#Fact: Paybacks aren't always a b!tch

Back in October, I gave a TedX talk in Normal, Illinois ... 

At the after party for the conference I met a college student by the name of Isaac Dallas (SUCH a great name). He said how big of a fan he was, and within five minutes of talking, I could tell that in 10 years the roles would be reversed. We exchanged information, and a few months later, my company DropIn, Inc. wanted to throw the first insurtech event in Silicon Beach. I reached out to long time friend Kevin Winston of Digital LA, and he said we could do it as long as we have an insurtech investor, startup, and tier 1 insurance company represented. Not a problem, I thought knowing I could hit up my buddy Ben Way, but a tier 1 insurance company? This might be tough. 

I then remembered Isaac (who mentioned that he worked at State Farm), and low and behold with two emails and a phone call, State Farm agreed to present. (Something they are notoriously known for not doing.) 

Because of Isaac the event was a huge success  ... 

As a thank you, our company flew Isaac out to LA to attend. As I walked him from the office to the corporate apartment (where he was going to stay), he said I can't thank you enough for all your help. (I had also connected him to the founder, Louis Ziskin, who wound up funding his entire seed round for his new VR company.) 

I turned and said, "you don't have to thank me - just remember this moment, and when you have the opportunity to do this for someone else, please do." 

I had no idea three months later I would be eating my own words. 

Last week, I got a text from my girlfriend asking if I was going out of town anytime soon. (She loves watching Buster, my dog.) Not for another few weeks, I texted back, but why don't I bring him by your place? She lives near one of my favorite restaurants in the valley so I knew I could schedule a meeting and kill two birds with one bone. Done, she texted back. 

I got to her place around 7pm, and as I was walking in, she said she forgot something at the office but would be right back. Not a problem, I said as I got Buster settled with his food and water dish. 

He then climbed up on her couch (she approves of him doing so), and I sat down next to him. Forgetting my kindle at home, I grabbed my phone and pulled up safari. YESS!!! I said remembering that I had fallen asleep the night before watching Dr. Pimple Popper ... 

15 super productive sebaceous cysts later, I heard a scream come from outside. Buster and I turned in unison.

As we looked out her big bay window, I saw this petite woman being chased by this very thin man or woman (I couldn't tell). At first it seemed playful, but seconds later the thin wo/man forcibly grabbed the suitcase she had been rolling. Both parties then darted into traffic (during rush hour). Realizing I was witnessing a robbery of some kind, I grabbed my cell and dialed 911. 

Shockingly, I got right through to an operator. I very calmly began to describe what I was seeing with as many details at possible.

He or she is wearing a blueish-green cloth on their head, with a red plaid shirt and red pants. OMG, I shouted, they are trying to get into a stopped Jeep Cherokee. They've opened the passenger door, but the car is speeding off. They are in traffic, I shouted in a non-calm manner!!

Horrified at the visual of an IRL game of frogger, I pressured the operator to have the police HURRY!

 

"Someone is going to get hurt! S/he is chasing her through rush hour traffic!" The woman then pulled on more stopped car doors, but each one would speed away. (Can't say I blame them. Without the full picture, they wouldn't have known that the woman was truly in need.) 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the wo/man stopped chasing the other woman. She casually and confidently rolled the suitcase down the sidewalk like nothing had happened. 

She's walking east and crossing the street, I told the operator. 

What's she doing now? she asked. 

She's stopping. North side of the street, adjacent to an empty parking lot. She's now opening the suitcase and taking out the woman's belongings. She's throwing them everywhere. 

Where is the woman? asked the operator. 

She's on the other side of the street. She finally flagged down a car, a black Cadillac.  

A helicopter then arrived, as the operator said "we have visual confirmation of the activity." 

Undeterred, the wo/man then bolted from her side of the street and began charging towards the woman.

"She's chasing her again, I shouted!!" 

Ma'am, officers are on their way. 

YOU SENT A HELICOPTER, I shouted. WE NEED SOMEONE ON THE GROUND! (I love how I'm telling the 911 operator how to do her job. Good work, Friel!) 

The woman then tripped over something in the road and the wo/man proceeded to grab the back of her head while smashing it into the pavement. 

As descriptive as possible, I relay the graphic details to the operator. Seconds later, officers finally arrived as a crowd began to gather to help the now injured woman. 

The wo/man was then placed in handcuffs. 

