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<editorsnote> Hi, I'm Jen Friel, and we here at TNTML examine the lives of nerds outside of the basements and into the social media, and dating world.  We have over 75 peeps that write about their life in real time. (Real nerds, real time, real deal.) Sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the stories!! </editorsnote>

 

 

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Entries in Brian (3)

Friday
Feb042011

My husband = #AMAZEBALLS

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @JenSquard

Aaaah, Brian.  This guy is something special, I’m not even joking.  Things have been a little funky at our house the last couple of weeks.  Everything is totally fine, we just haven’t gotten tons of chances to connect.  I have been putting every spare moment into rebuilding my site and changing content and fixing links and so on, and he has been spending all of his spare moments fixing the things I break on the site, and going through the backend and figuring out why things are being so insanely uncooperative.  

On top of that I had to cut him off from the sexing.  I hate hate hate to have to do that, but that is THE ONLY thing that will motivate him.  Seriously, that is it.  We have been in the process of remodeling our garage into a master bedroom for almost a year now.  It was supposed to be livable by the time Cadence was born...but now she is 7 months and it isn’t even wired.  The only time he works on it is when his brother or parents come over and help, and they live way far away, so it’s only happened a few times.  So he has hit a dry patch until our next inspection.  Sucky, but he is working on it for the first time ever.  

But he has been sooooo great these last couple of weeks.  Totally supportive of me in everything I try to do.  He built my wedding expo wall, and got my subdomain pointing in the right direction, even when GoDaddy said it couldn’t be done.  And and and and he bought us tickets to see Norm MacDonald tonight!  YESSSSSSS!  He’s been staying up late every single night working on stuff, and coming home from work early when I need him to.  

And this is what I found when I went to bed last night:


So Brian, your dry spell is over.  For a minute.  Then it’s right back to it, mister.  But live it up, man, this is your time to shine!

Monday
Jan102011

The love of my life #cheated on me...sort of: Part 2

 

#TalkNerdyToMeLover’s @JenSquard

Find Part 1 here, you really should read it first.  Okay, so deep breath, here we go.  After we called home to break things off, I was thinking holy crap, this is happening!  I just made the biggest life change, and all after knowing this dood for two weeks.  But I honestly never had any doubts.  I enjoyed my time with him so much that I never thought about what we would do in Ecuador in the middle of a very isolated cloud forest if we were to change our minds.  That’s really the only way to live life, just feel it, do it, and worry about things as they happen.  And oh, do things happen.

Everything went great for the first couple of weeks in our new research station.  We spent tons of time in the forest exploring, and tons of time...well...exploring other things.  He made me laugh constantly, I felt sexy and alive with him.  We talked a little bit about our exes, but not tons.  The first time we ventured in to the next city over, about an hour’s bus ride away, we found the phone company and started making calls home.  I talked to my mom, which was the first time I had in a few weeks.  I explained what was going on, and she just acknowledged the fact that I’m insane, but happiness is happiness.  We got done with our calls at about the same time, but he didn’t look impressed.  He said, “I talked to Tara (the ex).  She’s pregnant.”  Now, before we get into emotions, I don’t know why he called Tara.  He said his parents didn’t answer, so he called her.  To this day I’m not convinced that he broke up with her in that first phone call. 

Anyways, what do you even say to that?  My entire chest just fell out of my body and hit the ground.  I couldn’t breathe, and I sure as hell couldn’t talk.  I didn’t feel like I had the right to ask any questions - we were sooo new, and they had history.  We shed a couple of tears together, and I asked what he was going to do.  He said stay with her, what else can I do?  Even writing this just takes me down to nothing.  I had said goodbye to my life for this man.  I had three more months in incredibly tight quarters with this man.  I was drowning. 

I spent the next several days at a different reserve, just trying to regroup and get my mind around things.  I wrote and wrote and wrote, hoping it would give me some clarity.  I spent all of my time alone, earbuds in and Christina Aguilera cranked up.  I wandered aimlessly through amazing scenery, catching some of the world’s most beautiful and rare butterflies, and none of it could bring me present.  I didn’t think she was pregnant.  She is a small town girl, and they are notorious for faking pregnancies to get boyfriends back.  I hated her so much for that, but of course I didn’t know for sure.  I just assumed.  And I hated him for staying with her.  Yeah, that’s the “right” thing to do.  Whatever, follow society’s rules, I guess if that’s what makes you happy. 

When I finally got back to my regular housing, things were weird for a while.  I told him I was fine with it, and would support him in whatever he wanted to do.  I lied.  I still loved him fiercly, and wasn’t going to just forget that.  Slowly things got back to us.  He obviously still had major feelings for me, and eventually we reconnected.  It was so perfect and so naughty, which makes it so much more intense.  Things seemed to be back on track, but he wasn’t able to make any decisions about what he wanted to do.  We headed back into town, and as soon as we got there he told me he was going to be with her.  I got to sit back and watch him shut me out, call her, send her flowers, and become a different person.  This back and forth happened a lot.  In the big city he was hers.  In the jungle he was mine.  He told me he would tell her about me, but I didn’t believe him.  He would tell me he made a choice, then change his mind when we got to town.  I saw him email her things like “I’ll always love you.”  What the fuck, man? 

