#ThatAwkwardMomentWhen: You discover the hard way that nobody messes with the Jesus

oh goodness do I love this movie, and it's not only one of my favorite quotes from it BUT completely describes my day. As usual, I thought I had a plan, but life took over and well ... I'm kinda glad it did. 

Here's the song that goes with the post ... 

The dating detox I did in January truly turned out to be a turning point. I finally stopped serial dating, and finally stopped "seeking." I've been so focused for so long on GENUINELY looking for someone that I needed to just slow my roll and figure out what I had to offer a dude. Sure, I gotz the big ol' noggin that serves a purpose, and major major cred in LA for being known on the interwebz but that's all professional. I complained that dudes wanted me just so I'd give them advice on their businesses, but was I happy with my appearance? Was I taking care of myself emotionally, physically, and loving to myself? 

The answer of course to all of the above was no. I then gave myself a series of "next doable actions" since in zen they give you something to do solely so you focus so much on it that it gives room for the spirit to move in and help get the message through. 

I finished the detox and fortunately wound up getting very busy with work. If I allow myself, I could very honestly work every second of every day. Between writing, running the business behind the scenes, meetings in general, and other projects I am now involved in, I have ZERO problem occupying my time. The problem that I learned with that though last year, is that I will never be fulfilled as a person until I find balance. I can't just feel successful as a person without understanding who I was at my core. 

My core nags me on a semi-regular basis that I need to "settle down." Like I've said, I have a few more professional goals, but the MAJORITY of my 5 year plan is all about finding my partner in crime and popping out however many babies I can from my belly. It's strange that even a few years ago, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have kids. Yes, I was a nanny, worked at a day camp growing up, and a day care (kids LOVE me) but I just assumed I was more of a business person than family chica. I thought maternal instincts were TOTAL bullshit, but mark.my.word. you get to your later 20s and your womb starts SHOUTING at you on an animalistic level ... GIVE ME BABYYYYY!!! You know you want it!!!!!! My friends make fun of me for cooing at kids when I see them on the street. 

Really? Again Jen, they say. 

Oh evolution, you are quite awesome. 

The only problem with getting to "that" place is that it's something that I can't control. I've dated half of Los Angeles and became extremely aware, but even turning it into a numbers game didn't work. My only option was to focus on the detox and focus on self. Knowing that inner child work was going to be part of that package, I was a bit hesitant. 

Knowing that my life depended on it though, I decided to focus and just figure this the fuck out. 

Yes, I'm scared. 

Yes, this is going to be uncomfortable. 

But LIKE ENERGY ATTRACTS!!!! How was I ever going to meet what I would label "a good guy" (I have extremely high standards) until I became whole myself. 

The process over the last few weeks has been maddening. I catch myself crying randomly all over the place as I am feeling vulnerable for the first time in my adult life. Being vulnerable as a child taught me that I was going to be attacked either verbally or physically. I quickly learned to compartmentalize all of my emotions to appear "stronger" than whomever came at me, and even learned how to box when I was being stalked physically. (Hence also why I didn't even bat an eye at pulling the knife on that dude when he broke into my parent's condo. You just "know" how to be prepared.) 

I say all of that to sound tough, but I was scared shitless. I was a very very scared child. Scared of my own shadow, scared of literally anyone that got close to me (since it was friends, family, and even the family doctor) that harmed me. It was a learned behavior to stop being so shy and become acquaintances with as many people as I could to appease the extrovert inside of me. (Sound familiar with what I did with this brand? COPING MECHANISM!!) 

To allow myself now, at 28, to be INSANELY authentic and ARTICULATE everything that I want is ... insane. I don't know how to do this!!! I'm very very good at doing it in business, but in my personal life? I go from working to working out to passing out. That's my life and that's what I do. To now talk to friends, and I mean ... really .... talk to my friends about things is a jolt to my system.

I feel so awkward now relishing in all this honesty. My instincts have taught me that the second I feel exposed to just hide, and that's no longer an option. 

I'm here. I'm present. And I'm ready for more. 

Saturday night, I went out to Silverlake for The Modern Day Shaman's birthday. 

I'm always SO thankful when I get to spend time with him, and even MORE thankful for all the incredible work he has helped me through. 

He didn't bat an eye at reaching out to me after he read the 103 dates in 9 months two years ago. We spent a year working together, and I genuinely, genuinely, wouldn't be the person I am today if it hadn't been for him. 

Big fan ... huge fan of his, and will embrace the karma credits knowing that I will make sure he is taken care of BIG time in the near future. 

I met all of his friends, whom were quite lovely, but by 12 was exhausted and ready to head back home. 

I went back to the valet to get my car, and the guy I handed the card to asked me if I was married. 

Are you with someone, he asked candidly? 

Yes, I said I have friends here. 

No, he quickly replied back. I mean, are you married? 

I shook my head no saying I am focusing on self. 

Self? he said. So you're single? 

Yes, I replied back. 

He then ran to get my beetle and came back opening my door. 

I want to marry you, he said pretending to get down on one knee. 

I gave him a few extra dollars as a tip and thanked him for the smile. 

I closed my door and laughed. I get proposed to randomly on the street at LEAST once every few weeks now. I'm no DOUBT sending out "that energy" but I still need to focus on more of what I offer to the equation. 

Like any relationship, partnership, merging of any kind ... it's never going to fix you. I do KNOW that relationships can help you become a better person, but you have to understand what your value is and also be whole yourself. 

No man should EVER complete you, but they should compliment you.

The part in all of this that frustrates me however, is understanding when all of this is done. There's a Japanese proverb that I've always responded to saying, "before enlightenment chop wood carry water, after enlightenment chop wood carry water." You can know everything and nothing and you STILL have to go through the day to day. 

The only thing that I think makes sense in this process is understanding that while you are on the path, if your intentions are genuinely true of course, you may find someone. Love is SUUUCCHHHH a beautiful thing, and works in CRAZY AWESOME ways ... and I have to have to have to believe all of this is going to be worth it someday. It already has meant the WORLD to me, but when does someone come along to share it with? 

I came home and went to bed, deciding to sleep in until almost noon. My sleep was interrupted ALL last night with this strange excitement and anticipation that this vulnerability and authenticity was "actually" a good thing. 

I'm becoming a much more warmer person, I thought. I'm reverting back to who I am at my core and that loving little girl that fed ducks, drove her boat, picked blueberries, and wrote until her hand hurt in her journal. 

I finally dragged myself out of bed and started up my Macbook Pro Retina. 

While I waited I updated my Facebook status ... 

<tangent> I've never been a religious person. I've ALWAYS been spiritual and always felt "connected" in that regard, but when it comes to organized religion? I've never bought into it. In fact, I vividly remember being 7 and asking my parents who wrote the bible?