"Do the officers have the right person in custody?" the operator asked. 

Yes, yes I said, relieved. 

Thank you for calling, said the operator. Next, we need you to give a statement to one of the officers. 

Not a problem, I said hanging up the phone. 

The entire ordeal lasted six minutes. 

A very long six minutes. 

I then ran downstairs and out the door grabbing only my cell. I texted my gf to let her know about the police activity, and that everything is fine, but traffic might be backed up. As I clicked send, I looked down at the time and realized I was also going to be late for dinner. I texted my colleague ... 

As I approached the officers, they had (what I could now tell was a woman) standing by the side of the cop car still in handcuffs. You didn't need to give a field sobriety test to know this woman was ABSOLUTELY out of her mind. She was high as a kite, and deliriously unaware of what was going on. My heart hurt in that moment, because it's such a sad situation. Here is this woman that you can tell lives on the streets, is more likely than not mentally ill and uses drugs to self medicate. This random woman was just walking down the street IN BROAD DAYLIGHT and had a rolling suitcase that caught her eye. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a sad situation all around. 

The officers then began speaking to some of the witnesses. As I stood there, I wondered where the other woman went? 

I then crossed the street as I saw her alone, collecting her belongings. Oh hell no I thought, you should NOT be doing that.

I ran over calmly asking if I could help. 

"Why didn't anyone call the police? No one helped me!" 

"I did call, I said. I saw the whole thing, and narrated it to the 911 operator. I came down here to give a statement." 

You called?? Thank you so much! she said, still obviously in shock. 

I could see the welt on her head, and open wound. Let's get you to the hospital, I said grabbing the last of her things. 

Confused, she looked up and said "do you think I should have used my pepper spray?" 

Not wanting to upset her with the obvious YES BITCH, I spoke in a soft voice and said, "you did the best that you could in that moment. You survived and that's all that matters." 

We then walked back across the street where the officers were still taking statements. 

I then realized that this woman is going to go through the same thing I went through five years ago when I was hit in the head with the brick; I could help keep her calm by explaining what was going to happen. 

"I'm not 100% sure if this is still the case, but make sure you get all the medical attention you need. Head wounds are very serious, and the state of California has a fund that if you're the victim of a random act of violence, they will pay your medical expenses up to $65,000. You can even get reimbursed if you have to move, or require any therapy." 

In my case, it took almost a month for the Victim's Advocate Department to contact, and since I didn't have insurance, I did go to the emergency room (where I received four staples in my head) but stupidly, I tried taking them out myself (not wanting to pay for yet another medical bill). 

DUMBEST.DECISION.I.HAVE.EVER.MADE.

I did it stone cold sober too - so painful. so so painful. I didn't know her situation, but wanted to make sure she didn't try to do the same. 

"How do you know all of this, she asked?"

"Let's just say, I've gone through something similar." I continued, "you're going to wake up with the worst headache you've ever had in the morning, and depending on the severity of your concussion it could take months before you fully feel 'back to normal.' Just take it easy, and know I'll be there to testify." 

<tangent> Looking back on all the adventures experienced with Talk Nerdy, there were two instances where I legitimately could have ended up dead and or severely, severely hurt. (Which is hilarious because the two events happened when I had a home again, and wasn't couch surfing.) The first was when I was drugged at a bar (ironically called Happy Endings). I was handed a shot (that I did not see poured), and the last thing I remembered was putting my bag around my chest, blinking and waking up on the floor of my bathroom 12 hours later in a pool of my own vomit. One of my twitter followers happened to see me leaving with two guys and another girl. He said he knew me to the guys, and said "Jen doesn't go home with guys from the bar." He grabbed me and apparently I was conscious enough to tell him where I lived, without having any recollection of it the next day. The second time was the brick, and thankfully I got hit EXACTLY where I did. Had it been ten feet forward or ten feet back, I'd be dead. I had a severe concussion from the injury, and I was wearing all black early evening in January. (Funny the similarities in the stories.) Had it not been for the Russian hair salon owner that not only chased the guy down, but actually showed up to testify, the guy would have gotten away and been able to repeat offend. As is, he already had a felony warrant out for his arrest. </tangent> 

 The officer then approached asking for my statement. I started off by saying, "at first, I thought they were friends of some kind playing." The woman then cut me off -

"You thought we were FRIENDS?! She's black, I'm Chinese." 

