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A Girl’s Best Friend

I haven’t been here in a while.

I’m sorry!

I know, I know…

But I’ve been busy.

Life has gotten in the way of well…


And I’ve been writing for some pretty kick-ass publications! I’m on BLUNTMoms, and SuburbanMisfitMoms. And in the Charlotte Observer! Jesus. I’m legit. Like who woulda thunk it? After three years of writing, I’d actually get paid for spewing my crap. Ha. Well, I only have you all to thank. So, well…thanks. Thank you, from the bottom of my Hurvitz heart. I have a big one, ya know. A super, big…gigantic HEART! Even though I swear like a truck driver, and talk about my vagina, I have a heart. And it really is filled with all kinds of love for you, my readers. And now, I’m here. Back to tell you some really big news!

I have grown up.

Yes, you heard me…I’m a big girl now. After forty-four years of living on this planet I have finally done something right! Besides using the correct fork with my salad…

I have fallen in-like with the RIGHT person.

For the right reasons.

Annnnnddd…eye roll, please! I know, you’re totally rolling your eyes right now. Well, fuck off, and stop it! Be supportive! Because this time, it’s different. It is! I am falling for my very best friend. Sigh. And let me just tell you, it hasn’t been easy. It was touch-and-go for a while here…

But I’ve definitely picked a good one!

He isn’t the richest in the city.

He doesn’t have a fancy car. Or the biggest house. He has no plane, or boat. He isn’t part of the “Charlotte In-Crowd”.  He doesn’t care where we go on Saturday night, or what party all the “cool people” will be at. And he sure as shit doesn’t care what brand of shoes I’m wearing. He doesn’t buy flashy shit, ok? But holy fuck is he funny. He is so funny…in fact, I’m smiling while I’m typing. Just thinking about the hysterical banter we have. The amazing connection…and the stupid shit we say. The way he makes me laugh; how my stomach hurts after just five minutes of lying around, and talking. How huge my smile gets when he walks into the room. Ya, can’t buy that shit.

But it’s worth a million dollars, right?

Look, we met last year. We went on a couple of dates, when I was in a different place. My head was messed up, and I chose wrong. I chose the doctor with the dough. I admit it! I fucked up. The first step is admitting. And I admit, I made a huge mistake! I went for the guy that I thought would make me happy. He was rich, he had the car…and the fancy job. He had the expensive watch, and vacationed all over the world. But he was a dick. A big fat dick. And he wasn’t funny, or kind. He didn’t make me smile. He didn’t even like me. Or treat me with respect. And he never told me I was smart, or pretty. I chose WRONG. And pushed Mr. Funny away. But he let me go, because he is solid. And he only wanted me to be happy. He told me to go to Dr. DoucheBag…

So I did.

But we stayed friends. Mr. Funny, and Me. Good friends. I got lucky, he still wants to be in my life. For all this time…he watched as Dr. Douchebag broke my heart, and then the prick-pilot that chose the flappy-vagina. And then there was the psycho-stalker from Tampa. Oh, and how can we forget the pathological liar from Christmas that had me baking banana bread for days!? Yikes. I was a hot mess, but Mr. Funny was by my side through it all. My friend. Such a great friend…as he listened, and gave me advice. I cried to him, and he told me to “slow my roll”. Slow my roll, how funny.

And then somewhere in the midst of it all, two things happened:

  1. He broke up with his girlfriend.

  2. I fixed him up with a friend of mine, and got kinda jelly.

Ok, maybe number two had a little more to it, but we don’t have all night. I guess we just came to realize that there might be something worth exploring. I mean, did we have chemistry? Would we actually be able to have sex, and kiss…and stuff? And the answer is a resounding HELLS YA. And Mr. Funny is not only funny…He’s sexy AF! AS FUCK. He rocks my world. And he’s smart. And he opens my doors, and he’s a great dad. And I am ME around him.


I’m me. I’m crazy, nutty…Jennifer, and he still thinks I’m funny. Not as funny as him, of course. But he wants me to keep doing exactly what I’m doing, without changing a single thing. Which is music to my ears. I feel safe, and I’m starting to trust again. I’m in-like with my best friend, which doesn’t happen very often. I mean, shit. It never happens! We may live 20 miles apart, and have different kid schedules…but who cares? We just work. And look, I’m all growed-up. #biggirlpanties

And it only took me twenty-plus years of relationships to figure it out.

Mr. Funny and Me. Ok, maybe not the most original of names, but I’m hoping he’ll think it’s well….kinda funny. 😉

xo jh

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