What do you mean who wrote the bible? asked my parents. 

Who wrote it? Like wrote it wrote it? I pressed. 

God wrote the bible, said my father. 

But god lives up there, I said pointing to the clouds. How did we get it here? 

Well, he said, it's the word of god spoken through man. 

Kinda grasping what he was saying, I continued, so it's like the game of Telephone? 

21 years later and my parents still don't have an answer to that question. They've actually stopped going to church as well, but it just never made sense to me. I have NOOOOO problem with anyone that believes in it - in fact, more power to ya!! If you have something you believe in, and something that makes sense to you, AWESOME!!! For me though, it's always been an energetic thing. Never structured. </tangent> 

I then went back to my computer, sitting down at my desk. 

AHH, I said, ready to spend the day writing finishing up my book proposal. 

As I entered in my password, I noticed the computer freezing slightly. 

Before the thought fully processed though, this grey screen populated telling me the computer needed to reset. 

Weird, I thought, but I gave it some breathing room deciding to grab a glass of diet coke while I waited.

I came back to the computer and saw that it had shut down. 

I tried to reboot it and instead of it starting up I heard 3 really loud beeps. 

NOOOOOOO!!!!! I thought, not thinking but KNOWING this was not good. 

I then waited for the battery to fully drain and reached out to some of my tech peeps. 

I had done my own google research, of course, but it seemed indicative of it being a RAM issue, and my macbook retina is the new one that has everything soddered in. Even if that is the problem, I'm kinda fucked. 

I laughed thinking back to my Facebook status. 

I guess zombie Jesus heard me and didn't like what I had to say. 

Zombie Jesus: 1 Jen Friel: 0 

After being unsuccessful at reaching some friends, I decided to just find an open mac shop in Hollywood and figure it out for myself. 

I took it to one on Santa Monica, and was instructed to just take it into the Apple store. 

It's under warranty he said, if we touch it it could void that.

No problemo! I said getting back in my car and driving over to the Grove. 

I knew at this point it was going to be a polarizing situation. Either The Grove was going to be dead because of Easter Sunday, or INSANELY busy. 

Guess which one it was?!??! 

My love of crowds caused a lot of anxiety, but I sucked it up finally getting to the Genius Bar. 

Do you have an appointment? Asked the guy. 

No, I said. This emergency just occurred and I wanted to press my luck. 

He then told me they were slammed but if I came back around 4 he might be able to get someone to see me. 

GREAT, I said. Thanks so so much!!! 

I then left the Apple store, looking down at my watch and realizing I have an hour to kill. 

To further the "self love," I decided to pick up another pair of jeans. 

I bought some from MadeWell last month and they are AMAZING!!!! See, I have a booty and long legs. It's not always easy to find a pair of jeans for someone like me. 

I walk into the denim bar (so many "bars" in Los Angeles!!) in the back, and spot the pair I wanted. 

YES!! I thought holding them up. 

The price tag wasn't too great, but again, self care and I NEVVEERR buy things for myself. Everything is ALWAYS a sponsorship so to say yes, I want this, was a loving gesture to myself. I work hard damnit, I need to ENJOY myself. 

I step over to the right and almost hit the woman in front of me. 

She then turns around and I notice it's Tegan from Tegan and Sara. 

I'm a huge ... HUGE ... HUUUGGGEEEEEEEE Tegan and Sara fan. 

Closer is not only one of my favorite songs, but has genuinely helped me through this "new chapter" I've been experiencing this past year. 

I even have a new chapter playlist on spotify FTR!!! 

In LA you see celebs morning, noon, and night while I GREATLY respect people's privacy to see one of your FAVORITE artists IN PERSON ... RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU ... WHILE their song is your ABSOLLUUTTEEE favorite is a super powerful thing. 

Trying to keep cool, but express excitement, I walked over. 

I whisper to not draw attention ... 

I just wanted to say I'm a very big fan and looking forward to Coachella very much. 

<tangent> Tegan and Sara are performing at Coachella and JBL was AMAZINNNGGGGG enough to offer up not only this INSANE VIP experience but tickets to the show, hotel, private parties ... BEYOND amazing. I'm insanely, insanely grateful and TEGAN AND SARA ARE WHO I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOST!!! </tangent> 

She smiled graciously, as she said thanks so much for listening. 

Her kindness made me love her even more, and made me want to put her in my pocket THAT MUCH MORE, only I couldn't because that's called kidnapping. 

Stupid laws. 

Whatever. 

I wound up not getting the jeans since they didn't have the wash that I wanted, but my inner child was quite pleased not only having been listened to, but because I got to FREAAKKKK OUTTTTT on the inside about seeing someone I'm so INSANELY obsessed with!!! 

I then went back to the Genius Bar sometime later, and found out that my baby needed to stay overnight for a repair. 

It's the logic board, he said.

Will she be okay, I asked genuinely concerned. 

3-5 days he said, asking me to fill out the acceptance of Apple Care's coverage on his iPhone. 

You know, it's funny, I say. An hour before this went caput I posted on Facebook and tweeted that Jesus should have known it's pics or it didn't happen. Zombie Jesus: 1 Me: 0. 

I looked up feeling proud of my insanely weird humor. He looked back disgusted, non-emotional, and overall ... unamused. 

3-5 days. Do you need validation? 

Yes, I thought and not because of the parking, but rather for my humor. 

Not even a SMIRK?!?! Pretend smile?!?! SOMETHING!?!?!? 

Fail, Friel. Fail. 

I then went home and popped on over to a spin class. 

I bumped into my buddy Christy (who had texted me prior asking which class I was going to. Christy was the one that got me such a great deal at my gym in general. She knew a dude who gave me a rate and ... yeah). 

I had seen Christy the day before, but had only caught up with what she had been up to. It was now my turn. 

Besides spinning, she said, which you are clearly very passionate about - what's been going on? 

I'm great! I said. I'm at a place where I'm wondering now what's next. 

What do you mean? she asked. 

I'm good at what I do, but it's not who I am. I want to get married and I want to pop babies out of my belly. That's why I spin so much. Less to do with the activity more to do with the disconnect it provides. 

I get it, she said. 

I then told her about the charity I am working with and how I want to devote a certain amount of my time moving forward to philanthropic ventures. 

Outside of finishing my book, and whatever they need from me on the TV side of things - I'm good. I can build things, connect people, and make money. But what does it all mean at the end of the day? What am I REALLY doing? 

Class was then interrupted by one of the managers saying that they apologize but they thought they had cancelled the class. 

Due to the holiday, we assumed this class would be cancelled. We apologize for the inconvenience and can offer everyone a coupon to the Asian buffet place, he said very very excited. 