My whiter than white girl face froze, unsure of how to react. I continued, "but then I saw the woman in red take her suitcase and chase her through traffic." 

It took less than 10 minutes to describe what happened with the same consistency and details as the 911 call. He thanked me for helping, and said I should receive a subpoena in a few weeks. "It's very helpful in these situations for the victims to have a witness attend." 

"You don't have to ask twice," I said to the officer smiling. "I'll 100% be there."

I never asked for the woman's name, nor did I give her mine. I happened to be the right person, at the right time and was capable and calm enough to be able to provide an eye witness account. (Even if my eyes could barely believe what they were seeing.)

It was the least I could do, and surprisingly paybacks aren't always a bitch. I arrived to dinner a half hour late, and as I sat down, my girlfriend Stephanie said, "you are the perfect person to have a blog. Your stories are so incredible!" 

"Thank you, I said. It's at least comforting to know I'll have a long, long, career in content creation." 

#nerdsunite 

#NerdsUnite: We're back ... (oh & I turned down an orgy, threesome, and wound up on a "non-date" featuring knife throwing)

Wow. First and foremost, hi. It's been a while, and I guess you can say we are on trend of "everything old being new again" ... 

<tangent> Speaking of old, when I started Talk Nerdy, I literally had $10 to my name for an entire year as I bartered social media to live. Having $10 to your name means I couldn't afford hosting for this website. Instead of freaking out about it, I reached out to Squarespace, told them what I was doing, and they offered lifetime hosting. Seven years later, they clearly no longer offer that package as it bleeds to a 404, and won't let me upgrade the site without a full reboot (which may or may not happen). I kinda like how horribly designed this is now. Proof is in the pudding that things don't have to be perfect to still have an impact. 

</tangent> 

As you guys may or may not know, we were bought back in 2015 by CBS (after a four way bidding war with NBC, CBS, ABC, and FOX). Pretty exciting, but as with everything else in this story - SO much more involved than I ever could have imagined. 

I'll update everything in its own post, but for now, let's get caught up on the last couple of weeks. 

Here's the song that goes with the post (they played this in my spin class on Saturday and it's so hauntingly beautiful) ... 

I didn't realize it at the time, but "walking away" from Talk Nerdy in 2013 was one of the best decisions I have ever made. It didn't mean it was easy, but five years ago, I hit what I deemed "professional success" and nothing felt the way that I thought it would. Instead of throwing a pity party for myself, I decided to do something about it. Did I think for a second it would lead me to an island on the other side of the country? No. That's what's great about life, you never know what's next. I was CONVINCED I was finally going to get married and have babies (I moved there for a guy), not once but TWICE. While both relationships are something I hold very dear to my heart, I knew I wasn't professionally fulfilled. I needed more, and as much as I loved the island, I was ready to head back to dry land. 

<tangent> I love how people in LA think btw. I can't begin to tell you how many guys I've been out on dates with have asked, "Oh - an island. You mean being isolated within your own state of mind?" 

No, I've said. I mean literally an island in the state of Florida. 

</tangent> 

After living in LA for just shy of 10 years, I didn't think anything about coming back (after ghosting for 2.5 years). I assumed I would go back to my old "Talk Nerdy" lifestyle, and I couldn't have been more wrong. After unlocking the "intimacy" achievement, I was unable (or unwilling) to move anywhere but up. 

The first 18 months back were a product of said "uppage." I don't know how to describe it other than the feeling of going through an "emotional puberty." I started seeing in real time my own motives behind conversations, relationships, and the reality of how insignificant a lot of things (I thought I placed value in) actually were/ are.

Remember when you were 12, and as you started to develop "womanly curves?" You know how awkward you began to feel around adults because you could actively feel them staring at parts of your body you didn't have the year before?

It's like that, but in reverse; I was the one noticing the change, and I immediately became very protective of myself. It was one part letting go of a lot of shit that never belonged to me, one part stepping into the person I hoped I was, and one part telling all the other parts of myself to shut up because I overthink WAY too much. 

We're so hilariously insignificant and you can let that upset you, or liberate you. 

Knowing all of this is one thing, doing something about it is has been yet another leg of the journey. 

With the previous version of "success" under my belt, I've spent the last few months out of "emotional puberty," and more focused than ever to get EXACTLY what I want. Every day, I ask myself what my goals are (personally and professionally) and put myself in check to see if my actions are in line with said goals.

