This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 2)

Can I get a huzzah for just how fucking AWESOME the weather is in Hollywood? Like, LA ... I love you. I kinda wanna make out now. That cool? Dudes, you guys are making my life with these comments. Thank you all so so so much for the support on these posts! They have literally taken this site hostage until I can spew them all out. Good lord, I literally cannot post anything else - like at all. Have to get this out.

K ... so if you're not caught up on what's goin down ... here's part one ... and here's part one point five. 

(Basically, I got my heart supremely broken a year and a half ago ... it actually was one of the reasons that I started this blessed little site. It's impairing my current OkCupid social experiment ... so I decided to grab this story by the balls and take ownership of it. These are a series of posts that I am doing to hash it out and make it tangible so I can move on since I can't afford therapy. FOR REALS!! That shit is expensive!!!)

Alrite, ready? Time to be fucking fabulous.

So, the chickadee that he went to that event to had a nickname, me and the English girls called her "brownie girl." Like literally, a chick that has brownies, not like a brownie girl as in the pre-girl scout chickadees cause like that would be weird and illegal, and very weird, and very very illegal.

After the mentalist went to that "networking" party, brownie girl hit him up to go to another event the following Friday. (My brain remembers the weirdest details when it comes to storytelling, I can actually tell you that they went out on a Friday. WEIRRRDDDD) This party however, he was definitely going as a plus one, and it was definitely a date. Again, we were not in an exclusive relationship by his definition. Which btw, is like the most evil thing you can do to a person that loves you. Even if you don't love them back ... you have to do them a favor and just let them be, or go away for a bit ... love can't just sort of process all out there by itself. Did he not see Jerry Maguire??? (Skip to 1:08)

He didn't call it a date to my face - he told me he was actually using her just for her contacts at this event. He's totally a charmer. I knew she was prolly bat shit crazy about him, but I dunno, my gut told me that if I slept in his bed none of it mattered. Go do your thing, it's part of your persona, it's part of what you do. Like, no literally, I get that shit. I am annoyingly a non-jealous human being when it comes to relationships - I frankly just.don't.care. He wanted the contacts this chick had, go for it man - its your karma in using people for shit like that. I feel like that's Hollywood 101, but whatevs - I'll judge you in silence with my judgey mcjudgerson eyes. JUDGEY MCJUDGERSON!!! 

He leaves for the date by giving me this big kiss and yada yada yada. That night I was supposed to go somewhere. I forget where, but either way, my plans fell through. I plopped my lil fanny on his couch and started to read. hahaha it's a Friday night in Hollywood - I'm 24, of course I would be sitting on a couch reading. Dude, Outliers had just come out!!!! OMG OMG OMMMFFGGGGG love me some Gladwell!!!! I am not entirely unconvinced however that magical fairies don't live in his fro - it is pretty epic, and must include fairy dust. Duh.

Something happened with them after he left - she needed to come inside the house and do something ... or something ... I don't remember that part. But there I was reading, and a knock came at the door. It was brownie girl, with the mentalist not far in tow. I was like, you have GOT to be fucking kidding me! You're coming inside the house? Wait, are we about to meet? You the chick the dude that I love is using for the night for "contacts" - haha what does that even MEAN!!!

I open the door, and literally turn right around and sit back down. HAHAHA I was such a bitch, I didn't even introduce myself - like stone cold. I'm a very deliberate and willful person. I got a lot of love in my heart, but I can't do polite conversation - like at all. I really don't care who you are, you're being used ... and now I'm supposed to sit there and smile? WTF?!

She walks in the apartment literally like she owns the place. She goes over to the counter and places this tray of brownies down on the counter and then walks into his bedroom (the bedroom WE SHARE), to use the bathroom. There were so many things happening in this scenario, my brain hit overload. Who the fuck is this chick to stroll in like she owns the place? (See, what I'm doing there ... I'm being jealous. JEEAALLLOOOUUUSSS) It was weird, he told me she had never been here before ... swore up and down by it ... how the fuck did she know where the bathroom is, and why was she walking around so cool, calm, and collected? THIS IS WEIRD!!!