Christy laughed, that's pretty much the opposite of a thousand calorie workout. 

I laughed agreeing, asking her if she wanted to grab a coffee. 

No, I'm good she said. Just going to go for a quick hike. 

We then high fived as I bopped back home grateful for the extra hour and a half. 

Furthering the self care, I then did laundry, cleaned my room, and took care of things I claim "I have no time for." 

I have only my backup computer (which is a macbook and not my SUPER PRETTY MACBOOK PRO RETINA!!!), phone battery is almost dead. I guess I did get a tech disconnect today. 

I then made myself my favorite dinner from childhood, and waited for my buddy Hermione to come over to discuss a proposal we are presenting tomorrow. 

As she sat down on the couch a few hours later, we first caught up on personal sch-tuff. 

I want to settle down, I told her. I've been over this for almost a year, but now I'm like BEYOND over it. It doesn't feed my soul the same way it used to. 

She understood, as she is in a similar position. We are equally insane, and equally enjoy having the MOST amount of fun in ANY moment at ANY time. 

<tangent> Hermione was also the chickadee that was in Branson's hot tub which caused the break up of Harry Styles and Taylor Swift "allegedly." 

Despite what may be read about her via a google search she is an EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY great girl, OFF THE CHARTS smart, and a VERY hard worker. You have to be very prudent who you work with in tech as everything is a very small world, and your reputation is everything - this girl knows her shit AND has a fun time doing it!! 

Wait, that was kinda gross. K, moving on ... 

</tangent>

She then told me that not only did IVF go up to the HIGHEST it has ever been financially, but the number one consumer is late 30s white, educated women. 

My 10 year plan (if my 5 year extends without my intended personal goal) is to get IVF. It is ABSOLUTELY without a doubt that now based on not only my own brand building, but other companies I have invested interest in - I am going to be extremely set financially for however long. (And if I can budget with $10 to my name for a year, you KNOW I can make this money work for me.) 

I don't want to hustle for my children though. I want to provide them with a safe, abundant, and loving environment. I obviously don't know what that is going to look like just yet, but I am SUPPEERRR confident I will get to the point where I will figure that part out. 

It was amazing, btw to hear not only my friend and business associate say that so honestly, but to know that she meant it. She really wants to have kids, and I do too!! And we're BOTH not afraid to have careers and pursue it while we still can. That's GREAT!!!!!!!! 

I don't know what anything in my life means right now, but I know I am okay with it. I am doing the self work, showing up for my own life, and doing WHATEVER it is going to take to Miyagi the SHIT out my life and figure this all out.

Besides, worst case scenario is that we're all dead in 60 or so years. Might as well go there with a few stories of things I tried versus regrets of missing out on things I really wanted. 

I. 

Want. 

This. 

Time to go and get it. 

=) 

#nerdsunite

#NerdsUnite: An afternoon spent babysitting my inner child

<editorsnote> Hi again mom and dad. Please don't read these posts. It's me processing and has nothing to do with you or our relationship. I appreciate and respect your understanding my boundaries. =) W00t! 143  </editorsnote>

Hi friends. 

This year has been extremely eye opening. I kept thinking over and over for the last three years in launching this brand that if I just got thhhaaatttt much further, or if I was able to get to thiiisssss place I would finally feel "fulfilled" for lack of a better word. Last summer, when I did in fact hit a career high that "further" place became the present moment and I felt like shit. 

I was smacked with the reality that I had to start seeking balance in my life. I had given up too much of myself to this brand, and to the outside world in general at too great of a price. I even built this business around a coping mechanism I had as a child!! Since I didn't have friends growing up, my only option for peer to peer communication was through the internet. I also wrote voraciously every night in my little journals processing all of the things I couldn't understand that were happening around me. I was SO SICK of having everyone "feel sorry" for the way people treated me that you just get to a point where you shut it all off. If I smiled and didn't process the feelings I was rewarded for "being the bigger person."

FTR, a child should NEVER be the bigger person. 

You can't change the cards you are dealt, but you also can't hide from these feelings forever. I'm 28 and even my parents didn't know how much all of this still bothered me and how much it affects almost every relationship I have in life.

I do love my parents very very dearly, but I vehemently disagree with a lot of things that occurred when I was a child. At my age now, my parents had a 6 year old, a 4 year old, and had already been married for 8 years. They were EXTREMELY EXTREMELY loving growing up and outwardly affectionate not only to themselves but to my brother and me, however, they constantly tried to fix something that very honestly was never going to work. I can't say looking back objectively that I would have known what to do either, but as to a child to be picked on by adults that you're biologically related to so RELENTLESSLY is ... unacceptable. Even if my own brother (whom I am extremely close to) spoke ill of my children, or favored one or the other - I wouldn't even bat an eye at creating distance. You. Protect. Children. At. All. Costs. Period end of sentence. I was extremely sheltered as a child physically, but emotionally I spent so much time in a state of confusion. Just because your immediate homebase is loving doesn't mean as a child you are prepared to deal emotionally with less than kind words spoken to you elsewhere. I HATE HATE HATE that domestication calls for children to "respect their elders." I will raise my children to only respect their "elders" if they themselves are being respectful to the children. 

I was put down CONSTANTLY on birthdays/holidays, made fun of at school ... my parents would just say that kids were "jealous" of me, but it was bullshit. I couldn't understand at that age why kids would want to be smart since it only meant you got picked on. I internalized everything which caused an inner monologue that no child should experience. I stressed out all the time trying to fit in, and would manipulate my personality to appease whomever I was around. That of course never works, but it doesn't mean you don't try. I went through 13 years of emotional abuse before my parents finally decided to cut off all contact. Thir.teen.years. By the time everything was said and done, I was already this little adult that learned to flip this switch on the inside and turn a very warm heart extremely cold. Based on my genuine character, I could NEVER harm another soul verbally or physically, but when that switch went on everything just rolled right off of me. I thought I was becoming a "stronger" person, when the reality was just the opposite.

The day of my grandmother's funeral last year was one of the most difficult of my life. I was asked to not attend the services because of the family discord. I still.to.this.day.do.not.agree.with.that.decision. Clearly it is all said and done, but instead of being allowed to process what I was feeling and mourn I was once again asked to be the "bigger person" and think about everyone else.

I reached out to the guy I was dating (and whom I very much fell in love with) as to not be alone, and he informed me that he was with another woman for the entire weekend. 

In my writing I always try to find some humorous twist as to again avoid anyone feeling "sorry" for me, but I can genuinely say that was one of the lowest moments of my life.

I hurt and cried from this place and this ... hole ... that I forgot was there. That hole, of course, isn't really a "hole" it's my inner child.