A big goal of mine is to get married and start a family. What is one way to get married and start a family? You get off your ass and put yourself out there. As per usual, guys (and girls) came and went (pun intended), and I (yet again) found myself getting frustrated with the process. 

<tangent> Bee tee dubs, clearly I am not going to marry "just anyone." If I'm this picky about a guy I'm dating, you can imagine how picky I am going to be if I do ever end up getting married. </tangent> 

Same conversations and same song and dance over and over. You spend six months trying to get to know someone only to have to wait another six months to get to know the REAL them, only to have discovered that you've now wasted a year with a person you never really liked. 

All of this was cute at 22, it's now not so cute at 32.

I've intermittenly dated here and there, and even began asking guys that I've dated to set me up with their friends, since they genuinely had glowing reviews (it was merely bad timing for one reason or another). After the last blind date setup, I decided it was time to hang up my dating shoes. It was by no means a choice to "give up," but an understanding that anytime I've ever sought one thing - I've gotten another.

Again, thought I was getting married and having babies not once but twice. Wound up ON A FUCKING ISLAND selling not one but two projects. 

Now, I've developed a routine that I genuinely enjoy. I work, workout, rise and repeat. I spend my nights (that I'm not working) in a onesie watching movies and sipping wine or smoking pot with Buster (el dogarino). I've redecorated my apartment, and because I've mostly stopped texting people back - my life had (I thought) mellowed quite a bit. 

Two Fridays ago, I got a text from someone named S&K ... 

Who or what is an S&K, I thought before quickly going ... OOOOHHHHH!!! 

Remember the couple who introduced me to the orgy scene? Well, that's them. If I'm a keeper of any of your secrets, I code you in my phone so if its ever stolen and you text, people won't know who you are. In the first orgy email, they said we didn't have to use our names, we could just use initials; I clearly take roleplaying seriously. 

I messaged back ... 

See S&K were two guys who wanted to have a DP of the For-Real (that's me, for those who are new). I've never had a threesome before with two guys, so two years ago the newness interested me. Unfortunately (or fortunately) the guys could only meet during the day, at like noon in West Hollywood. They wanted me to hang out by the pool, have a couple of drinks, and "chill." (And by chill, they mean putting their penises inside places that require a special "assistant" when explored by a male doctor.)

I'm all for a good nooner - but do you know the level of commitment it takes to prepare for something like that? And the aftercare? I don't have time to uh, "get ready" and then uh, lubricate certain parts only to then spend the rest of my afternoon in a meeting with my co-workers wondering why I'm glowing ... and smell nice ... yet sitting so ... so ... awkwardly. 

I have SO much more respect for myself!
(... which is why I only do those things at night, silly goose!)

A few hours later, I left work, and grabbed an uber to head to happy hour at El Compadres with my friends. On the way over I scrolled through my phone and had a change of heart with one of my contacts. 

See, I went out on a first date on Valentines Day with this guy Brent who had in his profile that "danger was literally his middle name." That part I thought was kinda corny, but what I did think was cool is that he's a writer and lives in a van to support his content driven lifestyle. We had a great time, but because he travels all over we hadn't talked since. 

I texted him back ... 

I didn't peep his insta story, but the next day (during one of the few moments of time I had to sleep), I got another text ... 

STFU, I thought. You mean the Women in Vaudeville show at the Bob Baker Marionette theater that I sent a company wide invite out for (due to one of our colleagues participation in the production)???

I texted back ... 

I wanted to fuck with him and wear one of my chalboard hats with I <3 Jeptha on it (my colleague), but I was having a quasi good hair day so decided not to. 

<tangent> HAVE YOU SEEN THESE THINGS?! They're magical in terms of marketing. This is not a paid affiliation, btw. I'm just a huge. huge. fan! 

THE HAT WORKS TOO WELL!! AND IS WAY MORE EFFICIENT THAN ONLINE DATING!! </tangent> 

Before the show, I felt a tap on my back and it was my Valentine. 

Hi, I said as we hugged and followed up with pleasantries. 

This place is kinda creepy, he admitted. I know I'm a little stoned ... 

I cut him off. You have the pot? I want the pot, I said excited. 

He then passed his vape pen, as I went outside and puff puff passed to my uh, self. 

I quietly snuck back into the theater, and rejoined my non-date. The show began moments later, and the host Lindsay announced that she was going to start with her finale (featuring knife juggling). High as a kite, I just kept thinking oh dear god please do not pick me from the audience ... oh dear god oh dear god ... 

