There Is “No Coffee”

We’ve all gotten that phone call: the one that sends your day into an utter tailspin. That.. “Why don’t we get together for coffee sometime” call. Sure from the outside, it may just seem like an innocent invite, but it’s the person on the other end of the phone that makes this call absolutely… awkward. Your Ex.

Did you hear it?.. That sound??.. Yeah, that was the sound of car brakes screeching to a halt, much like your heart rate, and the rest of the world… or at least yours. There’s nothing worse than a sneak attack, a phone call ambush. Just when you think you’ve gotten to the point where you can honestly say you’ve moved on and are finally picking up the pieces, one ring of the phone can upset the balance of your tiny little universe. Just like that.

What is so wrong with one little meeting?.. You were friends before you started dating. Besides, its just coffee. What harm could an hour of conversation over some overpriced Starbucks latte concoction really do?...

Then your voice of reason chimes in… with an angry bitch slap to the face. SLAP! (That’s gonna leave a mark.) Wake up Sterger!.. This isn’t about coffee. It was never about coffee. Hell, you don’t even DRINK coffee. This is something different all together. What harm could this little meeting cause, you ask??... Hm, I think they made a movie about it.. it’s called The Day After Tomorrow.

I know all this may sound a tad over dramatic, but for those of you who have been following the soap opera that has been my personal life over the past year or so, you can attest that my storyline has been the kind of material that wins Daytime Emmy Awards. (HA! Take that Susan Lucci!!!...) To say my last relationship was a tumultuous one, well.. that would be a vast understatement. There were so many lies, so many problems, and a finale so long and drawn out, that even the flying dog from the Neverending Story would have thrown up his paws and said.. “eff this, I am out.”

I should have prefaced all of this with: been there, done that. Got the really swoot t-shirt. I have had the “coffee meeting.” A month post the initial break up. And we both decided that what we had was worth giving a real honest shot. Only half of us wasn’t being honest, and it left the other one of us.. just doing shots. The bickering went on. The lies went on. And in the end.. the last sip.. we both agreed our “coffee” had gotten stale.

Once coffee’s gone stale, there’s no bringing it back from the dead. Its flat, its bland, there’s no aroma. It’s simply a cup of dirty water. You can put all the cream and fancy sweeteners in a cup of freshly brewed black coffee, but if the coffee itself isn't quality stuff or its turned stale, it's still going to taste like crap.

Revisiting the past is just a bad idea, not only for myself, but for people in general. I’ve spent the past six months of my life cleaning up the mess the other half left behind, and I can finally say I’m on my way to being happy again. Bringing up old memories only sets you back. There aren’t enough psychological drugs or therapy sessions that would ever make my previous situation a viable one, so why even bother?.. Sure, I have my ups and downs, but time heals that. I’ve found myself again, and more importantly, I’ve surrounded myself with good people. People who deserve an honest chance to be a part of my life, and not one clouded by the cream in my stale cup of coffee. It’s not fair to drag a good person into my unresolved situation for the sake of not being lonely. In the end, they’ll simply be the innocent bystander in my mess. And I would never want to put someone through the same thing I’ve been through.

I guess it’s a good thing I don’t drink the stuff. I mean, if you’re looking for the rush there’s always soda, tea, and of course energy drinks. At least they don’t leave you with that awful breath that smells like two-day old bologna. And for this girl they certainly don’t bring about the bad memories like a cup of joe does.

There’s no doubt that the smell of freshly brewed coffee is comforting and familiar. But no matter how good it may smell, to this girl.. it has and always will taste like crap

Jenn Sterger: Jets' Girl Tackles Gridiron

ADMIN UPDATE:

Hey all!!

Sorry for the delay in posting this....Jenn did an interview about her experiences this past season working with the Jets, and how she is adjusting to life in New Jersey...you can read it all HERE

Enjoy!! And keep checking back...2009 will be a busy and exciting year for Jenn...

Pairs

I was on the train to my girlfriend Stacie’s house the other day, when it happened AGAIN. I say again, because ever since the first snow rolled around in October, I have been on a weekly, sometimes bi-weekly replacement program. One of the many ever-so-awesome things about winter are these super sweet hand accessories you Northerners call gloves. But, for a Southern girl with an obsession for texting, I simply refer to them as the biggest pain in the @$$. Sure, they may come in handy when your fingers are frozen and on the verge of falling off. And they’re cute additions to any Santa inspired ensemble, but other than that they are simply one more thing I have to keep track of once I get to my destination. And the fact they come in pairs???.. The absent-minded’s worst nightmare. First it was the ever elusive pair of socks that were always going MIA in the dryer. And now, there were gloves. And unless you are bringing back the days of Billie Jean and Thriller, you better have two of them.