Oh yeah, wait a second too - WHO COOKS BROWNIES FOR A DATE?!?! Who even COOKS in Los Angeles!!!!!!!! Like literally, never. The only time I would ever even contemplate making brownies was when I was stoned out of my fucking mind, and dude, by cooking I mean grabbing one of those 5:00 microwaveable things from the store. These were like actual brownies, with actual ingredients, bought from an actual grocery store - not 7-11, in an ACTUAL CONTAINER WITH PINK SARAN WRAP OVER THEM!!!!!!!!!

She emerges from the bathroom super giddy to gift me with these brownies ... she goes, I heard you were here!! I am SOOOOO excited to meet his houseguests!!!!!!!! Are you guys having fun? I can't believe there are 4 of you living in this one bedroom! Super cozy! Are you all getting along?

Words were coming out of this chicks mouth, and literally, with each one a piece of me died. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?!?!?!?!?! I fuck the dude that you're going out on this date with, please don't liquor him up too much ... his whiskey dick is meh.

The mentalist then walked into the apartment. He was standing by the door asking if she was ready to leave. She then goes, OH! I have a gift for you!!! Gift too? Wait what? I ... I ... I ... just wanted to read my book. Come to think of it I should have just walked into the bedroom or something and been all, sup bitch?! I sleep here ... but I didn't think of it. I very literally think she thought the 3 of us chicks slept on that queen sized air mattress - hahaha not kidding. Wow, super hot mental picture. TICKLE PARTYYYYY!!! K ... moving on ...

I grab my book and pretend to not be looking over. She gives him this magic set from like the 1800s - was no doubt super expensive, and super weird to just give to someone when you are on a date with them. This was what, their like first official date? A bit much, eh? Whatever, some bitches just can't hang organically.

So, they went to that event ... apparently she got a lil drunkey drunk and tried getting all up on him. Not like all, all up on him - but she took him to this lingerie show, and apparently tried getting him on the dance floor or whatever by swaying her sexiness in his face. He apparently wasn't having it. This is of course just the shit he spewed out to me. Lordy schmickmordy knows what actually went down.

He comes home, and we bone on the couch. It was the kind of bone that you're like fucking for freedom. I was angry - really angry. Who did this chick think that she was messin wit my man!! Again, looky looky who he came home to!?! (Dude, how can I say I am not a jealous person? Look at these words that are escaping my mouth. Insane.)

Couple days go by, and he gets a call from brownie girl - she wants her dish back. That woman is either one of the dumbest people on the planet, (like literally - she even pronounces her own name wrong. HAHAHAHA totally not even kidding. It's spelled Amber, but she goes hiiiiiii - my name is UMMBBEERRRR. It's like um, your last name is Spanish, you're not French bitch) or one of the smartest. She brought the dish so she could ask for it back and see him again. That insecure that your milkshake don't naturally bring all the boys to the yard??? SUCKKAAA!!! Dude, she was diabolical. I've literally never. ever. thought about doing that to a boy. Come to think of it, I wouldn't even ask for a dish back from one of my good friends. It's just one of those things ... leave it be.

They went back and forth, and back and forth for a bit. She kept wanting to "pop" by ... I kept wanting to pop her one. Isn't love grand!

I grilled him relentlessly on this chick. It just made no sense for her to do all of those things to someone that she just met. I POINT BLANK asked him one day when he was standing in the bathroom if he had ever even kissed anyone after me - he said no. I didn't think to ask if he had boned anyone else, figured that one was common knowledge. Dude, we didn't kiss but I totally put it in. I'm a lawyers daughter, I should have known to ask.

Something about this chick rubbed me the wrong way. Like literally, I can get along with anyone. Albeit, I was WAY more uptight then, but I've always been a nerdy hippie that just kinda went with the flow of it all. The things he told me about this chick made NO SENSE to the way she was acting. Again, this chick is either the most evil person on the planet, or the smartest and like buildings should be named after her, and a holiday should be created in her honor. Oh, and a parade. She totally needs a parade.

Needless to say, I was incredibly confused.

Dude, the brownies though ... not that bad. Thanks, bitch. 