I've known this emotionally and spiritually for a few months now but going down the "therapy inner child path" made me want to stick forks in my eyes. Having one of my abusers be an extremely acclaimed psychiatrist makes me naturally a bit hesitant to follow anything a shrink has to say, but I have learned to let those walls down and speak from the heart and not the ego. My ego wants me to "be strong," my ego wants me to "get over it," but I can't run anymore. If I don't process this I'm not going to EVER have a healthy relationship, be able to be a good mom, and an authentic person. My LIFE depends on this!!!!!! No buts about it!!! 

I'm over half way through with "The Drama of the Gifted Child." It is the second time I have read it, but the first time things have actually started to sink in. The combination of now spinning every day is centering not only my mind, but my body ... and also allowing all of this "gunk" to finally get stirred up. I cried this morning in spin class. I have no idea over what, or why, but I allowed it to happen. The vulnerability and expression in that moment really moved me. I didn't analyze the tears, or yet again hide behind the guise of intellectualism. Like the book reminds you to do, I just ... felt it. Children don't sit there and question why they experience the impulses or emotions they do, they just express them!! If you're taught to shut all of those off, you begin to deny yourself of not only an authentic life, but it bubbles into depression. 

I have to, have to, have to, get all of this out. Just because I am successful professionally doesn't mean I can hide behind that curtain anymore and pretend like things are always okay. Some days they are, some days they aren't. My job isn't to focus on either, but allow them to all just be.

I am grateful though to all of the loving self care I provide for myself. I've now not only gotten my car back, but am getting my own 1 bedroom apartment with MY OWN THINGS!!! To have been so nomadic and all over the place for so many years, to be laying down roots feels GREAT!!! Dudes, I go to the gym every day to disconnect, and spend an extra hour just enjoying all of the luxuries the spa have to offer.  I've never felt or looked more composed in all of my life. My 5 year plan does have a handful more professional notches I'd like to reach, but the majority of it is all personal. I'd love nothing more than to get married, have my own children, and hopefully be a strong, loving leader to them. It's INSANE btw how much reading that book has sparked so much of my maternal instincts. I very genuinely do picture myself as this child again and being in that state is freeing and also tremendously foreign. 

I'm not sure how much of this entire journey I can document without further perpetuating a coping mechanism, but today feels good. This is authentic, and I am finally listening to this little being inside of me that just wanted SO DESPERATELY to be heard. 

I'm listening Jenny. I'm actually listening. 

#thatisall

Oh yeah and ... 

click the screenshot to comment on Facebook

#ThatAwkwardMomentWhen: You discover you're allergic to body paint ... after it is on

Yo mom and dad - most of these posts for the next ... however long ... are prolly not going to be kosher. This one in particular you're def not going to want to read. 

Don't worry though, I'm still a virgin. K bye. 

Hi friends. 

So, a few weeks back I got invited to Playboy's Masquerade party at the Playboy Mansion. People take a LOT of pictures at Playboy parties, so it got me thinking that this could be a good opportunity for one of my sponsors. 

Since I've been wearing MessageMe shirts for the last month or so ...  

I thought they might be an AWESOME fit for the opportunity. I then hit up one of the founders and sent the most inappropriate email ever ... 

Moments later I got the thumbs up, so all was good in the hood. (And FREAKING CONGRATS on hitting 1 million users this week!! 12 days!!! SO NUTS!!) 

I then spent the afternoon picking out my outfit to go along with the body paint, and once I was settled I went to spin class. 

Spinning is now my COMPLETE disconnect from the universe. It's non-negotiable, I go every day, and I want nothing to do with ANYONE while I am there. It's my thing ... my jam ... my little meditation session that no one else can be a part of. 

Because I still use my iPhone as my music player though a notification or two might sneak in. 

I see an update from Facebook telling me that my password has been changed. 

My ears perked up like Scooby as my mouth vaguely produced Arrrr???? 

I then RAAANNNNNNNNNNN home as fast as my legs could carry me assuming someone was fucking with my account and I needed to isolate whatever it was they were doing. 

I pull up Facebook on my Macbook Pro Retina and see that I've violated their photo policy. 

Someone reported this photo that I had screenshot of SOMEONE ELSE'S default on a dating site. He was dissecting some random cadaver and it was one of the oddest  but coolest things I had seen on any dating site. 

This was MONTHS ago, I thought staring at the acceptance of the policy violation. 

Bastard, whoever reported this. 

Facebook then told me I would not be able to use it's service for the next 72 hours. 

Talk about a universal disconnect for someone like me, I thought. 

Obviously the situation sucked balls all around, but what were my options? I just had to take it like a woah-man. 

It got me thinking though, that for the Playboy party I was going to, I should just privately message photos to users on MessageMe instead of posting on Facebook. They're going to be insanely naughty and I don't know what it is going to be like getting banned twice in a week. The LAST thing I want to do is lose my Facebook account as it is also part of my business. 

Dually noted, I thought. 

Then, on Tuesday I hit the peak of frustration.  

I was super stressed, super edgy, and super ... out of it. Even our trivia team said how tired I looked. Sure, my schedule is kinda nutty right now, but I THRIVE when I live on the edge. Why all of the sudden am I becoming a wreck? I thought. 

I was then reminded of this nagging-ness that I felt surrounding the book The Drama of the Gifted Child. I KNEW the universe was pointing me to read it again, but the acceptance of being back in "that place" was EXTREMELY hard for my ego to process. 

I then stayed up til 4 am writing out this post. 

Normally, the day after I write something like that I get really tired, I want to isolate, and I'm overall just kinda in this weird "zone." What surprised me, was that for the FIRST TIME in at least a few weeks, I finally felt "rested." It was as if this angst and anxiety came straight from my inner child who was just shouting for attention and because I kept saying how busy I was and didn't want to deal with it, it just kept going and going and going. 

My mom called me shortly after she read it, and I kindly told her I didn't want to discuss it with her. 

This has nothing to do with you, I reminded her. I love you, I respect you, but this is for me and for this anger that is still inside of me that I HAVE to let go of. 

I was running to a meeting, so I told her I had to go. While I was in the car though, I cranked up Michael Jackson's Scream and decided to SSSCCRRREEEAMMMMMMMM my little heart out. 

I screamed for the annoyance of having to STILL deal with these emotions. 

I screamed for this inner child that my intellectual brain doesn't want to deal with. 

I screamed for ... me. 

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. I kept saying over and over. 

<tangent> Two best parts about having my car back are 1) being able to scream or sing my heart out with no one listening. 2) drive thrus. Never underestimate the awesomeness of being handed something without you having to get out of your car. </tangent>

Moments later, I was snapped back to reality via a text message from the dude I met in traffic asking me out for a date on Thursday. 

Let's do it, I texted back. 

