there are the previously owned guys. And I do mean “owned.” These are usually the guys that got crapped on by their ex gf’s so much, so that they themselves become the one doing the crapping in their next relationship. It’s a natural defense mechanism. And while their new girlfriends may not necessarily deserve it, they usually end up paying for the damage the last tenant left behind, not to mention cleaning up the stains that just won’t go away. And then there’s the kind that just never really tries to measure up to the standards. Maybe they’re tired of the way girls didn’t appreciate them in the past, or maybe they are just tired of trying. Regardless, these never really reach their true potential, and while they may be convenient… the new girl never gets back the investment she puts into it.

Sometimes we rely so much on others to define who we are, that we forget who we are on our own. Maybe we spend so much time trying to please everyone else that we forget the things we like, that we enjoy. Simple things like wearing our sweatpants to the diner on Sunday mornings, after a late night out drinking with friends. Or pulling our hair back in a pony tail, not because we want to look like school girls, but because sometimes having long stripper hair is soooo overrated. Or maybe spending a Saturday afternoon doing nothing but hanging out in the park watching the little leaguers play “Kill the Man with the Ball.” I like eating buffalo chicken wraps at 11 am, if they served beer that early… I’d probably have one of those too. I like watching CSI marathons, even when I already know who-dun-it. And as much as I love the company of a significant other, sometimes I enjoy an afternoon to myself, or a night out with friends.

This trip to NYC reminded me about my wants, my needs, my hopes, and my dreams. It was about finding myself again, and not the doormat I had allowed myself to become to so many people. It made me sad to see the pet cemetery version of myself I had become, just to make others happy. Not to say that there hadn’t been fun times, and great memories… but maybe that was all they would ever be. And I would just have to accept that, and continue on with my own life. And that life starts with a new apartment.

I want a place with a view, a place filled with color, and character. I want a place that is drenched with light, so that even as the New York weather turns from hot and sultry, to downright frigid, I can still see the sun when I greet the day. But most importantly, I want a place to call my own, because when you have worked for it all by yourself... it makes coming home after a long day that much sweeter.

Finding a new life is more than picking out rugs, finding new doctors, and befriending a new hairstylist. It’s about writing the next chapter in your life. Sure the last one may not have ended the way I imagined, but life in itself is unpredictable. People will come, people will go.. leaving a lot of guesswork in uncovering people’s true motives to be a part of our lives. In a city of people trying to all get ahead and make a name for themselves, all you can do is stay true to yourself, and not become one of the masses that doesn’t open doors for others, or help someone struggling to pick up their belongings they dropped in the street..or doesn’t take a chance on someone just “because” they like the familiarity of something that didn’t work the first ten times around.

So maybe I was all alone on a cement island, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have good people back home that care about me and want me to succeed. My family will always be there for me, and leave a light on in case I catch the late flight home. My friends will always be there to throw me a life preserver when life’s waters get too rough, and I need rescuing. And maybe one day, someone special will send me a message in a bottle.. just to tell me that everything will be ok and I haven’t been forgotten. After all, in a city as big as Manhattan, I think we’re all just trying not to be lonely.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

The Ex Factor

As I drove across the Courtney Campbell Causeway this morning, I couldn’t help but smile. In fact, it’s the first time I had woken up smiling in quite some time, and that is why I remember it so well. With the sun beginning to crawl across the Tampa skyline, even my mild hangover really couldn’t put a damper on my mood. I simply rolled down the windows, turned up the jams, and embraced the Movin EZ sound that is “Journey.”

There was a slight haze around the details of the previous night’s events, but I did know that there were revelations upon my awakening. I had spent the previous night with a good buddy of mine* (*who we will call Mark for all intensive purposes) that had fallen on some tough times as of late. He had just broken up with the girl he had intended to marry for reasons I will not discuss here, but believe me when I say he was well founded in his decision. As I sat across the table from him, I couldn’t help but notice how well he seemed to be handling the whole ordeal. I mean, if I had been in his shoes, I would have been one giant blubbering mess. But not Mark.

Mark had never been the type of guy to see the glass half empty, and believe me there had been times his glass was bone dry. Usually a victim to his own curiosity, adventurous spirit, and one too many shots of Jose Cuervo, Mark had endured stories so crazy you really only see them in sitcoms or Judd Apatow films. If a Friday night didn’t end in the drunk tank, or standing on the side of the road drenched in the rain in a “I HEART SOCCER MOMS” t-shirt… well, how legendary could it have REALLLLLLY been?

As we took toasted our first round for the evening, I made Mark promise me that the night wouldn’t end with me getting to make “one call” to my parents while wearing an orange outfit. He simply smiled, and said I “was on his time now, bitch… and here’s to a night that goes down in infamy. Cheers!”

Oh, I forgot to mention one “small” detail. Did I tell you Mark and I used to go out??

In the days where I still wore cowboy boots as a band costume, Mark had been a freshman at the University of Florida. I would go up and see him on weekends, or he would make the trek down to Tampa. Anyone who has ever attempted this fete knows the way this story ends, and my story was no different. The relationship lasted… maybe 4 months. Long distance relationships were never meant to be practical or permanent, and usually ended in one person’s sacrifice to be with the other. Having just pledged a fraternity, and loving the college life, Mark found less and less time to come see me. And I wanted less and less to do with his drunken fraternity brothers ways. Neither of us wanted to compromise. I think the final straw came when I drove up to surprise him at one of his fraternity’s events, only to find Mark standing at a ping pong table lined with cups of beer… wearing women’s lingerie from Wal-Mart. As I helped carry Mark home in his drunken stuper at the end of the night… I knew it wasn’t meant to be.