Alrite, gonna take a breather here. That was an intense story ... hahahaha!! Next up, I said goodbye to the English chicks, hello to two new lodgers from Minnesota - and brownie girl? HAHAHA she's not going anywhere. I was so fucking right about her.

#staytuned

Seriously guys ... thanks so so much for reading these posts, and for your support in me expressing this. I had ABSOLUTELY no idea I was harboring so much of this anger. This feels utterly amazing to let it out. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

Click here to read the next installment

This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 1.5)

The emotional escape artist in me still wants to leave, but I will walk towards the uncomfort - cause like, that's where things happen. I am admitting this story to my family, friends, business peeps, omg, my life - my everything .... own it Jen, own it! Remember: "the truth shall set you free!" (I have no bed, but I can hide in my spirithood.)Bahhhhhhhh!! Thank you all so. so. so. so. SOOOOO much for the tweets, emails, and Facebook messages regarding part 1 of this post. It's chillin on the same page as this, but click here if you have yet to read part one.

Again, this has nothing to do with anything outside of PURE AND UTTER FRUSTRATIONNNNN over my current social experiment on OKC - I'm a lifecaster - I tell stories about my life. This one however, I have yet to tell ... and holy mother of a clam mackin' on a lamb eatin a piece of ham - this one is good.

I stepped away from the site as much as I could this afternoon, and just decompressed. I kid you not, I can talk about anything in life ... like literally, nothing bothers me, ever. I'm operating from a place of nothing to lose ... but this story hurts. And hurts bad. We have over 4,995 posts on this site. I have written over 90% of them ... that results in approximately 4,500 posts that I personally have written since this sites inception. THIS IS THE MOST PAINFUL STORY ... EVER. Get it? I need this release. The life of the lifecaster behind this depends on it. Sans all of you ... I assure you ... blah blah blah ... it's noise. I need the release, I can't afford therapy.

Of course it's further compounded by seeing it in print and recognizing that GOOD LORD I WAS AN IDIOT, but I also recognize that this was very literally another lifetime for me. I don't know the person that I was almost 2 years ago, but this was certainly a glimpse into her state of consciousness. (See that? I disassociated myself from that being. Huh huh? Yeah, I'm over it too. But of course, the second that you say you are over it, you are technically speaking still under it - since we can never recognize when we are still ensconced in the space. Am I still talking? Shut up, Jen.)

K ... moving on ... so you read part 1 right? Moving onto part 1.5.

::Scooby doo beginning:: DOOBEY DOO DOOBEY DOO DOOBEY DOO!!!

Ready for what's in my ears? Here we go ... HIT IT KD!!!!!

This is a human condition.

Oh yeah and, PS ...

Love love love me some @jonathan360!! Good peeps. For reals, smart mofo! follow him!

Tangent, Jen! Tangent! QUIT WITH THE SHINY THINNGGSSS!!!

The day I moved in with the mentalist, albeit again, I will own the fact that it was under false pretenses in a certain regard - or uh, in every regard (don't hate a chick that goes after what she wants in life ... people, things, I will break down ANYYTHIINNNNGGGGG into doable actions and figure out how I can execute. It's my thing - I own it. Hence why things happen to me, I go and fucking get them.). I was going to be around this human being. I didn't know what he had, but I wanted more.

Alrite, so pre the English girls moving in, like literally the day I moved in - he called me and told me that he had this party that he had to go to. He said, well, if it does x for my career immediately, I am absolutely going to go, but otherwise, I am picking you up from the airport. I've been in relationships before, dude, at that point, had even spent a year living with a boy - but I'm WAYYYYY more of a career girl than anything. Business gets me off more than babies. Don't get me wrong, love love love me some kids, but in the here and the then (potentially even now, who knows - I personally rule nothing out in life. The SECOND that you do, life changes. I just am, and I am just being.), my constant was business before anything. He told me the entire situation, and I said go for it! This chick had invited him to this big "networking" party ... whatever, told him he should go for it, the airport was the airport - as long as I knew an address I could get to his place in no time.