I had spent almost all week at that point searching for someone to do face/body paint and by Thursday I had found just what I was looking for. 

I've never done this before, I explained to the woman. Do you mind if we test out some of the designs first? It's going to be for a sponsor and I want to make sure it's SUPER classy and not just oh, hey, these are my boobs. 

She started laughing, and said not a problem and I could come right over. 

I then popped on over to her studio, and for a few hours we tested out facial designs in addition to some of the lettering for the shirt. 

This is great, I said to her. It's thicker than I thought and while it shows your shape obvi it's not all BOOBBBBSSS!!! RIGHT HERE!!! BOOOBBBSSSS!!! 

I gave her some money for the cost of her materials and popped back into my car to head back to WeHo for my date. 

Hitting typical LA traffic I got home later than I anticipated. 

FUUUCCKKKK, I thought. I still have to get ready. 

I finally arrived home 10 minutes prior to his scheduled arrival time and I SSCCRRUUUUBBBEEDDDDD that shit off like it was mah job. 

My face feeling slightly raw and potentially still covered in ... something ... was finally makeup friendly and moving out the door to greet my date. 

I then got in his car (the one he was driving when I met him) and started laughing. This looks familiar, I said. 

Same one, he said with his killer smile. 

We then went over to the Arclight to see the movie Spring Breakers. 

I thought the trailer definitely looked interesting, but since I never go to the actual movie theater anymore my opinion past that was sort of moot. 

Since the Showtime app on his iphone got the time wrong, we decided to pop over to grab a drink before the movie at the little cafe they have there. 

As he went up to get me a glass of wine, I noticed my twitter bud Liam sitting in the corner. 

I went up to him saying howdy with a hug and a high five. 

We chatted for a few minutes. It's been years since we've seen each other but because we're friends in social media you have somewhat of an idea what people are up to. 

My date then came back, and I went back to our table. 

Sorry about that, I said pulling out the stool. A twitter bud of mine is over there. 

How did you recognize him? he asked. 

Because we met IRL for the first time at Comic Con a few years back. I let him use my pass. 

He stared at me for a second. 

Then said, that is the hottest thing I've ever heard a girl say. 

I laughed thinking, the dude I met in traffic gets it, but go to a bar and men look at me like I have 70 heads. Being in tech is not a value add to the Hollywood bar scene. 

We then saw the movie, which I'm not quite sure how I felt about it. It was SUPER slow in the beginning. Like crazy, crazy slow ... but I liked the photography, and how ... weird ... it was. 

We chatted in the car all the way back talking about it. 

This might be this next generations Showgirls, I said. 

We continued the discussion, and I shan't talk about anything else discussed. It's that whole intimacy thing I'm working on. Awwww yeah. 

I went to bed pretty early, but was stoked because Friday was going to be the ONLY day this week I could sleep in. My first meeting wasn't until the afternoon, and to have my roomie gone and this ... silence ... is truly spectacular. (ESPECIALLY considering the lack of sleep I have been getting because I wasn't listening to my inner child. Stupid inner child.)

As life would have it though, sweet sweet sleep evaded me once again as instead of swimming in a sea of silence I was jolted from my sleep by the sound of helicopters. 

<tangent> You don't fuck around with helicopters in LA FYI. 9/10 times it's just a bad traffic accident, but you never know when there could be some sort of crazy hostage situation, or the time I threw my dinner party and had the meth lab explode down the street. </tangent> 

I immediately popped on Twitter to check WeHoDaily's twitter feed (the BEST reporting at ANYTHING happening in Weho/ Hollywood. From a traffic blip, to gun shots ... all there.) and saw that Ashley Green's condo had caught fire. 

Not much else had been reported at that time, but the helicopters were DEAFENING. 

As I stepped away from my computer, I went to touch my face and noticed that the sensitive skin around my eyes hurt A LOT. 

Fuck, I thought, as I had difficulty blinking. This shit HURTS!!!! 

I grabbed my iphone and turned on the camera feature to front face and noticed that my eyes were REALLY red. Like dragon lady red. 

NOOOOOOO, I thought. I must be allergic to that face paint. 

I then looked down at my chest where she had placed the body paint. 

All on my neck and right about my boobs was BRIGHT red and splotchy with spotted hives. 

Yep, definitely allergic, I said going over to the mirror for confirmation. 

I took this last night. My chest cleared up faster than my face. 

There goes my career as a stripper for Avatar themed parties, I thought. 

I found out btw, that all you need to do when you have a reaction like this (as long as you're still breathing and obvi not in need of EXTREME medical attention), is wash the affected area, towel blot it, and put on a pea size of cortisone where you need it. 

Because I am a magnet for mosquitos, I happened to have cortisone on me, so it was just an epic win all around. 

I decided to then cancel the body painter, but my brain went into HYPER active mode figuring out what I was going to wear instead. 

I wanted something to stay consistent with their branding while being definitely sexual since it is the Playboy Mansion. 

I rooted through my closet and found the PERFECT outfit. 

WHIIICCHHHHHH I will be debuting later today. Not now. It's only 2pm you freak a leaks!! Besides, I have a meeting I have to run to in just a bit and I can't exactly show up naked to it. 

Wait, I take it back, I don't think the guys will mind. 

So, there you go. Lesson learned ... test all body painting for not only design purposes, but potential allergic reactions. 

I'm SUPER grateful that my face calmed down today. Being able to blink again without being in pain is awesome!!!! Guess that's something I won't take for granted anymore. SPECTACULAR since it's kinda something you do a lot of in life. 

Off I go!! 

Want to see the outfit for tonight's party? Friend me on Facebook. 

Want to see the private & will not be released photos of the party? Download the app MessageMe and here's my pin ... 

I'll send the photos to anyone that messages me between the hours of 8pm - 1am PST. 

Argh! I'm so stoked, man. I meet the most INTERESTING people at the mansion. The men are SO NICE and chill. 

Here we go!! W00t! 

#nerdsunite

#NerdsUnite: A letter to my inner child, who apparently is still there ... I think?

I had kind of a breakthrough yesterday, and I have to share. 

I've been all out of sorts lately. I assumed it was schedule oriented since it has been particularily packed. It's a blessing, truly truly spectacular to have these opportunities, but this isn't "just a website" to me and something I shut on and off. I write from my soul and TNTML has undeniably changed my life for good forever. Not only do I get the cathartic release of having an outlet to document everything, but it has given me this INSANE amount of confidence that I've never had before. 

I'm not confident on a personal level - at all. After 28 years I've developed a knack for getting away with shit, mostly because I've just had a lot of life experience and know that anytime I have ever tried to go after something chances were good I could figure it all out; it's a learned trust, but operates from this place that ... still ... fucking ... hurts. 