Years later, while I was attending FSU I visited Gainesville for the annual FSU UF Football game. The results of the game were not pretty, and neither was the night of partying after it. This was the first time I had gotten a chance to meet Mark’s then girlfriend (now ex fiancé) Chrissy. At first, Chrissy had seemed open to the idea of Mark and I hanging out, but an hour of pre-drinking later I guess she changed her mind. Mark was sworn to never talk to me again.

And that brings me to last night. Since ending his engagement with Chrissy, Mark was on the Apology World Tour, mending all the bridges he had been made to burn during their several-year relationship. While he expected many to tell him to F@$% off because of the way he had just cut all ties, what he was met with was actually quite the opposite. Most were standing there, holding a cold beer for him, saying.. “Welcome back dude.. we’ve been waiting for you.” It’s hard to stay mad at someone like Mark, as he is genuinely just a good ole’ boy. Mark and I could never date again, mainly because we were just so different.. but that didn’t stop us from remembering why we were such great friends. He was always a good relationship counselor; self esteem booster, and all around good time. He makes sure the people around him are loving life just as much as he is, even when the situation dictates a far different mood. After all, life is too short to spend worry about the next time someone will come along and break your heart.

After two hours of dinner, drinks, and discussion, I decided to crash at Mark’s place.. only because the 40 minute drive back to Lutz seemed like a bad idea at that time of night. Mark graciously enough gave me his bed, and he slept on the couch.. because well, that is what friends are for. When I woke up a few hours later to a mild hangover, I walked out into the kitchen to get some water. Mark was standing at the coffee machine, making himself a cup before he got going to work. As I started to recount the previous night’s events with him, he put his hand to his mouth to tell me to keep the noise down. That’s when I noticed the extra body on Mark’s second couch. Walking into the next room and with a look of sheer amazement on my face… I was like..

“Dude, you hooked up with a chick on your couch… while an ex gf of yours got to keep the bed?? That’s awesome.”

Me, being the guys-girl I am, was already going for the “high-five” before Mark spit out the words….

“… it’s Chrissy.”

I pulled back in sheer disgust like someone next to me had barfed, retracting my offer for the high five.

“How.. What… When… HUH???”

“She showed up in the middle of the night, hammered.. wanting to talk to me. I couldn’t kick her out.”

“Does she know I’m here?” I asked.

He nodded, and began to explain the series of events that took place while I got my 5 hours of sleep. He told me how he had rationally explained to her, that it was just two friends that were both going through crappy times, and had more fun feeling crappy together.. than apart. During their two year relationship, she had never really understood that he and I really were just friends, and that I never really was ever a threat. Mark told her that despite our history, there was no real chemistry there anymore.. just a great friendship. And that absolutely nothing would have happened between the two of us (well, three if you count Jose ). The hour long conversation between the two ended with her getting the second couch, and Mark getting 2 hours of sleep before having to head to his seminar.

The night’s events really got me thinking. Mark and I really did have a great friendship. Sometimes, it’s just better to see things for what they really are. Maybe ex’s can still be in the picture, so long as they remain in the background and don’t pull the future out of focus. Even I have found myself tortured by this concept from time to time. Maybe if two people already know how their chapter together ends, they can still be a part of one another’s lives? Clearly there is a reason their storyline didn’t develop into something else, so why would an ex infringe on the other person beginning a new one? It’s perfectly normal to be curious about how the other person’s doing and what’s going on in their life, but to keep rehashing up an old tale that doesn’t end happily ever after… well, that’s not healthy for anyone.

I can honestly say I don’t wish bad things on any of my ex’s. I don’t keep in touch with most of them the way I do Mark, but… that’s because I realized some of them I really had little in common with, and that sometimes the past is just better left in there. We didn’t have the same goals, the same desires, the same “likes” and dislikes. And the rest of your life is a long time to spend with someone you may not even like all that much. For the select few like Mark, well.. they get a free pass from banishment. Not only will he never stop me from moving forward in my life, and finding someone that is perfect for me.. but he’ll be the first to congratulate me when I get there. Or my go-to shoulder until I do.

Mark hasn’t been the leading man in my book since high school, but it hasn’t stopped him from playing an intricate part in how I view relationships. You should always be best friends with the person you are with; the chemistry is just a bonus. Sure, Mark may have been a shitty boyfriend for me, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t perfect for someone else.. so why would I keep him from moving forward in his own pursuit of happiness? Besides, he makes a hell of a wingman and drinking partner. I wish him all the best, and know that if anyone breaks my heart he’ll be one of the first paramedics on the scene. If only other people knew our secrets, there’d be a hell of a lot less jealousy, and a lot more healthy relationships.

I’m not sure whether it was the wind in my hair, or the smell of the bay, but there was a permanent smile across my face. Whether it dawns on you like the sun, or hits you like a hangover… enlightenment is good however it comes to you. So when it does, embrace it, learn from it, and keep on keeping on. There’s nothing wrong with bringing ex’s along the journey, so long as they don’t detract you from getting to your destination. You wouldn’t drive across a bridge in reverse, so why live your life like that?.. After all… if you do.. you could miss the amazing sunrise right in front of you.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

New photo shoot video!

Hey guys...I've been working on getting some new pictures done before I embark on a whole new series of projects, and just wanted give you a sneak peak of what's to come.