I remember those words coming out of my mouth, I remember prolly even texting them to him as well - but when it came to the actual execution, I stood in the airport at LAX for 10 minutes looking for him. Literally. Like looking everywhere. I was a dreamer. I still am a dreamer, hahaha clearly, I'm in the social space, I'll always dream - but I remember collecting my pieces of luggage and subsequently getting into my super shuttle sans my Prince Charming, and tearing up. He is literally a professional magician - I half expected him to pop out of a back seat, pop out of the luggage claim, good lord, just pop out of a hat or something ... somewhere - I guess I really was going back to his place, sans him. He had told me where he left a key, and in I went.

Again, I told him, go do your work thing - but the me that used to live in fantasy land was incredibly hurt that this wasn't some ploy or wasn't some sort of something ... he really was at this event, with this chick, and wow, he wasn't here to pick me up. Amazing start to coming home, right? Welcome to my state of consciousness, and my version of reality. In my world, I couldn't imagine not meeting the person that you cared for at the airport to greet them with open arms - surprise or not ... the surprise was on me, ha ha! He really wasn't there!

He came back to his apartment, and literally the second that I saw him, nothing in this world mattered. The guy that I loved came home from wherever, to kiss me. Nothing at that time ever mattered to me, except where you slept. If you come home to the mama that brings the bacon, the rest is kosher (except bacon, cause bacon is like soooooo not kosher - but you get the point! MMMMMM quarter pounder with cheese DROOOL!!!!)

He was wearing this black suit that night, and good lord - talk about taking your breath away. I loved this human being, so much. Like, so, so, so much. The world spun - choirs started singing, I can literally remember the exact lighting (it was approximately 11:30 pm, but the lighting from the fountains in the courtyard lit the apartment that certain way - I only remember the time because I have photographic memory, and I remember hitting "guide" on his Uverse TV literally seconds prior to his arrival), the exact everything of when I laid eyes on this human being in that moment. The rest was bullshit. He was here - whoever that he was, this was happening.

*sigh* 

I am sitting here typing this while still remembering how he smelled ... the gel in his hair, the look in his eyes - I loved him so much, and now we were living together. Anything that I ever thought was everything was just happening.

Want the honest to god truth? I'm actually tearing up thinking about that moment. He looked so good. so. so. so. good. I'm not having waterworks, but good lord, I'm right now in this moment reliving that head to SOUUULLLL feeling ... breathe Jen breathe. Standing next to his stereo, he looked so good. (Yeah, question my nerdiness? When it recalls one of the greatest moments of my life, I can still even tell you what CDs he had in his stereo. Nerds are born, not raised.) Had less to do with commercial attraction to anything, and just more of how he, that night, felt about himself. I felt it, man. I felt it. He was at the top of his game, I literally left Florida with a direct booking for a nationwide commercial that I turned down. I was like pppfffttt - if I can get that in this market, it's time to head back to LA. My confidence was at its highest, his confidence was at his highest - the awesomeness of life's reflectiveness was felt by all parties. 

Dude, he looked so hot. Am I really being this big of a chick right now? Cause the female in me is recalling every moment of that everything ... and realizing that that moment alone - made life worth it. I loved someone from the depths of my soul, they loved me back, and in that moment, life was worth it - and we kissed.

Wow ... hold up a sec, I need a minute ... haha totally not even kidding. That was intense. I just shared that moment with the world. K ... moving on.

I remember that night sitting on his bed as he was undressing in his walk in closet that was just past the only bathroom that was attached to his bedroom - I said, how was the event? He went on and on about how lame it was, that the chick was weird, that he couldn't believe I was there ... with him ... in this moment.

Of course then we had sex. We actually had a lot of sex. Prolly the most amount of sex I have ever had with anyone. I'm a very passionate person - I assure you, that translates to each and every bit of your body. I may hustle til the cows come home, but I literally get off on the hustle. Translation: I am a horny bitch.

Also too, we had the best sex ever. Not honestly the best sex I have had til date, hahaha - the reins have been transferred  ... but sex prior to him was about appeasing the dude. It was oh yes! oh yes! oh yes!!!!! Did you cum? For the first time in my life, I felt my own body. I felt my own sexuality - I very literally came into my own skin (literally and figuratively ::zing::) Having your first orgasm through penetration is an incredibly overwhelming experience to share with someone. Dudes are biologically conditioned to spread their seeds - women are conditioned to create a family - a bond. Plus too, I had an orgasm as a teen through my young adulthood (dry humping for females = best thing ever), but I very literally had never had an orgasm in front of another human being. This wasn't some porno, this was my actual life. A female orgasm has a sense of trust, and emotional connection to it. Less about the physical, more about the emotional. Translation: THIS WAS A BIG FUCKING DEAL.

