<editorsnote>Hi, I'm Jen Friel, and we here at TNTML examine the lives of nerds outside of the basements and into the social media, and dating world. We have over 75 peeps that write about their life in real time. (Real nerds, real time, real deal.) Sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the stories!!</editorsnote>
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Fabio. Yes. Real name. We're friends in the digispace and he owns and blogs at the fantastically awesome site LetsTalkSex.net. He's here today to share one of his latest and greatest tips on sex, and I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT FABIO!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's Fabio Black
Question: Do you yawn every time you get an erection? So bored that you see sex like a shift without a lunch break? Would you rather study the biology of a Trochodendron Nastae than take off your clothes and have sex?
Stop right there. Slap your face. Harder. Hardeeer! :)
Let's play with awareness.
When you do the same routine over and over again, you lose awareness. You go into autopilot mode. It's like if your mind says: "All right I am not needed here, the body is gonna do it, I can think about beer".
Have you ever driven your car to work and found out that you got to your destination without even realizing it? You don't remember the details of the trip, you don't remember what was going on around you because your mind was thinking about your colleague's mini skirt and your body was driving the car unconsciously.
Now, imagine that one day you jump in your car, you take the same street as usual, but that day someone decided to do a public protest in the streets against boring sex ;) and there is a pretty damn big road block.
You will need to take a different and unexplored route.
What would happen? I bet you'd be very careful of the streets around you, you'd be extremely aware of this brand new environment. The same thing happens with sex. If you keep following the same routine over and over, you'll lose awareness, your sensations become numb, and the sex gets boring.
Go on diversion for one day. Explore new territories (a Jack Sparrow hat will certainly help): have sex in different rooms. Be flexible and creative. Instead of using the kitchen to eat and the bedroom to have sex, reverse the roles. If you, like most men, don't care that much about the quality of your sex because you just want to dunk the biscuit, that's ok, but remember that women are more sensitive and they love these things.
Nature wants to protect you, it wants you to survive. So when you are in an unexplored situation, it makes you more alert, more sensitive, that means you'll feel new and stronger sensations.
Some of the things you can try are:
Sex in the kitchen, on the table
On the floor in the corridor
Against the wall, or against the front door (the risk of being caught by the neighbors will surely make youmore aware)
In the bathroom in front of a mirror
On the bed upside down
In the fridge between the milk and the carrots :)
On a chair in the lounge room and so on.
And you know what else is gonna happen? When you're having sex in new unexplored places your usual positions will feel slightly different and even if you won't notice it (especially if you're drunk) she will (even if she's drunk) and she'll love it. (Note: I highly recommend you to wear some shining armour when trying these techniques in order to protect your back from her scratches.)
So, explore new areas of your house, and have sex in as many corners as you can. Cover every square meter of your house with <del>sperm</del> love.
Getting greedy? Wanting more and more and better and better sex? Like boobs? All right! You are in the right place! Fabio Black writes about sex, boobs and sex. But without too much focus on the boobs. Click here for more information.
So, today at 3PM EST (while at a Starbucks somewhere in the middle of the town of old people in Florida) I will be speaking on a panel on Huffington Post live re: online personalities and how people do not always appear to be who they say they are.
Well, technically speaking it wasn't meth but THC being extracted from weed that caused the explosion. Apparently this is a new "thing." So insane.
Friday marked a milestone in my life. For the first time, ever, I cooked for other people.
And not just a few people ... a dinner party for EIGHT!
I called my mom prior to ask for two of my favorite recipes.
You're calling ME for a recipe? She said on the phone laughing.
Yes, mother. I said.
Wow, you must be ready to make a change. This is a first.
I've lived on my own for 11 years and lived in Los Angeles in general for the last 9. Never once ... and I mean not ONCE have I called my mom asking for a recipe. Again, all of the women in my family are phenomenal cooks so why should I have ever messed with perfection? My job was to develop my own niche (which I did at age 2 when I started typing) and figure out what made me tick.
Either way, I am now at a stage in my life where if I wanted to get serious with a dude I'm sure some sort of cooking would be involved. Might as well learn now, I thought as I was writing out my dating detox list.
Friday afternoon I went to Trader Joes and picked up all my ingredients. To my surprise to feed eight, it only cost me $50! Check out what I got for that ...