This video was shot in Tampa during a photo shoot I had with George Salmon Photography back in May. It features only a small part of the shoot, but the photos will be up on my MySpace page in the near future.

Be sure to stick around, because you might be surprised where I pop up next!

I also want to take a sec to thank everyone for all of their support through some trying times. If you're a regular to my page, you've seen enough status updates to know it's been kinda rough for me lately. I'd have never gotten through this stuff if it wasn't for my friends. I may not get a chance to respond to every message I get because of my schedule, but I do certainly try. And I promise you...I do read every single one of them. I've just been completely swamped, but wanted to let everyone know that I appreciate all of their notes and prayers.

It really means the world to me to know that I have a friendbase in virtually every city I am in.
Love always,


Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Here Lies Chivalry…

Here Lies Chivalry…

Sometimes there are days I wake up and just know I was born in the wrong decade, wrong century, hell.. maybe even era. Sure, I would miss some of my modern day conveniences like TiVo and the Internet but all in all I can’t say I would miss some of the nuances that have developed among my generation’s ideals. Somewhere between women being drug around by their hair in caves and us burning our bras, the concept of chivalry disappeared. Women found as many doors slammed in their faces as they did opened. Flowers and other random acts of kindness became reserved for national holidays or when you were sleeping on the couch. And dates became more of a business transaction than anything else. Sure, the short-sighted people could blame one sex over the other, but really… both sides are to blame.

Much like the dinosaurs, no one really knows what happened to chivalry. It wasn’t like all of American society just woke up one day and said.. I think I will become an @$$hole. No, instead I think it was more just a victim of Darwin’s theory of natural selection. Nature selected the best adapted individual traits to survive in this cruel world we live in and chivalry as we knew it faded into obscurity. Men didn’t open doors anymore. Women treated men like they were somehow responsible for those five days a month they acted like a hormonal bitch. No one said please. No one said thank you. And in the end… we all forgot how to treat one another as human beings.

In a society where women have fought to be treated as equals, one would argue that we in fact are responsible for the death chivalry. We burned bras. We fought to vote. We fought to choose. There was a whole era in the mid nineties about it… I believe the Spice Girls called it “Girl Power.” There is absolutely nothing wrong with this notion that women don’t need a man to be a complete person. I mean, just ask the girls of Sex in the City. Sure I can go “Dutch,” play by the three day “no calling” rule, and walk on the side of the walkway closest to the street. I don’t need to be placed on a pedestal or treat the person I am with like they are indebted to me for my presence in their life. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t expect the people in my life to possess certain values, and above all respect me as an equal.

Being knighted in today’s society simply means you are either Hannibal Lecter or one of the greatest selling music artists who taught the world piercing only one ear meant more than just lack of follow through. The days of men walking around in suits of armor defending fair damsels and cities from fire breathing dragons, fuzzy vampire bunnies, and such… well, they only remain in Monty Python reruns. The only “armor” you can find on today’s market is made of mostly spandex, and I dunno about you… but I don’t picture my prince charming rolling up to save my ass in some tights. So while noble fashion may have fallen in recent years, I don’t see why chivalry should disappear with it.

What most people fail to realize is that chivalry really wasn’t about playing the hero; so much as it was about upholding a moral code of honor and ethics. It really had little to do with patronizing women. In fact, true chivalry was never even gender specific. It was simply about abiding by the rules of the code.

While we could go on and on about the different aspects of chivalry, the gist of the whole thing goes as follows.

*Do whatever it is you do, to the best of your ability. No half-assing here buddy! Take pride in it.
*Be honest. Don’t lie or cheat, or assist others in doing so. They created the Moment of Truth for people like this!!!!.. While you can blame the dog for eating your homework, you certainly can’t blame it for your lapse in judgment.
*Uphold things that are right and just. Be ethical.
*Help those in need and protect individuals who can not protect themselves. Be charitable, be sympathetic, but most of all… defend their honor and rights from oppression. Do you get pissed off and defensive when people mock the fact your favorite team is below .500???.. Yeah??... Well, why protect 30 capable athletes and not someone who really could use your defense???..
*And finally, fulfill all obligations. If you give someone your word, follow through at all costs. I’d rather watch a film from the silent film era than date a guy who was all talk, no action.

No where in the list does it mention holding doors, or picking up tabs, or doing things out of necessity. It simply asks you to make the choice to do the right things in life. Do the right thing, because it’s the right thing to do. Not because there is some ulterior motive involved. I once read a short story by Neil Gaiman entitled "Chivalry,” in which a widow finds the Holy Grail at a second hand store and proceeds to guard it the way the code intended for it to be. The female grail-keeper puts a knight seeking the Grail through a series of tests of virtue which have nothing to do with the strength of his sword-arm or with impressing beddable women. It was simply a matter or whether he would do the right thing when called upon. Gaiman not only demonstrates how the concept of “value” has been lost in today’s society (with the Grail’s discovery at a junk sale), but he also shows that true chivalry knows no gender.

You can apply the concepts of chivalry to your career, your friendships, but more importantly… to your relationship. When I think of all the failed relationships I have witnessed in my twentysomeodd years on this planet, they all lacked a certain characteristic: respect. They simply did not value their partner for who they were as a person. They would control them, belittle them, question their opinions… make them feel like they were simply inadequate. There is no compassion for one another, no loyalty, and trust. Eventually, they find themselves fighting against each other instead of on the same team, at which point the relationship is dead in the water. Each side points fingers. He says she is a feminist bitch. She accuses him of not stepping up to the plate and using his masculine powers for evil. She is an egotistical princess. And I now dub thee.. Prince selfish.