I’m not one of those girls that gets jerked around, either.  I don’t tolerate bullshit like that,  and I have never just given a pass in a situation like this.  I’m awesome and I have a ton to offer, so if you aren’t going to jump on board, definitely your loss.  But this guy, I couldn’t shake him.  I couldn’t move on.  I very very clearly could see a future with him, I could see so much potential...I saw the man he could be, and the woman he could make me be.  So it went back and forth, he was with me, he was with her.  It hurt so bad, and I would get sooo mad at him for playing these games.  I remember slapping him straight across the face in the middle of a city block, and all of the Ecuadorian men in the area staring at me in shock.  But he was killing me!

At the end of summer, we decided to go to the coast and check out the ocean (which I had never seen before).  He paid my way, I took care of him when he got super sick on the way there, and we had an amazing time.  That week was awesome - and he said he was finally ready to commit to me.  He was going to end things with her, and we were going to go home and be together.  Elated isn’t even a strong enough word to describe things.  Perfection. 

I have a vidid memory of riding in a cab on the way to the airport, and mentioning her pregnancy.  He gave me a strange look, but said we would figure things out when we had to.  We got home a week before my birthday.  We spent the first couple of days with our families, then he headed off to his parent’s house in the town he and Tara were from, and I headed to the town we both lived in.  We talked on the phone a lot, and he told me he couldn’t wait to come home and see me.  The day of my birthday came, and he said he wasn’t going to be able to make it down to see me, but the next day for sure.  I told him I loved him, he said he did too, and we made plans to see each other. 

The next day we talked when he was on his way home.  I told him to just swing by my mom’s and pick me up on the way to his house, it was right on the way.  He gave me some strange excuse about going to his house first, then getting me later.  It was weird, but whatever.  I put together a little gift for him and waited to hear from him.  I didn’t.  I called and called.  And called.  I left message after message.  I finally said, fine, I’m coming over.  That’s when I got a response.  We talked, and I said, “She’s there, isn’t she?”  “Yes.”  “Did you sleep with her?”  “Yes.”

Ooooh, things got heated at that point.  My temper...not good.  I slammed the phone down so hard I broke it.  I told my mom what was going on, and she tried to get me to calm down and not do anything crazy, but I got the temper from her, so it wasn’t working.  I was shaking.  I’m shaking right now just remembering. 

I went over there, noticed a bunch of her stuff in his car, went inside, and started letting him have it.  What the fuck is your problem?  You are so worthless, and I don’t understand how you can keep doing something like this!  Seriously, I don’t get it.  Why did you lie?  Man up and tell me.  It was after I punched him that she came out.  First of all, not cute.  She told me I needed to back off.  Not smart.  She saw the crazy flash across my face, and I’m sure I said something along the lines of hush it up if you don’t want to get smacked.  She did.  I showed him the gift I put together for him, and told him that if she wasn’t pregnant I would punch her right in the face, too.  I left, and he slammed the door behind me.  The sound of that door slamming is something that I will never forget.

I sat in my car and cooled down a bit.  I left him a note saying to call me when he’s done being an idiot.  We talked later, and I went over there to sort through our pictures.  He started doing the back and forth thing again, and I let him.  Again.  I can’t tell you why.  I can’t even begin to explain why I would put myself in that situation and not move on.  It’s crazy, and looking back on it, I don’t get it.  I just knew what we were supposed to be, and wasn’t willing to let go of that.  It turns out she wasn’t pregnant anymore, so that’s a plus. 

Eventually her crazy got to be too much, so he broke it off with her.  If this was the end of the story, it wouldn’t be as bad.  What kills me, and really really hurts, is that he knew she wasn’t pregnant from the beginning.  He thought she was for a couple of weeks, but found out she just “thought” she was pregnant.  He used it as an easy out with me.  He was too scared to make the major life change that I was so willing to do for him.  Even though he felt the same, and could see the future that I could see, he wasn’t strong enough to fight for it like I was.  He held on to that as an excuse to leave me if something didn’t go right.  And the pain of that is still WAY intense, and that was 6 1/2 years ago.  I’m not convinced that the hurt of the betrayals, lies and having sex with someone else on my birthday will ever go away. 