As the host walked over to the crowd she reached behind and grabbed my non-date. 

WHEW, I thought cheering him on grabbing my phone to take photos and videos (because who was going to believe this happened without it) ... 

The show was ABSOLUTELY incredible, and if you get a chance they're doing another one next month. Highly highly recommended (pun intended). 

After the show, I bid my non-date adieu and went home to snuggle with Buster. 

So what's next now that I'm not "actively" dating? 

Well for one, I'm really really excited that I'm finally learning how to cook. I just signed up for Home Chef and am SUPER pumped to test it out. 

Oh, and did I mention that there's not one but two tv shows? Another bidding war. Three networks, and they already have a brand sponsor attached. I'll know more in a few weeks, but it's pretty exciting because it's a show I would genuinely watch. (This one I'd actually be in with two of my friends which makes it SO much better.) 

Oh, and shhhhhhh, don't tell anyone, but here's the a sneak peek of Talk Nerdy's treatment ... 

I learned design working for DropInInc (out of frustration due to designers being so expensive and then leaving because we're a startup and startups pay dilly). I'm super super proud of how far the project has come, and will tell you all about the process in the next post. 

Buckle up nerderinos!! I have no idea what we are going to be in for, but one thing is for sure - its already been one hell of a journey. 

Thank you for everything. I can't wait to pay you all back. :) 

All my love and all my heart, you make me SO proud to type ... 

#NERDSUNITE

Oh and PS. I totally forgot that seven years ago when I created the twitter account for Talk Nerdy, I used an old SNL reference for the location ... 

P.P.S. To any of the old writers, or any n00bs that want to join ... shoot me an email!! jen at dropininc dot com or jenfriel at talknerdytomelover dot com. This is just a soft launch for now, but over the next couple of weeks we are going to fully ramp back up. Would LOVE to hear from you!! xx 

#Fact: I may be a woman, but I don't have to roar

I watched the Other Woman with my parents yesterday. (Talk about being secure in your manhood on Father’s Day going to see a movie like that with your daughter and wife.) In the past, like most women, I would have enjoyed the 90 minute escape into a feminine cliche - but to be honest, it made my heart hurt. Not because of the plot, or the acting (Leslie Mann is positively divine), but for the projected fantasy that we all (culturally) absorb as reality. 

I take my part in responsibility as a writer and working in media in general, but I can also admit to myself, and to my own reality that it’s (pardon the blunt terminology, but sometimes there is just no better way to say it) bull shit. 

I stared at these beautiful women on the screen (the cast consists of Kate Upton, Cameron Diaz, and Leslie Mann) and as lines like “together we are the perfect woman. What more could he want?” poured from their mouth I just face palmed my own life and simultaneously wanted to enter the screen and smack common sense into each of the characters. (I do not condone violence of any kind, but I’m going to assume that I don’t have to say that.) 

I have spent exactly one year now on an island with a four digit population. Coming from a decade living in a 7 digit population to say it was shocking is a gross understatement. I left LA for a relationship, and genuinely believed that in life up until that point I had "it together." Life was like Lionel Richie on a Sunday morning ... 

... I had a gorgeous man that I loved, and a website that I was proud to have built.

Love life? Check. 

Career? Check. 

Within a matter of days the house of cards called a life I had built started to fall one by one. I thought I was so hard-core because I was without a home for a year, but there were no brown recluses, lizards, sharks, or snakes. I couldn’t even put a shrimp on a fishing line, or put my head in the ocean without shaking from head to toe. When I slept in the car, I slept in Venice. Have you seen Venice, CA? It’s pretty awesome. While I was genuinely stupid for putting myself in harms way so many times, my accommodations were more than satisfactory by anyone’s standards.

Within months of my arrival, I found myself without a boyfriend, a website I didn’t know what to do with now that morally things had shifted, and quickly fell into a deep depression. To say this four digit population kicked my @ss is an understatement. 

Break ups really suck, but one thing I was determined to do was not give up. I knew in my heart I needed to stay where I was, (which I thought initially was insane, I’m not going to lie) and for the first time I had to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. I was presented with a freedom of no labels, and it scared the daylights out of me.