I’ve always believed you treat the people in your life the way you want to be treated: with respect, dignity, and honor. Family aside, the rest of the characters in your circle are don’t have to be a part of your life. They choose to be. Particularly if they are crazy enough to actually want to date you. You don’t have to kiss their ass, or worship them… but do make them feel like they are a wanted presence in your life, especially if all they do is make your life easier. Don’t reserve “pleases” and “thank yous” for professional settings and your elders. Just because someone is your peer doesn’t make them any less deserving of your respect and acknowledgment. Disrespecting others only leaves you sitting at the round table by yourself there, Arthur.

I’d never expect the man I am with to become my bitch. In fact, I’d be insulted if he didn’t assert himself against people who put him down and belittle him. After all, if you can’t defend yourself.. how and the hell do I know you will ever stand up for me if called upon?..

It all comes down to a basic code. One of courtesy. One of respect. One of honor. I won’t start quoting lines from Karate Kid soundtracks or anything, but it’s comforting to know the person you are with will always have your back. You wouldn’t sit back and watch your buddy get his ass kicked in a bar fight would you???... (Well.. maybe if you thought he secretly was long overdue for an attitude adjustment.) Then why treat your significant other any different???...

Relationships aren’t all happily ever-afters and horseback rides into the sunset. Even the best ones can take some work. But as long as you learn to respect yourself and the person you are with… it’s never too late to rewrite your story. So why are you still sitting around in a glass box you moron??..

Besides, any girl that waits for a knight should always remember…

They’ll have to clean up after his horse.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Jenn Sterger 1st Video Blog


OK, OK...I know I dropped the ball by not posting this earlier last week when Jenn posted it to her You Tube channel page...I guess I am no longer in the running for Blogger's Admin of the Year without further waiting, here is the first of what we hope will be many Vlogs that will give y'all a more personal look into her day to day experiences and what's going on in her life...Enjoy!!

Or if you need a direct link, click here!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

The Wheels On the Bus…

Lately it feels like my life has become one giant race circuit. I do a lap around the country, only to make a pit stop in Tampa. With a fresh batch of clothes, a restocking of supplies, and few nights in my own bed, I head back out on the road. If you blink, you might miss me. But I have never found myself too busy to be a real friend to the people I care about, especially when they needed my support. Whether it’s a bite to eat, or a quick workout at the gym, I make sure to give my friends and family as much time as humanly possible, because I miss the familiarity of faces as much as anyone.

My travels aren’t all woe is me. They have actually given me opportunities to meet and become friends with people I would have never had the opportunity to do so otherwise. Throughout my high school career, I had many meetings with my guidance counselor Richard Peak. It’s not like I was depressed, or eating my feelings, or eating nothing at all, or having issues with the Mean Girls… I just wanted, well.. guidance. Sure, my parents are well rounded, intelligent people but sometimes I question the validity and relevance of their advice as it applies to the times I live in. I mean, when my dad was dating.. I’m pretty sure “Grease” was still the word, and not yet a hit musical. And my mom was such the good girl that she really didn’t deal with the douschebaggery that plagues most of today’s dating scene. So, I found a great confidante in Mr. Peak. He was just that cool adult that got today’s generation, and did it without being “that guy.” Some of the best advice he gave me was a story about a bus.

He told me, “Jenn, life is like a bus… and you are its driver.”

Me? I was like.. “Clearly you have never seen my driving Mr. Peak, or you would know I could never be a bus driver.”

“No, Jenn,” he said, “Life is like a bus in the way people enter and leave our lives. You see, some people will get on and only go for a few stops. Not because they don’t care, but simply because it was just a natural progression in life’s journey. Then, there are others that get on and ride til the very last stop. Those are your true friends. You have the right to choose who can come along on your journey. And the others that try to drive from the backseat, annoy the other passengers, and try to prevent you from getting to your destination??? Well, you let them know that their pass to ride your bus has expired.”

This past weekend found me retracing my father’s steps, and brought me back to the city of Indianapolis. Though I was there mostly for work, the weekend turned out to be much more therapeutic and enlightening than anything else.
The city of Indy is not only home to my family roots, but also home to one of those influential figures you meet along the way… Will Carroll. Will joined my journey about two years ago when the two of us were slated to work on a project together for a television network. And though our business venture didn’t quite pan out, an amazing friendship did. He and his wife have been through some tough times with me, and have played a major role in my evolution as a young adult. Sounds corny, sure.. but maybe I’m looking for corny in my life.

As most of you can tell, the journey I have been on for the past three years has been both extraordinary and disheartening. MySpace can’t possibly have an emoticon for every feeling I have experienced, nor could most shrinks explain them to me. The random series of events that have transformed my life have brought into it some amazingly interesting people. From the professional athletes, to the high paid producers, to the creepy club owners, to the sexually explicit shock jock, and of course all the places in between. But I have never been one to judge someone solely on society’s stereotypes. Instead, I have made my own judgments only after getting to know them. I’d like to think I am a pretty good judge of character. Very few fakes slip past me, and the ones that do… well, it will never happen again. I pride myself on knowing people. I mean, I “get” people. I’m extremely relatable, personable, and considerate.. all while being brutally honest and forthcoming. I just believe in treating every person the way I want to be treated. If they don’t reciprocate… well, it’s their loss.