I always "know" things in my gut. I feel rhythm in everything. Trends, people, tech ... anything. It's this "channel" or "stream" for lack of a better word that I grew up very much knowing I could tap into. 

It's served me extremely well as it's that "thing" that I know in life to trust and listen to. For the last few weeks now, I've gotten over and over the fact that I need to re-read the book The Drama of the Gifted Child. 

At first, it came up when a friend posted it on my Facebook wall as a suggested read, and then again came up in conversation at dinner on Sunday (indirectly) and also yesterday while I was eating lunch watching the Bravo show LA Shrinks. 

I had already re-ordered the book last night on Amazon, but by the time I got the message for the THIRD time that I need to revisit the book - I lost it. 

I started crying uncontrollably. I couldn't even understand where this place was that I was crying from, but I knew I had a meeting in an hour so I better get myself composed. 

Water, get water, I thought. 

I went to the fridge and saw this picture of myself as a child ... 

I was a devious, devious little kid. Totally unapologetic about it too. I KNEW I could get away with murder, so I would CONSISTENTLY push as many of my parents buttons as possible smiling back batting my BIGGGGG blue eyes. 

What did I do wrong mommy? I would think as I ran through the racks of clothing stores hiding from my mom laughing as she was screaming my name. 

I would emerge every time like it was NBD and she was totally the crazy one. 

She would of course hug me and tell me to never leave her side again. Why oh why my parents didn't leash me is STILL beyond me. 

I then placed my hand on the photo, and continued to sob. 

I see this beautiful little girl, who yes was a handful, but never meant any wrong. 

How could they abuse a CHILD ... I sobbed and sobbed. 

My dad's family did a number on me.

Funny because I was not only on their doorstep via being featured in Hartford Magazine's January edition, but also New Haven Living's February edition. 

I am now the age that they were when my first memories of the abuse started. My parents had my brother and I super young, and my dad's siblings were only a few years older than him. 

I've told this story 100 times, but I can't stress how much of me still feels this ... hole inside. I spent a lot of my childhood in and out of therapy, and COUNTLESS of my own dollars as an adult. 

I remember my shrink at 22 told me to read The Drama of the Gifted Child, and I thought it was all a joke. 

Love my inner child? I would scoff back. You have GOT to be fucking kidding me. 

Being an intellect, and someone that defaults to logic it seemed ... insane. 

What does my inner child have to do with anything? I would ask in sessions. 

Because that little girl is still hurting, she would explain kindly. What was your nickname as a kid? 

Jenny, I said. Everyone in my family called me that until I was about 8. 

I want you to be very loving to Jenny, she instructed. Listen to what she wants, and send her lots of love. 

She then handed me this journal, and The Drama of the Gifted Child. Take notes, and write with your non-dominant hand. 

HA! I'm ambidextrous mothafucka! What's a non-dominant hand to someone like me? I thought from a place of arrogance and stubbornness. 

I want you to write from Jenny, she instructed. Write from that little girl inside. 
I stared back blankly wondering how am I the one on all the drugs? You're the nutso woman. 

I have issues with therapists. My grandfather was an extremely acclaimed psychiatrist, yet fucked over his own flesh and blood not showing a SHRED of regret until right up until his death. 

He haunted me in my dreams for MONTHS after he passed, and even the night before my breakthrough session with my shaman he appeared. 

I know he feels bad, I get it ... but what are you supposed to do with this damage? 

The worst part is, is that it wasn't even just them. They were absolutely my earliest memories of "confusion" (I didn't classify it as hurt because I was mostly just stunned), but my mom's siblings and inlaws were equally unkind and the teasing I received at school was RELENTLESS. 

My parents never talked "down" to my brother and me. They treated us as little adults for as long as I could remember. My mother being a writer, and my father an extremely smart lawyer meant a LOT of big words were used in the house. 

Being a 6 year old and busting out with something other than Green Eggs and Ham caused a lot of isolation. 

All I was trying to do was express myself in the manner in which I knew, but because other kids didn't understand it meant that I was "weird" and not allowed to play with barbies since I had "cooties" or some variant string of childhood leprosy. 

Quit with the mechanics, write from the heart. Write from the heart, Friel. It's so hard letting your guard down when you don't even know it's there. 

It's cool now to say that you grew up and were picked on. Especially in tech, it's almost a rite of passage ... but what isn't discussed is how damaging it is emotionally. The hate, the shame, the self deprecation wrapped in humor. 

It's not funny, and not a "rite of fucking passage." It's shitty. Done by shitty people that need a parade of crying puppies following them around on a daily basis. If I don't deal with this however, I am going to continuously loop. As I learned this weekend, I have to close the end tag in my subconscious. 

I knew I was different as a child. Everyone knew I was different actually, and told me quite often. 

My parents loved both my brother and I equally, but people have ALWAYS been attracted to me; I'm a people magnet. 

This helps me now in running my own business, but as a child it was a burden. 

From as early as I could remember I would just walk into the room and without even realizing it command attention. Never from the people that I wanted it from ::cough cough fuck you dad's family:: but anytime I would go with my mom to work, or be at the store, people would comment almost immediately on something I was doing. 

Being the ham that I was, I would courtesy or play up the cute card even more (MANIPULATIVE FROM THE WOMB!!!). 

I would then try the same "cute tactic" with my dad's family, or any of my relatives really ... and was consistently told that "children were to be seen and not heard." I couldn't understand the attention I could get without even lifting a finger, yet from my own family was told to quiet down ... or just go outside. 

My parents were wonderful (I'm past the whole, HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME MOM AND DAD stage), and did the best they could, but their daughter bottom line was quite the handful. 

You should get your daughter on TV, said someone to my mother when I was just a few years old. 

She thought about it for a moment, but then put it out of her mind. Child actors are all crazy, she told me she thought. I don't want that for my child. 

A few more years passed, I think at this point I was about 7, and I VIVIDLY remember being in the grocery store with my mom. 

She had told me to hold her spot at the check out while she ran back to grab some milk. 

At my eye level (I was a peanut) was a magazine cover of Cindy Crawford. 

At that age, I obviously knew what a magazine was and that people that were "in entertainment" ended up on there, but I also knew that was going to be me. 

TO THIS DAY I remember my actual thought, and it was, "I wonder when she was my age if she knew she was going to be there one day?" 

I had no idea what, how, or why, I was going to end up on one ... but like the trends and things I can feel - I just knew. 

About a year later, Saved By The Bell came out, and since it was based in California I also decided that was where I was going to be. 

I'm going to move to California, I announced to my parents. 

Okay daughter, they said continuing whatever it was they were doing. 

The years went on though, and I never changed my mind. I had no idea that the "entertainment industry" was based in California nor did I even know what I wanted to do in it ... but I knew it was where I belonged. 