 He was my first. Not my first love, but my first orgasm from penetration, my first real ... something. The first time I very literally would have even tattooed a boy's name on my ass. Like literally - I am pretty sure I even said to him once, dude - I'll get your name tattooed on me ... my life became this human being. Was it oddly unhealthy? Prolly. Are you all reading this thinking I am nuts? Sure! But I am trying not to judge the words as they are coming out of my mouth, just accepting them as they are, and just letting them be. Yes, me with two very meaningful tattoos, and only those two tattoos, would have also had this duderinos name tattooed on my body. I know that's like rule number 2 for "what not to do in life as a female" - but I was very literally willing to tell the world for the rest of my life just HOW MUCH I loved this human being.

When you're a go big or go home kinda person, I assure you, that translates to every bit of your being. You love hard, you love deep - and the rest just is. I very. very. very. much loved this human being.

Whew, dudes, I am so not even kidding you when I say that this feels like THE MOST AMAZING THING EVVERRR to release these feelings for this individual ... but this is all documented in real time. There is a real chick right now, sitting in a spirithood, recalling all of these memories. I gotta get to bed. It's almost 4:30am. You have to understand this is also so UNBELIEVABLY absurd to me that I can still even recall all of these emotions for one single human being after they caused me such pain that I launched a brand, a nationwide tour, and oh yeah - a fucking pilot that's coming soon to a TV near you. Til the day I die, know this - I will never ever. ever. publicly say who this individual is. He's so fucked in the head, I assure you, it'll rock his socks off ... I've got one thing to say to you ...

fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.

You got all the bad karma you deserve you fucking asshole.

I'm bout to fuck yo' shit up!!!

Whew - wow, that felt amazing. hahaha! holy crap! that was inside of me? amazing!

k ... part two coming in the morning.

The chick he went to that party with turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes in his plan. Like for reals - if he had literally never, ever, ever, met that chick - he prolly would still be kosher with a lot of the shit he did ... this site may not even be around ... i may have had a tattoo of his name on my ass ... and the blowjob heard around the world, may not have even happened.

Gimme a few hours - and I'll give you all the rest. UGHHHHHHHHH this feels amazing to release.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

#namaste

Click here to read the next installment

This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 1)

Editor's Note: This is an epic epic epic series of posts. No, like seriously. The week these were posted was hands down our biggest week ever on the site. It's very involved and very addicting. I warn you of this not to toot my own horn, but to make you aware that this will take time away from your life. If you have children, please make sure they are fed - and the dogs have been walked. Disclaimer over.

Click here to go to a specific post.

Part 1 (See Below)

Part 1.5

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

In conducting my OKCupid social experiment for the last 8 months, I have found that out of 98 dates, there were only 4 of which I actually felt that "spark" with. All of the 4 have come from different backgrounds, have entirely different personalities, and look completely different; I've isolated as many of the variables as I could (with what little I knew about each one) and discovered that the only trait they all shared was emotional unavailability. I don't believe in soulmates or this notion of there ever being a "one." I think we are attracted to someone because of there being a lack within ourselves that resonates within this other person - and vice versa. In fact, I'm pretty black and white on that. So, I am attracted to emotionally unavailable men which results in me continuously having my heartbroken. I am so not kosher for that passover. I have to get over my emotional unavailability. What's my next doable action in that? Addressing the cause of said emotional unavailability. I present to you ... my best attempt ...

First up ... this is what's groovin in my ears ... HIT IT Cee Lo!

Alrite, so it's no secret that one of the reasons this site got started was because of a broken heart. Like a really really really bad broken heart. The kinda broken heart that pains the soul, and leaves you incapacitated for an extended period of time - OR motivates you enough to change your life for good. Yay for taking the more productive of the two!