It’s not easy knowing a person’s true motives for being your friend. Why do they want to hang out with you? What’s in it for them? Are they a truly genuine person? Sad to say, most of them aren’t. Not to say that these people are rejected by society because I am sure someone somewhere can call these types of people “friends.” I mean, whatever floats your boat guys. But at the end of the day, if a person isn’t there just to share in my experiences, and be there for me as a true friend… well.. their pass for my bus doesn’t usually last for more than a few blocks. Hell, they are lucky if they don’t become road kill because while I may break for animals, I certainly don’t break for crappy people. After all, you are judged by your associates, and I don’t need people out there that will tarnish my name, and I don’t need people to reflect their questionable behavior on me. So why waste time on the fakes and the phonies? The people that want you for something other than just your unconditional friendship??.. With my time as limited as it is, I’d rather not waste a single second with someone that doesn’t return the value of my friendship back to me. I’m tired of wasting time, money, effort, and energy on anything but the real deal.

The power of the internet has had as great of an influence on my life as my travels have, in that I have met many of good friends and acquaintances on here. From the Locker Room, to networking sites like Facebook and MySpace, I have managed to meet tons of new faces, and share a good laugh or cry with many of you. I’d even say we’re “friends.” Hell, some of you are more loyal than the people that see me on a regular basis. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it, because I always give you the utmost respect, and help out/respond when I can. I mean, I’ve never lied to you, or lead you astray about who I was.. because well, what kinda friend would that make me? I have however, been candid about my life, my experiences both good and bad.. and admittedly sometimes a glass case of emotion that would make even Ron Burgundy a bit jealous. But that’s who I am. The brutally honest girl. The straightshooter that isn’t afraid to tell you how it is. So if you’re reading this, odds are you chose to stick around for a few more blocks. And for that, I am eternally grateful. Because while we may never meet face to face, you will always know that I have been nothing but myself with you. I’ve been unconditional. I’ve been honest. And isn’t THAT what being a friend is all about?

While most people think of Indy as a city of fast cars and Super Bowl Champions, I think of Indy as a safe haven. A sanctuary of sorts, where I can gather my thoughts, my emotions, and my strength, all with the help of a few good friends. It felt good to feel wanted, accepted, and appreciated, but it felt best to know that it was 100% genuine. So while the rest of the city was going 230 mph around me, my world hit pause and let me find myself again.

Will and his wife are just two of those people you meet along life’s journey. There are countless other friends that have stood by me to face the critics and the music when everyone else chose to turn their backs. Sara is my superhero, constantly saving my ass on occasions too numerous to count. Roger is my defender to bloggers, haters, and the people that choose to attack me without warning or purpose. Drew is my cheerleader, constantly trying to tell me that people will be better than the really are, but yet is always optimistic they will change. Ash and Yenly are my personal jesters, who are always good for a laugh, and are guaranteed to give me a case of the hiccups. Serena is.. well.. as brutally honest as they come. And Will and his wife, are the pioneers that taught me.. I should never settle for anything less than what I deserve. There are countless other friends that have taught me things both about society and myself, and for this they are always welcome in my life. With my family at my back, and my friends by my side, I’m pretty much a force to be reckoned with.

Some say it takes a village to raise a kid. Well, for me?.. It’s more like a bus. The seating may be limited, the ride may hit a few bumps, and sometimes you’re lucky if you can barely hang on to the bumper… but I promise you it will be a journey to remember. After all, true friends aren’t just there when things are great. They are the one’s that stick around when things are anything but.

And I’m just lucky enough to have some great friends that chose to stick along for the ride.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

The You Tube Lecture Video making the internet rounds...again


Well, it's obviously that slow period between football major events...the NFL draft is over, college ball is entering that summer dead time before players "officially" report to school..god knows the NBA can't end fast enough for me and MLB?...yawn..wake me up in October for that one...or don't, I could care less..

That being said, it never ceases to amaze me how other people will then spend their spare time anyway. Apparently, one solution for these geniuses is to drudge up 2 year old You Tube videos and try to pass them off as new content!!

My Admin Gmail account has been hit these past two days with Google Alerts regarding Jenn and some bloggers reporting on this "incredible find". This particular video was posted Wednesday on one blog site as "new content". That of course got picked up by the mental giants at other larger sites and is now being reported in multiple places. While Jenn could actually give a crap about any of this, I, on the other hand, am significantly bored (see first paragraph above) and feel like responding. So here we go!

Lets start with facts....I know this concept is foreign to most of these bloggers and their fans, but...THIS VIDEO CLIP IS OVER TWO YEARS OLD! Don't take my word, go look it up on You Tube...Jenn wrote about it on her blog in April 2006. If you don't feel like reading that post, in a nutshell, here is what you are really seeing online:

1) She was invited, while still a student at FSU, to present an hour long speech and Q&A session to a student public relations class on the topic of "Representation of Women's Bodies in Cyberspace". The professor thought, given Jenn's personal dealings with her sudden rise to internet popularity while still a student, with the Maxim and Playboy issues being released that month, that she was in a perfect position to share her views and experiences with the class.

2) That same day, a reporter and film crew from the Tallahassee Democrat (the local newspaper) were following her around campus for a "Day in the life" segment about the local girl and the buzz surrounding the upcoming magazines being released.

3) When the Democrat heard she was going to do the class that night, they decided on their own to film the whole 1 hour event. What got posted to You Tube were small clips of the Q&A session where she was answering questions asked by other classmates. None of it was planned to be spread all over the internet. The Tallahassee Democrat posted these clips originally with the article that ran. They of course got posted to You Tube (and of course without the Democrat credit or logo, they were conveniently chopped off). Since all of this is over TWO YEARS OLD, the links on the Democrat website we originally posted are no longer active. But, since I'm a great Admin, I uploaded a copy of the original Tallahassee Democrat article for all to enjoy.