When I had first moved, I purposefully wouldn’t say my full name (knowing people would want to add you on Facebook). I always introduced myself as “so and so’s girlfriend” or “Jennifer.” I didn’t have anything to hide, but out of respect for him, it took away having his friends read about my past escapades. I was now without the label of girlfriend, and now without the persona I had built. I've consciously never felt so vulnerable in my entire life. I cried for days, weeks, (and I’m not ashamed to admit) a few months. My neighbor used to ask me if I was okay, and I would always take a moment to pause wondering if he had heard me listen to “Nobody wants to be lonely” on repeat. (I sincerely wish I was kidding.) Never trust someone you share a wall with - they know everything. 

All that I knew in my heart from every other time I had been this depressed was that everything was one foot in front of the other, and that I needed to get out of my head as much as possible. My only friend at that time, volunteered at the local church once a week, so we quickly turned it into a routine. 

I never told a soul what I did, or even my full name. Not that anyone anywhere would have even cared, but I just did whatever needed to get done and helped out however I could with two working arms and legs. I didn't need to tell stories, and I didn't need to be the loudest person in the room. I. Just. Shut. Up. and did what I was told, or saw needed to get done.

I then got back to the gym (for socialization and sanity), and within a few months I was stopped by a gentleman after class. I've been asking around town about you, he started, while mentally at that point I had cut him off wondering who even knew who I was? (And to get all philosophical, did I even know?!? I'm so confused?!!!) I was happy to hear he was very complimentary, but it all caught me by surprise. I'm not doing anything here, I thought. I don't understand how people can know so much. (That's the thing about small towns, you can't help but bump into people everywhere. Even if you don't see them, if you know someone's car - you're genuinely going to see them driving on the one road in and out of town. It's not rocket science.) 

Somewhere between there and here, things have started to come into focus. I don't know exactly where the shift occurred, nor can I speak of my progress - but one thing I am filled with is gratitude (genuinely). I realized that while my experiences are there, I am not them, they are merely gifts.

Those gifts allowed empathy.

Through empathy came the beauty of compassion. 

Through compassion, my heart has opened up even more to recognize my own worth and value - which in turn has become a valuable commodity to gentlemen. (Remember my point in this long winded story? Yeah, it was about women longing for a guy.) 

I've wanted to be with someone for so long, but until I was able to (at least I think) experience a shift - I couldn't ever be in a sustainable, healthy relationship.

<tangent> I say all of this very humbly, btw, documenting anything in real time completely freaks me out now, but I know in my heart this is a message that I need to deliver. I am just the messenger. </tangent> 

It is the quiet confidence that you don't need to speak of, and you might not even be aware that you have it - but people see it, and immediately respect you. Life becomes less of a "fighting battle" and more of a surrender. The irony is, in the surrendering process I couldn't feel less vulnerable.

There is never going to be a Mr. Big, Romeo, or Maverick to ride off with in the distance. There is only going to be a woman who has a choice to speak with grace, carry herself with dignity, and smile on the inside knowing that her greatest secrets are kept close to her heart until they are whispered with a side of monogamy. 

I was seeking archetypes in media to create my own reality, which is a lot like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I kept searching and searching, and while I had my share of pricks - it was more time and energy than it was worth. I am a woman, and I don't have to roar - just being is enough. 

#kthxbye

#Dating: 103 dates in 9 months meets @OneHundredDates

I got an email the other week from a gentleman that I went out on a "date" with a few years back. (I use that term loosely but explain why a bit further down.) It is with a heavy heart that I share this. I'm not embarassed by it, but facing the reality of the way I have been living my life hasn't been easy.

Click here to read the "Video Chat Date" on 100Dates.com by Evan Barden

First off, thanks Evan for writing that, and thanks so much for your email. For one, it was cool getting to go back two years in time and remember everything Evan mentioned. That whole self-reflection thing while still in that same frame of reference (at least in my experience) was complete BS. You can’t learn what your lesson is until you know whatever it is you’ve signed up for.

Life just keeps moving - keeps happening to us. You can’t tell it to pause while you reflect and write a post. It’s varying degrees of, pardon my French, (which I said to my mother this morning, why do we always have to blame the French?) a shit show. 

<tangent> Forgive me if this is incorrect, Evan, but I believe we met somewhere in Boston back filming for Vidblogger Nation? Then, you were telling me about your journey with the improv troupe, and how you wanted to launch this site. (Which congrats on doing so, btw!)