On a happier note, things did get better.  I was so right about us, and I’m really glad that I stuck with things.  We got married a couple of years later, and now have three awesome kids.  There are still bad days when I just hate him for everything we went through, and how hard I had to fight.  But dwelling on it definitely doesn’t take it back.  He's an excellent husband, better than any I know, and a great father.  So all the hard work, heartbreak and gallons of tears were worth it.  I have never fully told this story to anyone.  Brian is amazing, and I have never wanted anyone to think differently of him, but I'm letting go of all of that now.  *deep breaths....in....out....in.....out...*

Tell me what you thought of this story on Twitter: @JenSquard

 

Wednesday
Dec012010

The #Perfect Man...#wedding not so much

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @JenSquard

Since we are done having babies (which is insanely hard on a marriage), my hubbard, Brian, and I have been closer than ever.  We got married a little over 4 years ago, and I would marry him again in a second.  Anyways, we have had such an amazing month together, I remembered this story that I wrote to a local newspaper.  This story was my gift to him that year (plus it won us a free dinner at the most expensive yummiest place in town!), as I wanted him to never forget that I know he's awesomesauce in all the right ways. 

Just like every other bride, I spent the months leading up to my wedding planning and preparing, perfecting every little detail.  I wanted a beautiful wedding, but also a unique experience that really showed our personalities.  I handmade everything, our save-the-dates showed us holding signs with the info, our invitations were puzzles to be put together by the invitee, even our candles were all homemade.  I chose the perfect date and time, late in August, at sunset, a time of year known for beautiful weather and sunsets in Western Colorado.  I picked a wonderful location, the amphitheater behind the Botanical Gardens.  I set the stage for an event that no one would ever forget.  Personalized matches for our guests to light sparklers during our first kiss were bought.  In case it got warm, elegant colorful fans would serve as our programs, and our favorite drinks, iced tea and lemonade would cool everyone down.  Our favorite songs were chosen to play at the ceremony, and our favorite people were chosen to stand beside us at the alter.  Absolutely everything was in place, I was ready for the happiest day of my life.

The big day rolled around, and we set off on our own paths to prepare.  I met up with my girls to get beautiful, and my fiancé finished decorating the reception hall.  Three o’clock came, and it started raining.  “Don’t worry, Mom, it’ll clear.  It’s August, it never rains at sunset.”  And so it stopped raining.  Perfect day back on track.  Time was flying, and I arrived at the ceremony site to get dressed in a special tent set up on the lawn that I would be walking out of, directly onto the aisle.  It looked beautiful, the chairs were in perfect rows, but there were no sides on my tent.  Now I’m not a shy girl, but I’m not ready to put on my gown with everyone watching.  So I waited.  The rental company finally found and brought the sides, but they were the wrong sides.  So I waited more.  In my truck, in the parking lot.  About thirty minutes before the ceremony was supposed to begin they got the correct sides, and I snuck past the torrents of guests to get into my tent and into my gown.  Problem solved.

I got into my gown, we all giggled, the nerves explode, but things were perfect.  Until I felt a drop on my head.  It’s raining, no, pouring, and the tent is leaking.  Goodbye sunset, hello black sky.  Perfect.  The music starts, and the girls leave the tent to walk down the aisle.  “At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are …over-ooovverererer.”  Seriously?  Nice job DJ, can we get it together?  The song stops skipping, and my song starts.  I unzip the tent, step onto the blanket of rose petals, take my first step forward, and get yanked back.  My veil is stuck in the zipper!  I am alone, dangling there, with a hundred of my closest friends and family turning their freezing, soaked faces to see my plight.  After a few minutes of embarrassed struggling, my veil ripped from my hair, and I continued on my way.  

Fast forward through the monsoon ripping the top off of our arch, and all of the handmade candles getting waterlogged, and we are ready for our first kiss as husband and wife.  The guests desperately try to light their sparklers, but no such luck – they, too, are waterlogged.  As I watch them struggling, I notice that they are using my beautiful programs as rain shields!  My heart was breaking as I remembered spending weeks making those.  With a background of three lit sparklers, we kissed.  Who needs fireworks?  Being a hopeless romantic, he turned to dip me, slipped on the wet concrete, and nearly dropped me off the edge of the stage!  Is there anything else that could go wrong?  No, it stopped raining, everyone is cheering, and someone even brought me my veil.  We are good, right?  Not so much.  Once the rain stopped, the mosquitoes came out and feasted on all of my exposed flesh, my favorite bite being the one between my eyes, swelling up and making me look like a Neanderthal.  Beautiful.

Finally we got into our limo, and after all of that time showing my grace and laughing it off, I broke down.  Why did I spend so much time making everything perfect?  What was the point?  As I cried onto my new husband’s shoulder, he took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, “Sugar, we’re married.  You just made me the happiest man in the world, no matter how things went.  Anyways, no one will ever forget a wedding like that!”

So after all the choices – the perfect date, the perfect time, the perfect gown, the perfect everything, it turns out only one choice mattered – the perfect man.  

 

Thoughts?  Questions?  Concerns?  High Fives?  Direct them to twitter.com/jensquard