So it's that simple, and yes, that boring of a story. It's not some random announcement like the bloggers are posting. It's not a press conference about her boobs. It was a few minutes of clips of her talking about what kinds of things were happening to her back then, taken out of context and out of order. It's Jenn being honest and candid about her personal life, which, if you have read this blog over the years, is exactly what and who she is. The clips show a nervous college girl being asked to speak about her personal life in front of a large group of people for the first time in her life, all while being filmed by a newspaper to support a major article.

But hey, I don't want to ruin the fun of all the other blog sites out there...I'm fully aware much your site traffic explodes when you post an article about Jenn...and I'm sure you need all the Ad Sense revenue you can possibly have at it! We will keep posting the facts here, and on Facebook, MySpace and a few other online media ventures we will be pleased to announce in the months keep checking back here for the true stuff...or be lazy like me and set up a Google Alert for Jenn, I can't keep up with her crazy posting schedule lately..:)

Oh well, time for me to back away from my PC and head out and enjoy my weekend.. Since apparently we are living in 2006, I guess have to go get my new Maxim so I can see Jenn's Cowgirl photos!! Exciting!!

Thanks for letting me rant...

Jax - Admin

Jenn's original blog dated April 25th, 2006

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Simple Gifts

This tax season taught me a lot more than just “always hire an accountant.” It also taught me that I spend a ridiculous amount of money on other people. I’ve always prided myself on being a good gifter. I mean, I spend a lot of time carefully selecting my gifts. After all, you want to give the person something that is an extension of your feelings for them, right?...

Maybe that is why I hate Christmas. There is just so much build up. I cause myself entirely too much anxiety trying to pick out gifts for all the important people in my lives. I mean, even gift cards are thought out, as I will usually make them have some sort of “theme.” I refuse to get them just a visa gift card, or a target card. It’s just too vague. And cash?.. Please. I’m not an ATM. If they want cash they can go to a bank.

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend of mine in New York City over weddings. I made some comment about buying people “wedding gifts,” and he laughed at me.

“You southerners crack me up…” he said. “You really don’t get it. We give newlywed couples up here money… It isn’t so much about giving them anything they can use; it’s more so about helping the couple recoup their lost expenses. Depending on where the reception is held, and what kind of food they serve, you usually can determine a rational amount of money to gift them.”

This entire concept totally baffled me. You’re supposed to give GIFTS. Something they may want. Something they may need. When did giving someone a gift suddenly become about settling a debt?... It’s not like I am dealing with a bookie or a collection agency or anything. I’m doing something nice for someone special in my life to let them know I was thinking about them. What’s wrong with that?...

When the time came to pick out something for my mother and grandmother for Mother’s Day, I was absolutely dumbfounded. In going with this newly introduced rationale of “gifting,” how do you repay the two women who gave you life?... And then some?...

My search began in the most typical of stomping grounds: The Mall. Maybe I could get her an iPod and some kind of doo-dad that makes it work in her car… but my mom can barely operate a DVD player. So, that’s out. I could get her some cool stuff from Williams Sonoma… but that would just give her and my grandmother even more reason to bake ridiculously rich things that none of us really need to eat. Or maybe I could pick her out a nice outfit at Cache or one of those “mom” stores. Nah.. I wouldn’t even know what size to buy… or what the latest trends are in “Momwear.” My mission at the mall… was a complete bust.

Normally leaving the mall empty handed meant I had accomplished some amazing feat. It meant I had exercised will power and self restraint. I had fought the battle against the devil that is American consumerism.. and won. But this particular outing.. it meant I had failed. How could my creative genius not come up with something as simple as a gift for my own mother? I know it’s the thought that counts.. but I still didn’t want her to feel slighted.

My mom has been there for me when no one else has. I’ve learned things about love, life, and all the stuff in between, that you simply can’t learn from anyone else. My mother has taught me that the in order to be loved, I have to love myself, and that settling is never an option. She’s made the act of forgiveness an art, and showed me sometimes it’s a lot more than just saying sorry. But most importantly, she’s taught me that the glass isn’t half full, or half empty.. but more like.. it’s just not big enough to hold all the love she had for my sister and me.

I can remember the nights she sat up with me going over spelling words, even when I insisted I could do them in my sleep, and even promised I WOULD. There were the Saturday mornings where she and my dad and my grandparents would come to the bowling alley to watch me bowl a 36, and pray for the day that number would enter the triple digit realm. I remember her lecturing my sister for calling some kid at the preschool a ‘silly ass’, and telling her that just because “Peter Pan says it in the play,” it didn’t make it right. (Followed by a “Peter Pan didn’t have a mother, either!!!”) There were the times she would comfort my sister and I when one of our hermit crabs, gerbils, hamsters, bunnies, guinea pigs, rats, and pretty much any other pet a kid could possibly own died, and always made sure they were given the proper burial rights. I remember the nights she spent sitting in the stands watching me conduct my high school band through “One More Time Chick Corea,” until even the title became a little redundant. And I remember the day I left for college, where… even when she tried her best to be happy for me for leaving the nest… she still cried.

It’s weird the moments that come back to you when you start to think of all the things she did that she never had to do. They certainly weren’t listed in the job requirements. The only real basic prerequisite a mother should fulfill is that she love you to the best of her abilities. The rest is all bonus.