I'm going to be Kelly Kapowski, I thought. 

Of course the delusion of Saturday morning entertainment lasted only 22 minutes - what was left, were a lot of tears and genuine confusion. 

I had no real "friends" in school, and every holiday or birthday was spent crying in my room. 

WHY DON'T THEY LOVE ME?!?! I would SSOOOOOBBBBBBBBB to my parents. 

<tangent> I hated my birthday throughout all of my childhood. I'm not really mad at it anymore, since I am proud of all that I have accomplished thus far in my lifetime- but I'm still kinda meh about the entire thing. </tangent>

You're different Jenny, they would say, cradling me. 

Why do I have to be different?!?! I would cry back!! 

I.just.want.them.to.love.me.I.just.want.to.be.normal. I would sob seal style into my pillow until I passed out. 

Up until that point I had never told anyone about my entertainment industry aspirations. It wasn't until my 7th grade teacher Mr. V that I uttered it to a single adult outside of my parental units. 

He pulled me aside one day after one of our talent shows (I had been taking dance from the time I was two. The same age actually that I started typing). 

You shine on stage, he said. You sparkle and you don't find that in people very often. 

Taking his compliment as permission for expression, I then admitted my deepest desire. I remember shaking as the words escaped my mouth that I had wanted to be an entertainer. 

In Connecticut everyone goes to college, becomes some sort of educated professional, has 2.5 kids, and coasts into retirement clutching their pearls and downing prozac. 

While some may have dreams of being an entertainer, it's not exactly the most realistic or logical career path. 

I already knew that about you, he said. You're a star, and people are drawn to you. 

I thought back to my own family, and struggles with peers.

Excusing the familia part, I opted to reply, yeah but I don't have a lot of friends. (Not that I'm sure he didn't notice anyway.)

But people respect you, he said. You're different and a leader. You'll figure out the friend part one day, but you need to just figure out you. It will pay off one day, he said. 

I'm different ... I'm different ... I'm different ... all of these people keep telling me how "different" I am, but what's SO GREAT about being DIFFERENT!!!! 

Being different to me as a child translated to isolation, absolute absolute emotional abuse, and this undercurrent of mania and panic not thinking but KNOWING that people were laughing at me. 

Instead of getting angry at various circumstances or demanding a change, I did what most children do, and shut down. 

I very rarely fought back when I was picked on. I let the children said what they wanted to, all the while knowing that the adults on my father's side of the family confirmed it. 

I am pathetic, I said to myself over and over as a child. 

My parents tell me how much they love me, and how special I am, but they are supposed to say those things. Everyone else in the world tells me over and over something differently, so who am I supposed to believe? 

My inner monologue only reflected the confusion. 

Instead of relying on peers to help (since I never had them) I turned to my journal and to the internet. 

My parents weren't ultra loaded at that time, but my parents did have computers at the house (which wasn't common back then) and by the time 7th grade was ending I was already online. 

YAHOO!! was the default screen. 

<tangent> I was on prodigy before then, but all I did was write a bunch of poetry and play Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego? I remember the login screen was yellow, and I think blue? There were a bunch of variations though I do remember. We were on hella old school on a green screen Epson for a hot minute, and then transferred over to I don't even know what, but it had a J: drive and all I did was play Jeopardy all day. </tangent> 

I saw near the "search" bar an option to chat. 

Chat? Like talk to people? 

Wait, I can talk to people online? I thought?! 

I vividly remember having a handful of penpals on Prodigy but if memory serves correct it was more of a forum. I don't remember there being "traditional email" and I honestly don't remember there being a chat. The emotional connection and repeated interaction DEFINITELY wasn't there, so the whole concept of a retained and centralized chat fascinated me. 

Enter in screen name, or create an account, it said. 

Create an account, I selected. 

I honestly don't remember if I put my real name (I don't know what my 12 year old brain would have made up), but I entered in the suggested handle "cyber-babe." 

<tangent> I had heard adults call the internet "cyber space" and watching WAY too much In Living Color and Married With Children, I was definitely entering aspirational babe territory. </tangent> 

It was available. 

Awesome, I thought, securing the handle. 

I then found myself with access to a series of chat rooms.

From "The Den" to "Hot Spot" being a cyber-babe was quite confusing.

A/s/l? people would type into the chat box.

I pretty much figured out it was age/sex/location but why anyone was asking was beyond me.

I browsed through a few more rooms and finally found something more my speed. It was a room called "love and light." 

I want to love, I thought. And I love sunshine so this is good. 

Oh good god the adorableness of innocence. 

It was in that chat that I was spared from the barrage of unknowing sexual advances and entered into this space where I could actually "connect." 

I didn't tell anyone how old I was, but for the first time in my life, I admitted to another soul that I was in pain. 

I hurt, I confessed to the room. 

Since my actual name wasn't present, I felt this anonymity that allowed transparency. 

What's wrong? typed back a handful of people. 

Nobody likes me, I typed. Family ... I have no friends .... 

A few people started typing HAHAHA. 

I vividly remember staring at the screen shocked, and hurt thinking how much I couldn't handle any more isolation. 

Welcome home, said another line of chat. 

You hurt too? I typed back. 

Of course, the person said. We all do. Welcome to life!!! 

Their excitement confused me. People in Connecticut act like their life is perfect, and you are the weird one for feeling any ounce of pain. The fact that they were all openly admitting their pain was a paradigm shift. 

Obvi, they didn't know I was 12, but I didn't care. It was the first time I was TRRULLLYYY honest with another human being, and the first time I was truly honest with myself. 

I feel invincible online, I thought. 

I remember that night writing in my journal that I thought I had "found my people." I didn't have to feel alone anymore, there was this chat room I could go to and ... chat. 

Night after night, I would sneak onto Yahoo! to chat. My parental units were really good about monitoring our computer usage, but behold the power of the child and the quick fingers of screen swappage. 

=)

I channeled all of my pain, and isolation as a youngin into those rooms. I attempted to switch it up on more than one occasion, but ALWAYS came back to "love and light." 

Being online at that time translated to being a TRUE freak. People are naturally afraid of things they don't understand and people in 2013 STILL barely get this whole "online" thing, so imagine back in 1997!!!!!! 

I confessed to a girl in one of my classes how much I was into chat rooms one day. 

YOU DO THAT?!?! she screeched back?! My parents tell me not to go on there. Bad things happen. 

I was confused with what she was saying, especially with so many positive experiences. 