Prep time is minimal explained my mom. 5 minutes or less for everything.
Great, I said back.
I then worked right up until my roommate got home before I finally began prepping everything.
Julie came over to look at the instructions.
I started laughing. Look, I didn't realize I wrote these out on the same page as info I was collecting for a project involving a helicopter rental. So random ...
<tangent> I write down all of my thoughts in one massive notebook. It takes me about a year to go through it, but this way I don't jot things down on an envelope or something and lose it. Everything is in order and is dated. Super efficient! </tangent>
Around 7, everything was set and ready to go in the oven. (The party was set to start at 7:30.)
Crap, I said to Julie, I forgot to get parking passes. (We live in a restricted area.) I gotta jet out to get some.
I then grabbed a hoodie (as it was raining) and RANNNNNNNNN down the street to grab the passes.
After a few moments, I noticed a helicopter appear above my head.
Weird, I thought, but it's LA. Whatever.
I then signed for the passes and walked back. At this point about 10 minutes had gone by and suddenly that one helicopter had become five.
In LA you MIIGGHHHTTT have an accident that would require 1 or 2 news crew helicopters. If there is a celebrity involved you MIIGGHHHTTT have 3, but 5?!?!?! FIVE?!?!! Are you kidding?!?!?! Mind you too, they were right over my head. Having marked the one year anniversary of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I was particularly sensitive about not having a repeat experience.
I finally get back in the house and tell Julie (and my buddy Steph who had also arrived) what I just experienced.
I feel like I just came back from war, I admitted. Between the rain, the people freaking out on the street, and the helicopters that was quite the experience.
What's going on? Julie asked. Steph and I were just wondering what all the helicopters were for.
Let's get on twitter and find out, Steph said.
Julie then pulled up WehoDaily's twitter account (which is amazing and hilarious for everything you ever need to know about West Hollywood) and right at the top of the page was a RT from someone claiming there was a meth lab explosion in their building a handful of blocks away from us.
No way, Julie said. This must be a joke.
A few more RTs came in re: the meth lab and we all started to freak. No WAY there was a meth lab down the street. shut. the. front. door.
The helicopters at this point were almost deafening.
My neighbor and buddy Amanda Coolong then knocked on the door.
What is going ON?! She said.
Apparently a meth lab exploded.
WHAT?! She said. That's nuts.
Come on in, I say to her helping her with her coat. I can't stay, she said. I just wanted to say hey. My friend brought another friend and I didn't want to impose with an extra guest (and he's a guy).
Girl are you KIDDING?! I said back. I'm an irish cook. You KNOW I made extra. The more the merrier!! Bring him!!
Are you sure? she said.
Of course!!! As long as he doesn't mind hanging around with all girls this evening.
I doubt he will mind, she said with a smile. Alrite, well let me go and at least get some wine.
Perfect, I said.
About a half hour later the rest of the party arrived along with my other friends.
I had held things over in the stove waiting for everyone's arrival. I lifted the chicken up taking my first sample to make sure everything was cooked alrite.
I took a bite, and FREAKED!!! Omg!! This is delicious!!
I then filled up everyone's wine (I drank agua) and served my friends.
For the first time in my life, I truly understood why my parents loved hosting so many dinner parties as a kid. There was something so viscerally appealing about being able to feed my friends and have them eat something I made.
I totally get why people do this, I thought. This feels GREAT!!!!
I waited an hour before posting on Facebook btw about people eating. I wanted to give myself extra time just incase anyone keeled over. I'm not kidding.
During dinner the topic of Ben Fold's chatroulette video came up. One of the guests hadn't seen it before.
Here, let me get my laptop, I said. It's a great vid.
I then set up my macbook pro on one of the chairs and youtubed the vid.
I had seen the video before, but the group started laughing collectively at the randomness that only Chatroulette could provide.
Three quarters of the way through the video, someone suggested getting on Chatroulette.
YES!!! I said. I haven't been on that site since it came out a few years back.
Who's game to see some penis? I asked the group.
All the girls screamed YES as the one guy remained silent.
(He was hilarious btw, and what a trooper to sit through girls night. We did NOT hold back!!! Topics ranged from dildos, to vibrators, boobs, and startups. Clearly.)
