The Jules Rules

It's not me, it's you. Have you ever had an interaction with a man that was so absurd you briefly wondered if you were being pranked? Same. I used to think my dating experiences were isolated, and I was somehow cherry-picking crazies out of a crowd, until I decided to conduct an experiment.  QUESTION:  Am I romantically doomed, or is modern dating just that bad ? RESEARCH:  I happen to have direct access to a group of the kindest, funniest, smartest, sexiest girls on earth. So, as any good scientist would, I dropped a shared note into the group chat and asked them to document the most unhinged things they've experienced while dating in the modern age.  The findings were... extensive. The resulting data set reads like a novel-length compilation of horrifying, hilarious, semi-legal, and entirely baffling behavior. For the sake of public consumption, I whittled it down to the stories that best represent the lunacy that is dating in 2026.  REPORT:  Data Set #1:...

  Do guardian angels typically fix dishwashers? Moving to Key West was a leap of faith. As a neurotically extroverted social planner, my biggest concern was, naturally: What if I don't make any friends? That worry was short-lived.  My first priority upon moving into my condo was, obviously, acquainting myself with the pool. I put on my 333 suit, grabbed a towel and my book, and prepared for five hours of uninterrupted zen. Instead, I was met with the smiling face of the condo's 70 year old groundskeeper, Lou, who was pulling up a chair next to mine. There was no small talk, no polite distance. We went straight to the meat, the potatoes, and the meaning of life.  That conversation became the first of many, and just like that, I had gained my first friend on the island. I'll admit that I've always been prone to odd friendships. Many of my friends are at least double my age, and strangers have a curious tendency to tell me their secrets. But there's something about Lou...

Is it mood lighting or is my kitchen on fire? Yesterday was traumatizing . I woke up in unusual darkness (yes, even for my windowless room) drenched in sweat, phone dead, alarm missed. My condo had no power. The front desk lady yelled at me; I cried. I got dressed in the dark (ugly fit, confirmed), drove to work still crying, and found… no parking! Ended up in a termite-infested coworking space with broken Wi-Fi, so I took meetings on my phone. By lunch I was starving, went to Publix, and bought a $11 salad - surprise! It was couscous. I’m allergic to gluten. Stayed late to cover a side gig I don’t even have time for. Got scolded, almost fired. Cried again. A friend of a friend offered their empty house as refuge. I brought rice. Their microwave didn’t work. I went to bed hungry, tired, and overwhelmed - and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, a friend called with more bad news. Queue the "Will I ever be good enough?" spiral. I cried myself to sleep.  The melodramati...

PSA: Ghosting sucks, but it's not going away anytime soon. When it comes to ghosting, nobody is entirely blameless. That guy from the bar ghosted you. You ghosted someone from hinge. I ghosted this blog for a month (I went on vacation, let me live). But, for the sake of the fans, I spent my sabbatical building a case file on all things ghosting. In the court of dating, there are misdemeanors - late replies, bad vibes - and then there are felonies. Ghosting after real emotional or physical connection? That’s life without parole. And yes, men seem to specialize in it.  I've been a victim of this crime more times than I'd care to admit, but my repeated exposure has allowed me to recognize a pattern. Every time I'm out with a guy and I think to myself, "Wow, he actually seems normal," he vanishes like he's in the witness protection program. I'm talking crazy chemistry, great conversation, same vibes, and then...poof.  Just a month ago, I matched with this ...

I turn 22 tomorrow and I have no idea what I'm going to do with the rest of my life ... but I know how I'm gonna live it. Do you ever feel like you've been dropped into the plot of a novel written by someone who gets off on excel spreadsheets and listens exclusively to royalty-free violin covers?  When I find myself slipping into this ever-familiar pit of tedium, I often think back on something one of my sisters said: "If you were reading a book, and the main character was you, what would you want her to do?" Close your eyes and think of your favorite book character. Got it? Great. Now imagine how dull their story would be if they were too scared to buckle up and LIVE. If Jo March married for money, Elle Woods worked in retail,  Tris went abnegation,   if Belly chose  ✨ summer ✨ over Conrad or Jeremiah . It's a horrifying thought, and these are fictional characters! As the one and only author of your own life, you need to start holding yourself to the same sta...

What  happens when a year of soul-crushing depression suddenly turns into a one-way ticket to Key West? Picture this: your life is everything you want it to be and more. You're a junior studying Film/Media at Florida State University. You get drunk at frat parties, make oddly controversial short films with your friends, and run the main university social pages for $14.50/hour (which doesn't matter, seeing as your parents foot most of your bills). Your apartment is massive, with a balcony overlooking the hottest bars in town. Absolutely nothing can slow you down.  Except a 65 year old college advisor named Jim Old.  I actually quite liked Jim. Our sessions would often go well over the allotted 1 hour of time as we discussed my future, hopes, and dreams. On this particular occasion, though, I wanted to punch him in the neck. It went something like this: Jim Old: "You're out of classes to take. You should graduate early." Me: "Okay absolutely n...