I certainly don’t have any kids, but I have a cat.. and she’s still alive.. and that counts for something right? Being a good nurturer just runs in my family, back for as many generations as I can remember. My grandmother moved in with us a little over a year ago. No one will deny that it’s been quite an adjustment for all of us. She and my mother still have their mother daughter moments, which I am sure I will share with them as I grow older. But even despite the generation gap, I still appreciate and respect my grandmother for the marvel that she is. She is the early riser, the overachiever, the master chef, and who could forget the skilled seamstress??... (Did your grandmother ever help you sew a pair of assless chaps for a football game?? Didn’t think so.) I’ve done my best to keep her young, and keep her current. And she has done her best to support me in all my endeavors. I’m not saying she wrote about my Playboy spread in her Christmas letter or anything, but she certainly isn’t ashamed of anything I have done since this whole crazy journey started. Hell, she’s even learning how to use the internet just to watch my clips, and even read emails from time to time. If that’s not love, I dunno what is.

Sometimes when I have been away from home, I can tell it starts to weigh on mom. Hell, it starts to weigh on me. I know it sounds cliché, but my mom truly is my best friend. Who else can I share all my secrets with, and no that another set of ears will never be privy to my classified files? Who else can I bitch about boys, bosses, and bitches to… that I know has been there, done that? Who do I know that will give it to me straight, even when it’s much easier to lie?

Moms don’t get paid overtime to do what they do. They do what they do out of love. They don’t have to do your laundry, make you home cooked meals, or spoil you with love. They do it, because they want to. Why? Because being a mom is the greatest role you can possibly fulfill. God made mom’s to watch us when he’s off tending to the rest of the world. To keep us safe, to keep us happy, and to keep us loved. They are the greatest disciples, shepherds, and preachers of all time. And boy can my mom preach. ;)

Then I got to thinking… maybe you can never truly repay your mother for everything she’s given you, but you can certainly give her credit where credit is due. I could never thank my mother enough for all the personal sacrifices she has made over the past 24 years (and nine months), just to make me the person I am today. 9 months of unstylish maternity wear. 8 years of subjecting her ears to amateur singing, musical-instrument playing, talent shows that lacked.. well.. part of the title. 16 years of chauffeuring til the tires fell off. 20 years of rent-free living, and a hotel that will always leave the light on for me when I’m not on the road. 3 years of being a step mother to one of the bitchiest cats on the planet. And 24 years of learning from the best so maybe one day I can repay the favor of proving she taught me well. When you put it all out there.. a stupid gift that fits in a box simply won’t cut it.

These words are for my mother. And grandmother (if she ever learns what a blog even is). For putting up with me.. and all that that entails. You’ve taught me life isn’t easy, but it can still be all it’s cracked up to be. That I am the creator of my own destiny. That the human heart, though it may break.. is one of the most resilient parts of a person. Thanks for teaching me that even when the times get tough, the only thing you really need to survive… is love.

So you New Yorkers can keep your money, and Southerners can keep your toasters, and coasters, and every other household item in Martha Stewart’s collection. After all, it’s true what they say…

There are just some things money can’t buy.

Love you Mommy and Mommom.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

She’s Got a “Great Personality”

“This one goes out to you Carly Simon...”

I hate it when my guy friends ask me to set them up with a girl. It’s not that I am cock-blocking, or holding out on finding them the girl of their dreams… it’s just my way of avoiding the inevitable drama of what will happen if things “don’t work out.” When things are great, you are their favorite person on the planet. But when things head south, well… you might as well pack your bags and head for Miami with them… because things get real ugly, real fast. And of course, since you’re friends with both parties, you’re catching heat from both sides, before ultimately you will have to choose one.

When something fails, it’s only natural to retrace your steps all the way back to the beginning to pinpoint when things went wrong. Returning to our prior conversation, the answer usually lies within the opening lines of dialog. That’s right. The… “What is she like??” To which I normally respond, “Well.. she has a great personality.”


That. That right there. Is the kiss of Death.

When you’re being questioned about the prospect of setting someone up that you know with another acquaintance of yours, and you are asked to describe the person: Never begin with a phrase… “She’s got a great personality.” As silly and as “high school” as it may sound, when someone asks you to describe another person, they are ultimately asking for a list of physical attributes first. I’m not saying you have to describe them as some hot neck breaker when they fall much more into the mediocre category, but I’m sure there was at least some physical attribute you could have tossed into the mix.. whether it’s their eyes, their smile… whatever. Give them something, anything!! But, personality???.. Sadly, to the vast majority, this date is already doomed for failure.

Why is it that American culture has these preconceived notions of what constitutes an attractive person? Far too often people substitute looks for more important qualities needed to maintain a steady, healthy, meaningful relationship. Like.. is the individual a good person? Are they loyal? Are they considerate? Do they make my life better? Do I enjoy being in this person’s presence? Nope. Instead, it’s.. what will everyone else think of my date? How does this person reflect on me? What do they look like…better yet, naked?.. Will my significant other turn heads, or stomachs?.. Shallow, but its reality.

I went to Florida State University, which has arguably one of the biggest collections of hot college co-eds in the nation. I mean, when I look back, I was average at best. But that’s not to say that some of these aforementioned “hot girls” weren’t about as smart or as competent as that kid from your kindergarten class that was notorious for eating glue from the bottle. And I should know, as I have had one or two… (:::cough::: thousand) heated debates with them in some of my classes. They’d come to class in their cute little Paris Hilton skirts and flip flops, in full make up and hair like they were heading to the club, not Criminal Psychology. Me?.. I was perfectly content rolling out of bed, throwing on a baseball hat and some flip flops. Why?? Because being rolled up in my sheets in a nice warm bed for an extra hour, was far better than shellacking on my warpaint to walk down fraternity row in search of my future ex boyfriend.