Ever since there was man, it seems we humans have had a knack for putting things in pairs. Whether they be animals on an ark, a pair of gloves, or even bicycle wheels, it just always seemed more symmetrical to find an object’s other half. Maybe that is why in the midst of finding our way through life and our own career paths, we often become sidetracked with the ever plaguing problem of finding our mate. And like that missing sock (or in my case glove) it seems, the more we look for it the less likely we are to find it. So some of us just give up all together.

Sometimes we become so preoccupied in our search for the “one”, that we lose the part of us that makes us who we are. I am no exception. In a time when I’ve watched many of my high school friends run off, get married, and have kids, I often wonder if I maybe… I missed the Ark. Their lives seem so complete and so happy and fulfilled, while mine seems… well, one big chaotic mess. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and would curse the day I had to resort to the monotony of a nine to five, but there is still a part of me that longs for some kind of constant variable to hold this mess together. Some stability??

Turning through the pages of my yearbook, it seemed everyone I knew was settling down. People who never ran in the same circles were suddenly sending out engagement announcements and wedding invitations. Homecoming kings with band dorks, stoners with valedictorians, Quarterback of the football team with the head cheerleader (well, some things really never change). It was the Breakfast Club’s ten year reunion. (!@#$. Has it been almost ten years?.. REALLY?.. ) Some of my classmates have kids that are starting school already. And some of them take their kids to the same pediatrician I still go to in case of emergencies. What alternate universe have I entered???

Why is it that we humans are always pairing off?... All my friends try to set me up with Mr. “I know this guy that is so perfect for you,” when in reality I’m simply reliving the vicious cycle of narcissistic fist pumping Northeasterners that is my dating pool Can you say.. “Check please??”

Every time I would lose a glove, I’d spend half a day or so looking for it, and suffering in the bitter cold, before I would bite the bullet and pony up for a new pair. My dad asked why I didn’t just mix and match pairs or turn one of them around. Was he serious??.. First, gloves were made to fit specific hands so wearing it would only make my hands even more awkward in their operation than they already are in this twelve degree frozen hell. And as for the whole mix and match theory?... Psh.. I am a girl, not Stevie Wonder. I’m pretty sure people expect me to get dressed with the lights on. If I show up with one brown glove and one blue glove?.. Hell, even Carrie Bradshaw wasn’t that fashion forward. It’s like, “hey everyone, look how ridiculously hot I look, as I get my right hand amputated due to frostbite!!!!”

Don’t get me wrong, I see absolutely nothing with settling down. As I said, I welcome the stability. But I am certainly not going to date a blue glove just because I lost the black one. And I’m definitely not going to try to change the other person, or make them fit the mold of what I am looking for. Then no one is happy, because we’re all just trying to be what everyone expects of us. My theory has always been that if it’s right, it will just fit. And if the glove don’t fit, well… then you must split. After all, why settle for something that isn’t perfect, isn’t a real match?.. For the sake of not being lonely???.. That’s no reason to enter any kind of relationship, and inevitably someone will end up left out in the cold.

The great thing about gloves is that while they may get lost by themselves, they’re almost always sold in pairs. And in NYC, they can be found at just about every street vendor. I don’t need the hefty price tags or expensive labels, just that warm fuzzy feeling that takes the edge of the cold winter air’s bite. Besides, when you find the perfect pair that fits you just right, well… you just can’t beat that feeling.

Jenn Sterger once again teams up with the Burly Sports for 2008 video

ADMIN UPDATE:

Hey all!! Quick update:

Jenn once again teams up with the Burly Sports gang to provide the Burly Sports: The Past Year in Sports 2008 video.

Check it out as Jenn "travels" to some of the country's infamous sports towns to remember some of the year's infamous stories...

Enjoy!!

NY Daily News story on Jenn Sterger

ADMIN UPDATE:

Hey guys,

Just wanted to share a quick update on this article that ran today on the NY Daily News website about Jenn...I know she was disappointed on the premature end of the Jets season, but I know she is looking forward to 2009 and a lot of new things that are shaping up already...we will, of course, have all the breaking news here first!!

Enjoy!!

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.

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.


ADMIN COMMENT:

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.. :)

HOW STERGER GOT HER GROOVE BACK

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.

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 warned...it's scary good...:)

The Tenant Official Website

The Tenant Teaser Trailer

The Tenant on IMDB

Jenn's page on IMDB

ADMIN UPDATE:

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.

ADMIN UPDATE #2:

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.

J E N N - JETS! JETS! JETS!

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...

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???....

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...

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! :)

Jenn for President

Admin Update: Jenn for President!

July 4th Spectacular Video

ADMIN UPDATE:

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.

More videos from the "Burly Sports Show" channel at Heavy.com

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.

Enjoy

Part I
Part II

Castaway

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.

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.

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,

-Jenn

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.