I can still remember details/ stories of just about everyone I have met while launching this site. I don’t know if that’s creepy on my end, or if I was truly that lonely and held onto the memories as if they were something more. (Not in a manner to discredit, I’ve absolutely had the time of my life - but as far as what I had said I was seeking, it all lacked fulfillment.)  Jury is out. Back to session ... </tangent> 

Two, it was nice to see how certain aspects have changed. You’re never too busy to take time and speak to someone. In my mind, I had allocated x amount, and boom - it was over. My concept/ value of time spent with company was as shallow as my mentality. 

I apologize to you for that hour, Evan. 

Not to say that I could have been anything different, but as a lack of commitment on my part to what I had acknowledged our time as being - a date. 

I don’t just jump into things like I used to - I take a moment and assess what exactly is happening, but then most importantly, myself. Am I the absolutely 100% the best candidate? Can I recommend anyone else - someone better suited? What are the needs and how much can I commit? How much is required, and I can honor that?

I was asked to take on a leadership role this week, and I’m not kidding you when I say I freaked thinking, there has to be someone better. Am I doing this for all the right reasons? I called the woman who had been in the position for the last 10 years the next day and said to her, if you believe I am the right person then I have to trust that. She started laughing saying she had prayed and it was a “call" (no pun intended). All I had to do was answer the phone, listen, hang up, and do the job. I loved that. 

At the end of the day the internet provides an outlet into a virtual reality that is yours to create. You can say, or be whoever you want, (although social media does provide a degree of credibility) but at the end of the day you have to look in the mirror, or Facetime/ Skype and be happy with what you see. Very concrete, very simple.

In my experience learning to like what I saw in the mirror meant not only facing the reality of everything I was doing, but also forgiving myself, and instead of dwelling on it, take action, and decide for myself that I wanted to make a change. How could I possibly date or even be in a relationship until I started to deal with these things? 

Honor your commitment, honor your words, and honor your relationships. 

Life now is less appointment based and more Buster Brown (my dog). I spend my days not thinking but knowing that he is smarter than me, and not thinking but knowing that he is stronger than me. I tell myself I win most days when truly he is the one that lets me win. 

Thanks for this smile Evan, and keep on sharing that big heart of yours. xx 

#kthxbye

#YesAllWomen: A male's perspective

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @Saintpepsi

It's a little disheartening to think that any man can claim to know just what it's like to be a woman.

- To tell them to suck it up.

- To be more accepting of advances as they are really just compliments no matter how grotesque the pick up line might be.

- To assume that we have any measure by which to judge their experiences.

We are very different sexes.

In theory equality would be a fantastic ideal to achieve. In reality men will always be given a pass.

Rarely are we judged on our sexual actions, rarely do we fear walking home in the dark, rarely do we have to suffer cat calls and beratements based on our attire. Men as a whole sex have no idea what a girl goes through on a daily basis.  No matter what small inconvenience we may have suffered once. It is not something we have to live with everyday. We can’t wrap our heads around it, because it is not our reality. So we stay silent because we don’t know what to say. Some men will sympathize, but no man can empathize.  It would seem the only time men have something to say is when it comes to defending their honor. Because we are all honorable aren’t we. When women make broad sweeping statements about all men being some way. We react in hostility saying #NotallMen.

Even if you are blameless in your life for helping firmly establish misogyny. You are still reaping the benefits of that birthright you acquired between your legs. We as a sex have taken everything from women. Their right to choose their own medical plans, their right to walk without fear,the right to an opinion that goes against the commonly held beliefs, their last names, their trust and worst of all their faith in an equal society. Not only have men taken these things, they react in the most redundant way. Blaming either a period or assuming she’s just crazy. Because all women are crazy… Right!