I've sort of talked about it, but I haven't publicly released any of the anger that I still feel. I am ANNNGGGRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYY at this human being. Like, I swear to you, if I ever see him - there is no doubt I am going to deck him. I use his face all the time as I am boxing. HAHAHA, I was actually in a training session once and I was so pissed off at him I threw this medicine ball and broke it. Clearly I have some unresolved issues with this human being - and it is causing a major blockage in my current dating situation. I need to rectify it at once. I am hoping this post will help. I'm not an angry person - the exact opposite. There's gotta be a way to work through this. Alrite, enough delaying Jen ... spit it out.

The story of the mentalist. You ready? I actually knew him for a few years before we started dating (as is typically my MO, I almost always end up dating boys from my circle of friends). I met him the way that I meet most people, in the most RANDOM scenarios ... this one was on a super shuttle back at the end of 2007. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I was flying to NY to do this charity event that I was hired as a producer for. Super rad! Was getting off the phone as I sat down next to this duderino who was also the only other person in the shuttle. We strike up a conversation, I have no idea over what, and then he goes - I'm gonna read your mind right now. Me being me (who else would I be in this scenario. What does that MEAANNNN), and alwaysssss game for a good mind fuck, I said alrite! Followed his little rules, wrote it down on this card ... didn't show it to him. Whatever. Low and behold, he actually got it. The reveal was incredibly impressive. He does this thing where he looks you dead in the eye and tells you to hold onto the name. In my head I'm thinking as he's going through the alphabet, are my pupils dilating when he reaches each letter? Of course that's not the case ... ALL of these tricks are crazy stupid simple (mirrors, little pencils under the fingers) - it's all for show. 

Well, bottom line - he was totally good, and totally got my number. I was actually interested in talking to him as well for the charity event I was working for. I said I had no idea in what capacity I could use him, but that I thought he was good ... damn good. At the time he was on this big show on a major cable network, so he told me he'd be busy for a bit but would love to keep in touch. He then friended me on Myspace, and Facebook - and we kinda just went our own little ways. 

Flash forward to the spring of 2009, and he had posted this thing on Facebook saying that he was going to be on this super super super huge talk show. I watched that show religiously at the time, so I was all STFU!!! That's AMAZIINNNNGGGGGGG!!! I was on the east coast at the time, and he was on the west coast - so of course the second it came on I messaged him saying that he did such a great job, because again, this dude's talent has never been in question. He is very. very. very. very. good at what he does. A little too good. We then started exchanging Facebook messages back and forth, and he asked for my number, so that quickly turned into some long phone conversations. I fell for this dude - so so quickly. It was the first time in my life I felt like I was dating someone as smart as me; mentalists aren't dumb. My dating record prior had been a lot of GQ looking boys that were straight up dumb as rocks. It was tragic actually - but those were the only boys that would really ever talk to me. The douchey ones are the ones that have nothing left to lose and will at least say "how you doin" at the bar.  This was the first time a guy wasn't intimidated by my intelligence, dude, I could use BIG WORDS!!!!!!! omg omg omg omg omg such a turn on.

I'm sure he profiled me, figured out what type of person I was so he knew how to play me ... again, this guy does this for a living. I am not ashamed to admit that I fell for it (a bit embarrassed, but not ashamed). He then said he wanted to come out to Florida to see me - he was going to fly all the way out there specifically to get to hang out with me. Amazing! I thought! Who does that for someone unless they really like them? Huge deal. Fucking huge. 

I met him at the airport, and I just instantly fell head over heels in love with this dude. Like hardcore. Head. Over. Heels. There's clearly no doubt that I was played, but there was just this organic component of absurd attraction. Whatever this guy had, I wanted. Bad. He stayed in town for a week, and we got to know each other. I'm so embarrassed for how quickly I fell for this boy. I mean you just have no idea ... putty. I was fucking putty. I really enjoyed spending time with him. He was so smart, and so accomplished - he had this air about him that was undeniable. It was insane. At the time, I had never met anyone like him. He was different, for sure. 