<tangent> Of COURSE I was no saint either. Being the original cyber-babe on Yahoo! DEFINITELY meant I got some extremely creepy messages, but my sexual impulses at that time were extremely random. I didn't connect the dots to peer to peer masturbation over the computer. It was more of a regurgitation of "oh yeah baby you turn me on" much like the processing of what a "babe" was in general. I had no fucking clue. </tangent> 

These just aren't my people, I said to my journal. I don't understand people I go to school with but when I go online I can be free. There is someone there to talk to, and someone that likes me. I've found home. 

By the time I was 13, my parents knew my devotion to computers was something extreme. At that point, I had been typing for 11 years, developed my own little computer consulting company called "computers anonymous" and had even built out a series of sites on angelfire and geocities using the MASSSIIVVEEEEE HTML book I begged them to buy me one day. 

I never studied programming, but I would search manually in the book for whatever line of code I needed and figure out how to edit it to get what I wanted. 

#FFFF for white, I read, typing it in our packard bell, or gateway. 

All of it was regurgitation. Much like the Pound Puppies books I saw when I was 2. I couldn't even read at that point, but I recognized shapes and knew that that shape was the same as the one that my mom had typed and appeared on the screen. If I just pushed a button I could repeat. This was actually fun to me. I'm NOT kidding. 

 <tangent> This is where I struggle, btw. I'm told I need to be more "loving" and "warm" with my vocabulary, but my entire life I've been technical. Even before I was able to process what was happening, the 2 year old "Jenny" still taught herself how to type. It's like being raised on speaking Greek only to be told one day you can't speak Greek anymore, you have to learn Russian. THIS IS WHAT I KNOW!!!!! I'm COMMPPLLEEETTEELLLYYY open to changing (and recognize this is a turning point) but it is extremely, extremely foreign and INSANELY difficult for me to process. Wait, maybe that is the point. Feel Friel, Feel ... and quit referring to yourself in the third person. </tangent> 

So, no friends ... Jenny goes online ... finds friends .... a home page ... life is bueno. 

Except, at age 12/13 kids start dating. 

While online boyfriends did happen even back then, I knew it wasn't what I wanted. 

I grew up LOOVVINNNNGGG Disney movies, and while most were told it was all a fairy tale, I actually also had that at home. 

My parents met in grade school, and my dad said he knew my mom was "the one" at age 12. 

Now being at that age, I thought THIS IS MY BIG CHANCE!!! Now is the time!! Let's do this!!! 

Only the magnetism I had as a youngin had diluted to the awkwardness of the teen years. 

Big glasses, braces, and acne shadowed my Kelly Kapowski dreams. 

Selena was really big at that time, and I remember hearing on the radio (I always needed noise to fall asleep) this song as I closed my eyes ... 

I'm dreaming of you tonight, I would hum to myself. 
"The one" is out there. I know it exists! I see it in my parents. I just have to find you and until that day when I do, I will just ... keep ... dreaming. 

I was an extremely, extremely romantic child. 

How could I not be? Not an interaction went by without my parents saying how much they loved each other (and STILL to this day I will go home and catch them making out). Sure, our lives weren't perfect. They fought. We fought ... but there has ALWAYS been this bond between my parents. It's the bond that fairy tales are based upon, and Disney only confirmed. 

From Selena to All 4 One, I WAS read Cinderella and I KNNNEEEWWWWWWW one day it was COMING TRUE CHILD!!!!!! 

My teen years, as a result, were left strung along a series of disappointments. 

Not only did my friend situation not improve, but after a handful of dates, and only one boyfriend - I was always left in the "friend zone." 

Guys wanted to date me to cheat on my homework. They wanted my brain, not my body. 

Fortunately, the good grades that were my saving grace were also my ticket out of high school at age 16 with honors. 

::end flashback:: 

It wasn't until a few months ago that I realized I am living out my childhood all over again. When it came to launching this site and developing what I viewed as my "ideal life," I wound up creating a crutch that was a childhood coping mechanism. 

In an attempt to work on intimacy and not broadcast everything the second I felt it (who knew this wasn't normal), I decided to keep that bit of it for myself. 

All that I have learned though is that I am still hitting a brick wall. 

I have now been in a handful of magazines, and have not only been in but co-produced three seasons of a TV show. I am at 28 everything "Jenny" visioned. 

My gut was right, but it's still not enough. 

I struggle wondering if I chose entertainment for purpose of validation or if it chose me. I do believe there is a magnetism to certain people that cannot be explained, but I also believe it is neither here nor there. 

I still do not believe on a personal level that I am enough, but I struggle to even process what "enough" is. 

Being a chick that documents her life online means you get an INSANNNNEEEE amount of dudes every day that want to jump your bones, but I view it all as commercial attraction based on facial symmetry. 

My eyes are X amount of distance apart, cheek bones are Y. 

I still don't take ownership.

The other day I got this email (only a portion enclosed) ... 

It was true to the point that I still haven't been able to reply back. 

None of what I do is conscious. I just have no filter, so I spew my thoughts onto this website in the hopes of figuring it out as I go along. 

The guys dated me for help with their homework are now taking me out to get help with their start ups. I am absolutely, absolutely, in a loop without a closed end tag. 

MY EXACT TWEET FROM MONDAY!!!

I sit here and rely on my intelligence (like I did as a child) to create a barrier between me and everyone else. If I say I'm too busy with homework, it will hide the fact that I am sad that no one has invited me to a party, or even called to see how I was doing on any given day. 

While my business popularity has caused me to put my phone on "do not disturb" more times than I want to admit - the people that I can call "friends" and not have them involved with this website are very few. 

I'm extremely extremely elated to have you all here, please do not misinterpret, but I need to stop having so many people I call friends be involved with this website. I need a place where "Jenny" can play, and not hide in cyber space because she was picked on one too many times. 

I preach how capable I am to hide how unworthy I still feel of being loved, and how afraid I am of the fact that the only time I've ever been hurt by someone is because I've allowed them to get close. 

I lead with how good I am in business in the hopes that no one will notice how awkward I feel IRL. People think it's a joke, but WATCH ME!!!!!! I'm FUCKING WEIRD at bars!!!!! I always, always deflect to how amazing new media is, and discuss trends in the social space so no one will notice how much I want to jump out of my skin and jump behind a computer where I can very literally put a barrier between myself and the rest of the world. 

Even what I am doing now. 

Why have I never admitted this to another living person? I'm still in digital land hiding out protecting Jenny. 

Fuck. 

Wait, does this mean that my logical brain is actually accepting of this inner child my shrink made me call "Jenny?" 

I am everything I ever wanted to be, but still do not feel enough. How is that possible? 

How can I process so much of life and still be so confused? 

Quiet time. SHHHHH!! Stop talking. 

FFFFUUUCCCKKKKKKK!!!

#despiteallmyrageiamstilljustaratinacage

click the screenshot to comment on Facebook

click the screenshot to comment on Facebook