So to be picked from a crowd of 80,000 at a football game, could have happened to practically anyone. For me, it was just dumb luck, being in the right place at the right time.. and wearing the right outfit. Hell, I will be the first person to admit that I would not be in the position I am today had it not been for the way I look. But, there had to be that something extra under the hood that has kept me going almost 2 and a half years later. After all, looks can only get you so far, so when those begin to fade there’s gotta be some sorta substance left to get you through the rest of life. Otherwise the 26 year old hot chick you married, is now a cankled 40 year old headache. And you’re a 45 year old dude, with a curfew as early as your teenage kids.

I once read a “singles” ad in which some girl was asking how to pick up an older, financially secure man in New York City. Before I had even gotten half way through the gold-digger’s rant, I wanted to reach through the computer screen to this woman’s email inbox and issue her a huge virtual bitch slap in the face. She argued that because she was an attractive woman in her mid to late twenties, that she was entitled to date someone successful, and that she couldn’t possibly understand why every day during her walks down Fifth Avenue. she saw ridiculously successful business men with even more ridiculously unattractive women. She wanted to know why these men settled for anything else but the “best,” herself obviously included.

But before I could fire off any kind of response at this woman’s shallow post, a more qualified fighter beat me to the punch. A successful businessman on Wall Street piped with such a business savvy, harsh rebuttal that even I had to applaud him. He explained to her that being a wealthy business man has its advantages, and that he had learned over time, the importance of making wise long term investments. You see, a month long fling with a good –looking, albeit high maintenance gold-digger in the end was simply not worth his time, effort, or money. Why??.. He went on to say that her main argument for “right to be a kept woman” was her looks. What she was proposing was a simple business deal: Good looks for guaranteed income. In the harsh realities of the business world, if you are not meeting demands and keeping up with those around you, you ultimately lose your position. The businessman understood that with the proper investments his income could only increase with time, while her looks were in fact a depreciating asset. Therefore, just as she would expect him to continue to support her with his income he would in turn expect her to uphold her good looks. Should these begin to fade, he hopes she would understand that their contract of relationship would be null and void. Now that.. is a smart business man. Lease the “looker,” invest in the “real thing.”

Everyone has their minimum requirements of the person they want to pursue a relationship with. They have specific tastes, desires… thus the term of being someone’s “type.” Me, for example? Well, come to think of it … I really don’t have a type. One would guess that I date a bunch of overly big macho athletes when the fact of the matter is, my relationships have all been based on what I was needing at the time I was in it. And the majority of the time.. it was simply a best friend. Don’t get me wrong, I am not afraid to admit that I have gone on a date or two with the hot guy from high school that I never had a chance with back in the day, but these were also the dates I found myself doing my fantasy baseball draft underneath the table on my Blackberry. Can you say, “check please?”

Going through the list of guys I have dated, even on a casual basis there really is no single physical attribute they all had in common. There were tall guys, skinny guys, fat guys, short guys… blondes, brunettes, red heads, should-always-wear-a-hat heads… old guys, young guys, could-have-been-in-my-grade guys... Chevy guys, Bentley guys, all-they-could-afford guys… There were guys that could toss a ball, and some guys with no real skills at all. And the last part… could be true on so many levels.

As I sat down and started to play the Jenn Sterger’s crappy ex boyfriend edition of “Guess Who,” I began flipping down the faces that didn’t make the cut. There was the guy that sat across the table from me, and gazed into my eyes so intensely that I thought I was on a date with Cyclops from the X-Men. That is until I realized that there was a giant mirror over my left shoulder and he had really been on a date with himself for the past hour and fifteen minutes. I excused myself so the two of them could be alone. There was the guy who took me to an expensive restaurant, offered to pay… and then asked to borrow money in order to pay the bill. I gave him half, and told the dishwashers that he was their slave for the evening. And then, there was the classic tale of the guy I went to a school dance with… that ended up leaving me at the dance because I wouldn’t have sex with him, taking the limo that my parents had gotten me to make my senior dance “special,” forcing me to call my father to come pick me up at the dance sometime around midnight. I forget to mention, Prince Charming also slept with a good friend of mine that very same night. Where is a fairy godmother with a pumpkin when you need one? Needless to say neither of them signed my yearbook.

I’m sure a few of you are going, all right.. this girl is totally embellishing for sake of making a few bad jokes and to save face in a list of failed dating scenarios. Honey.. I wish I was. And as for the bad jokes.. humor is my coping strategy to get through the tough stuff.

With only a few faces left on the board, I was down to the usual suspects. The guys that had made it past the first couple of rounds. The guys that “went the distance.” I realized they all had something in common: “Great Personalities.” While each had different ingredients, there was something about them and their character that stood out from the rest. Their wit. Their sense of humor. Their attention to detail. Their career ambition. Their passions toward a hobby. Their compassion to others. The way they treat their mothers. The way they knew that it was okay to sit together, and just say nothing at all. The way they’d make me laugh. The way they’d make me think it was my high school sweetheart all over again. The way they would go out of their way just to make my life a little better than it was before. After all, when you leave a relationship, you should always leave the person better off than when you found them. Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me naïve. But don’t you dare call me a pilgrim. But rest assured pal, there are no buckles on my shoes, because I sure as hell ain’t no settler.