He would tout his celebrity status in my face all the time, and when he was offered a car at the car rental place of COURSE he upgraded to a Mercedes - but none of it interested me. No literally. Like none of it. My parentals have a Mercedes and it's a nice car and all - but meh. Shit like that doesn't work on me - I come from it. It's like so what. It was his happiness for what he did, and this unshakeable confidence that attracted me. When he walked into a room, you might not have noticed initially - but you were left completely stunned by what he was able to do, and you wanted more. He was just one of those. There was something special about him, I can't describe it. 

He wasn't commercially speaking the most attractive person in this world, but I remember picking him up one time at the airport and he literally took my breath away. It was just this feeling of - wow. He had it. Whatever that "it" is. 

So, we had a wicked time in Florida ... and back he went on his adventures. He said he had to go to Jamaica (remember that tidbit) for a performance, and a wedding. Super cool. Was totally jealous, always wanted to go.

I actually had a shoot the weekend after he left, and I used him as inspiration- even posted it on Facebook:

How disgusting is that. Like seriously? Tell me that's not the face of a chick that is SERIOUSLY in love.

Oh shit ... I feel it coming ....

Crazy. 

At the time, I had been wanting to go back to LA (as I was commercial modeling in Florida for about 7 months), so I used him as the best excuse to head back home. I asked him if I could crash at his place for a bit while I got back on my feet looking for an apartment with a girlfriend of mine, and he had no problem with it. Of course as any chick knows, that was just a rouse to get my foot in the door. I was only 25% serious about wanting to get a place with my friend. I just really wanted to be around this human being, and I can't help but go after everything that I want in life.

We moved in together (again, a bit under false pretenses. my b), and I'm not even kidding you, I was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. He gave me this escape from what I thought I knew about life to something that I constantly wanted to question. I wanted more! We talked at great lengths about the universe, and what consciousness is ... amazing. He would run all of these tests on me, asking when I touched my hair, what was I thinking? I used to be a constant fiddler - so this went on for a very long time. I could tell he was taking an inventory of my emotions and my response to stimulants, but I just didn't care. I found the fact that he could figure me out super sexy; it certainly kept me honest knowing that I couldn't tell a lie (which of course I tried a few times, and was immediately called out on).

I asked him all of the time if we were boyfriend/ girlfriend - but he kept insisting that he didn't want to label what we had. *cough cough BULLSHIT* He didn't even position it that way, it was just more of a "let's see how things go" type scenario. I, at the time, adored labels. I kept saying over and over that I didn't want to keep introducing him to my friends as just a friend - I wanted a relationship. I said I can't even look at another guy - let's make a go at this. Yeah, cardinal rule #1 in life, don't ever pressure dudes for anything ... ever. He brushed it off ... and brushed it off ... til eventually I gave up asking.

I had won a settlement in a lawsuit a few months earlier, (in 2007 I lost everything I owned in a massive cockroach infestation. Can't talk about it per the settlement I signed, but it was a nice lil' chunk of change) so I didn't have to go immediately into a job search or anything. I was honestly learning as much as I could about the social space while at the time feeling completely consumed with this head to toe love that I felt. He was pretty savvy when it came to business, so he and I would sit there and really get off on talking about business and how I can help his career etc. I can't be with a guy that doesn't LOVE what he does. I knew the web, the social space, and can edit videos, so I offered to help him as much as possible.

After a few weeks, he came back from the pool one day and said that we were going to have some visitors. Visitors? Oh peppermint patty. Alrite, I can deal ... a little weird I thought since it was a 1 bedroom apartment, and not exactly a spacious one. Where the hell are they going to sleep? The living room, he piped up! He got out this queen sized air mattress, and low and behold later that evening, there were 2 girls that started to live in the living room. He had told me that they were in town for a few weeks from England, and had been kicked out of their hotel room. He felt bad for them and wanted to take them in. It didn't help that both of these chicks were serious hotties. I mean - wow. Total Betties.

I was honestly never intimidated by just how hot these chicks were (it's LA, hot girls are a dime a dozen), because after the first night of kicking it with them - they were so effin rad. Super sweet girls with the cutest English accents in the world. Like literally, we are all still besties on Facebook.

It was pretty much common knowledge in the house that the mentalist was off limits. I can be a pretty kinky bitch and all, but not when it comes to anything within a living situation. I am INCREDIBLY black and white about non-sexualness that goes on with roomies. Not going to happen, ever.