I then logged in, and come to find out Chatroulette now makes you create an account and impedes you from automatically going live on a webcam. You first have to have two 10 minute conversations before you are allowed to get on cam.
Alrite, fine, I said with the laptop on my lap. Let's just create the account.
It then instructed me to upload a picture.
What picture should I use? I asked the group.
I then saw on my desktop the picture of me and my boyfriend Walter ...
This is perfect, I said to the group.
We then logged in on a mission to have at least two 10 minute conversations just so we could get on cam and see some penis action.
Here was our first exchange ...
We couldn't stop laughing at all of the sexual plant innuendos ...
The group then started shouting out certain words I had to incorporate into the chat. We. Were. Dying. with how into these guys got.
After a few minutes, I realized we were somewhere around the 10 minute mark. Their platform didn't reflect our time spent, but I figured that was just because it's chatroulette and I highly doubt they care.
I then said bye to our first friend and refreshed the page to check our status.
I then pulled up this dude that had penguins as his default photo.
PENGUINS!!! I shouted to the room.
I then told the guy we were waiting for our second 10 minute conversation. At this point it was 10:11 and I asked if we could keep talking until 10:21.
Not a problem, he said.
Super sweet little dude. He's from Mexico and his biggest passion is soccer.
How awesome! I said.
Time went by pretty quickly and at 10:22 (I allocated an extra minute for any sort of computer error) I bid our penguin friend adieu and attempted to get on cam.
All of the girls gathered around at this point.
First up was this dude ...
He was hot but not on cam.
We were bored and wanted to see some penis.
NEXT!!!
Chatroulette now has a "drawing" option, so our next friend challenged us to a game of tic-tac-toe.
The buggar cheated. We weren't amused.
NEXT!
We were all pretty amazed at the variety of avatars users had selected.
WE ARE ON A MISSION THOUGH!!! I reminded the girls.
Must.
See.
Penis.
Aw, it's a girl. Who knew there were more of you on this site!!!
Penis though. Penis! Penis! Penis! NEXT!!!
Then we came to this dude, who not only read to us, but could do KILLER voice over impressions. Like SPOT ON!!!!
Do you have a youtube channel? I asked.
No, he said.
Why not? I pressed.
I don't know, he said.
Well, what do you do for a living?
I'm in law school, he said.
Is it your passion? I asked.
No, he said. I wanted to be a pilot.
Then why aren't you?
Because of my family. I have to have a job that pays well.
Do you have children or a wife? I ask.
No, he said. But I want to one day.
THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!! I exclaimed. You're sacrificing your passion for a family that you don't even have yet???
We then swapped Facebook info as I explained to him that we were on a mission to see a penis.
Good talking to you, and send me your youtube video when you make it.
Alrite, he said, then adding me as well on Facebook.
This guy wouldn't show his peen either!!! WTF?! I screamed to the group. Chatroulette used to be all about the penis spotting. This is making me terribly sad!!!
Kyle, the guy in the group, then chimed in.
In all my life I've never seen a girl work so hard to see a penis.
I AM ON A MISSION!!! I SCREAMED!!! I am going to make this happen!!!
Next up was this dude.
Lemme see your penis, I said without a single ounce of shame.
He started laughing.
I don't think you understand that I'm not kidding. I want to see your penis.
I then tried a different tactic switching to animal sounds to seduce the males ...
Rawwrrrrr ... Mooooo ... BBAAAHHHHH ... I said with a completely straight face.
My new friend didn't budge at all.
You're no fun, I said. NEXT!
I tried the same tactic again.
He was not impressed.
Let me see your tits, he said, in exchange.
I'm not flashing you, I said back. I don't think you understand the nature of our dynamic. I'm a girl on chatroulette, your purpose in this relationship is to show me your penis. You then get the gratification that a female has seen your penis for the evening and then we both move on.
I then made hand gestures involving an imaginary penis and my mouth.
I got nothing.
NEXT!!!
Again, with a completely straight face I asked this guy to show me his penis.
Come on, I cooed. Just a little. Take it out and show me.
He couldn't stop laughing at how serious I was.