If I had to walk in the shoes of a woman for a day I’d be insane too. A full attire for a man down to his underwear could cost less than 70 bucks 150 if you are dressing nice. For a girl double if not triple that. If I couldn’t leave the house without fear of being analyzed by every person I pass girl or guy based on how I looked I would be a little freaked out to leave my house. Just to meet standards given by an industry run by men. If I had to suffer strangers pushing through my personal bubble just to talk to me because they KNOW I must be so interesting only to win a number and high five some friends. A number I probably gave you so you would get the fuck away from me and I could go back to talking to my friends reminding myself to block or not answer any unknown numbers or people I saved in my phone as creepy guy 15. YES! 15 I have seen it in my friend’s phones. Not all Men are the problem, but you can be damn sure men are what keeps the inequality alive and well. I have had friends who were raped, sexually abused, and sexually taken advantage of even in relationships. Not a few. More than that. This entitlement that men feel they have to always get what they want is despicable. I have walked in those shoes before. I have wondered how could this woman not like me? I'm such a nice guy and other excuses for plain bad chemistry or even good chemistry. Where I am in total disbelief that she can’t see our friendship as more. Even if all she really wanted was a guy who saw her as a friend and not a sexual object. Seeing her with guys I assumed were douche bags. Why are they douche bags? She’s not with me and I want her. That’s why.  Why would I think these things? Why wouldn’t I wait and see if who I am matters more, than what I want.  It took me years to realize that I don't deserve any woman. They are not things to have or acquire like some sort of new toy. They are human beings pure and simple. They should be treated with the same respect given anyone.

I work part time as a bouncer and I can tell you the greatest difference between men and woman at the bar is how they enter. What are they looking for. While some girls desires may be sexual they are generally looking to be social, dance, experience life a bit with friends. Maybe even find a little romance. For men they come in as a predator right off the bat. Looking to satisfy an insatiable lust that needs something to devour. Even if they don’t come to the bars for that reason, the pressure to not leave alone compiles and by the end of the night you are making a drunken fool of yourself just to get a girls attention. Just remember to blame the alcohol.  Nightly I hear as I check ID’s, “So are there any hot girls here tonight.” With everyone’s standards of beauty so very different how am I to know what you are looking for. Even if they don’t ask me up front I will still see them walk in, look around, and then leave saying there aren’t any girls here. Not people they know, but strangers to prey. They come to get something and no matter how many times they strike out, they will fight on to find what they want. Men are the Mormons of the sexes. Knock on a enough doors and someone is bound to say yes.

Most of the girls that I see go home with random Joes do so out of sheer unwillingness to fight to stay or leave alone. It has become easier to accept a reality of misogyny than to fight back against it for fear of the tide of remarks that follow. Deny a man at the bar, you’re a bitch or a lesbian. Sometimes said to your face in an anger undeserved of a casual refusal. Other times said with in earshot so they can hear and know the mistake they made by not accepting this gentleman. I used air quotes when I said gentlemen. The problem will always be put at the feet of the woman. I actually had one girl tell me she gives guys a blow job just so they leave her house. Why does this work, how can we claim to be men if we don’t act like human beings. It’s not like girls don’t have a choice. Girls could get laid any night if they wanted to. Fact! Men are so driven to acquire that it’s far too easy to get a yes. Girls say no because they have been shamed into believing that if they allow their sexuality to show they will be called sluts by both sexes. Even the terminology is screwed up. Men who fuck around are players. All these arguments have been made time and time again. If I tell you a girl is a slut you would look at her differently, even if you don’t know her. If I told you a guy is a player even as a warning. There’s a cultural norm to almost praise him for his conquests.  

Look through the comments of any girls photos on facebook and witness them broken down into pieces of flesh. Cuts of meat with dollar signs attached to distinguish value. How can you fight against such a horrible reality, but to give in and assume this is the norm. That peer pressure and undaunted repetition will ultimately yield results. Knowing if it doesn’t, you will branded as a prude. It sickens me to see the anonymous nature of the internet breed more misogyny. With demeaning language thrown about to contort a woman into believing she is less than human, because she doesn’t meet an impossible standard. To sit in judgement of a woman for having not put on makeup for a trip to the grocery store. When Men are required to do nothing in prep for any event.  No you can’t say shave considering a girl has to shave half their body weekly. Heaven forbid a woman leaves the house without her mask. That’s really what it becomes though. A mask that all womankind must wear. Not because it is a choice they have been given, no it is requirement of society. Wear your makeup, and 4 layers of clothing on a hot summer day. to ward off the eyes of the unknown. So you don’t make it on some internet trolling site that snaps photo’s of girls to compare. Without permission or consent.  I have played the gentleman role, protector role, and guardian to girls just trying to make it home safe.  I have been there to hold my friend hands in fear. Hugged those taken advantage of.Through all this I will never know… truly know what it is like to be a girl. To be an object, not a person. Sadly, they will never know true peace. For a life lived in fear of the nonintellectual response by a group of unenlightened people is the assumed normal our society has to offer. I do not hate men, I hate what we have established and perpetuate.

#nerdsunite

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