I asked them all about their life on the other side of the pond, and we bonded and gabbed like any 3 chicks living in a 1 bedroom apartment would.

The mentalist loved touting to his friends that he had all of these chicks living in his apartment. He totally got off on having a harem of sorts. Mind you, for me, if this was his little version of the Playboy Mansion, at least I got to be his number 1 - I slept in his bed.

This guy wasn't romantic - at all. He wasn't even particularly nice to me, yet I always brushed it off because at that point I couldn't help the fact that I was in love. (This part is so embarassing to write, you all have no idea - I cannot believe I let someone treat me that way.) He would tease me for dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld, or by sitting on Mashable morning, noon, and night. He literally used to just say, why don't you marry Pete Cashmore - you're on that damn thing so much. You and your social media!!!!! He teased me pretty much relentlessly, but I would always smile and just sort of brush it off. Dude, I grew up with an older brother - if anything I processed it more as a term of endearment. Very sad, but very true.

Sex with him however, was literally the best I have ever had in my entire life. We were anatomically very compatible. In fact, he gave me my first orgasm from intercourse. My body CRRAAVVEEEEDDDDDD him, and he turned me on to sex in ways that I didn't know my body could be turned on. I even at one point broke his bed, hahahaahahaahhaha!! That was fun!!!! (Like literally - I busted a support beam in the middle while I was on top and the whole bed just went BOOOOMMMMM) Again, it honestly had way less to do with anything he did in a physical sense, it was more of the fact that I had never loved someone like I loved him. Oxytocin and endorphins pumping through your body make you a bloody idiot.

All while experiencing my summer of bliss, my grandmother was in the final stages of her life. My family was an absolute wreck over it. I didn't know how to process this 24/7 doom and gloom of talking to my family and then this UNBELIEVABLE high from being in love. I did the only thing I knew to do ... I escaped into my bliss. Wrong, yes. Do I regret it? Kind of. There were CERTAINLY way better ways to handle the situation than completely just close up emotionally to my family. Like literally, screaming matches with my parents were a weekly thing. They didn't understand what I was doing, why I was treating them like that ... that in and of itself is an entirely separate story - and doesn't have anything to do with this, but the timing was also something to note. He actually encouraged me to talk to my parents, and continuously work things out. We talked about it all the time, he just kept saying, they're your parents - you have to be there. I couldn't deal. Emotional stability, at that time, was not my friend, as was evident from the time I threw my phone across the courtyard. (Yay the Voyager for surviving that one with just a few scratches! Muy impressivo!)

An emotional escape artist dating a professional escape artist. HA! Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Now are you starting to get why I am so insistent on life being so reflective? Kinda makes sense now? eh? eh? eh?

My parents threatened to come out on a plane multiple times to "knock some sense into me" - little did they know though, that he was in their corner. That's the truth! I just needed my own space, needed my own time to breathe. Again, worst. timing. ever. But everything for a reason, and I am still working on repairing our relationship which is all I can do at this point. 

Alrite, I am going to take a breather here. The next bit of the story gets incredibly. incredibly. incredibly intense. It involves the English girls going home, two more girls from Minnesota moving in, a girl who baked brownies, and the blowjob that would change my life.

Again, this isn't about airing out dirty laundry on this duderino. This is just my side of the story, which is why I'd never publicly release his name - it's not my style. I very literally cannot move on with my OKC experiment until I emotionally release this individual from my life. I thought I had, but clearly based on my experiment's findings - I have a ways to go. It's amazing when you're naturally a busy worker - I can DRRROOOWWNNNNNNN myself in work. Fuck, because of this dude, I launched an entire brand with the energy I had for our relationship. That certainly says something ... but I still have to process the emotions behind it. It's the only way.

I ask as a favor to the community for comments, tweets, whatever to be INCREDIBLY gentle. These are very raw wounds I am exposing, and I am incredibly embarrassed by how fucking stupid I was regarding this individual ... but its a part of life, and this is my next doable action.

Thanks so so so much for reading. You have no idea how good it feels to just let these feelings out.

xoxo #nerdsunite

Click here to read the next installment