At this point I had spent an hour on Chatroulette and decided to throw in the towel. I was extremely diasppointed but apparently they have cleaned up the social site. They now have an option to flag someone for being inappropriate and chatroulette has become more of a "meeting ground" for skype. All of the guys just kept trying to get us to get on skype. I don't get what this site has become!! What poor branding. At least if you are known as being the site for penises you should OWN IT and ENABLE THE PENISES!!!! Makes no sense to me and the platform in general is complete crapola.
No. freaking. bueno.
Either way ... the party then continued as we all gabbed the night away.
I can't remember a time I had so much fun, I thought. Great friends, good food ... this is beyond amazing.
Then around 12:30 the party started to die down and the girls that were spending the night decided to get in their PJs.
We then put on The Legend of Billie Jean and started cheering on the cult classic.
Sometime very late, I realized I could scratch off three items on my dating detox list if I continued to watch another chick flick before bed.
Make dinner for friends? DONE!
Girly slumber party? DONE!
Chick flick marathon? DONE!
I then popped on How to Lose a Guy in 10 days on Netflix as I fell asleep.
The next morning, I recovered by spending most of the day in bed, followed by finally dragging my lazy bones up and out and cleaning up the remains from the party.
I can't remember a night where I had such innocent fun. I feel so INCREDIBLY blessed to have such wonderful friends in my life, I thought.
I then worked the rest of the afternoon and took a spin class. On my walk back, I got a text from a buddy of mine asking to meet up. He's a pretty well known actor but has the WORST online reputation management I have ever seen.
I've done nothing with it, he said. I need to have some sort of presence.
Yes, yes you do, I said back. Meet me at the Surly Goat. 10:00.
Perfect, he texted back.
I then grabbed a cab over to the goat and scanned the room looking for my friend.
As I looked in one of the back areas, I saw this guy FLINCH when I looked past him.
Without making an obvious move that I recognized his freak out, I figured it must be someone that I dated. Deciding to be a bit more sly, I casually slinked off to the bar to wait for my friend but still remained in eye sight of the guy.
When he wasn't looking I peered over the crowd to see who it is.
We dated pretty intensely. I invited him out with me and my friends on a few occasions, and he was incredibly romantic.
I told him over and over for the months that we dated that I was a lifecaster and I documented my life on my website.
I know, he said.
No, but do you REALLY understand what that means? I pressed. Have you read my site at all?
I don't need to, he would say. I've glanced and it's all fine.
Well, come to find out, it wasn't fine. He blew me off twice when we were about to have sex. (He wanted to wait and make it special.)
After the second time, I had had enough. Blow me off once shame on you. Blow me off twice? Shame on me. I don't need this shiznat.
Either way, we didn't end things very well. I was angry at him for not listening to me when I told him OVER AND OVER what I did.
He said "this was next level." And not normal "blogging."
I normally leave things with people on a note that is amicable. I can't say enough kind things about the men I've dated. I've learned so much from each of them and am very grateful to have had the life experience.
This guy however, wasted my time. It frustrated me. I invested THREE MONTHS in something that if he took two seconds to just look at would have realized made him uncomfortable.
My friend arrived moments later.
I started laughing as I grabbed his arm telling him the story.
Is some dude going to kick my ass right now? he asked.
HA! No, I said. He's a smart guy, not a fighter.
I then realized that every dude under the age of 35 knows my friend. People come up to him NON-STOP anytime he's out, so the fact that the finance guy fit that bill made me laugh.
He's not only going to know who you are, but he's going to think this is a date. I am winning at a game I didn't even know I was in, I said.
My friend looked at me and said, you're insane, you know that right?
I KNOW!!! I said back, but this feels GREAT!!! I never get these moments.
We then spent the next few hours talking about his web presence.
I'm embarrassed for you, I said in an extremely blunt manner.
Is it that bad? He asked.
YES!!! I said. How can you not get on things like this? There are SO many things you could be doing.
It's just not my scene, he said.
I get that part, I explained.
We were then interrupted.
I just gotta say, man, I love you. Said the guy next to us who was making eyes at my bud the entire time we had been sitting.
He was extremely gracious (as always) but this only further proved my point.
Look at how people respond when you're out in public. This reaction does NOT translate online. You have to put stuff out there for people to find when they search you. WHY HAS NO ONE HAD THIS CONVERSATION WITH YOU?!?!?!
I got super heated in that moment.
I've never seen this side of your personality, he explained. This must be how you are with your slaves.
I started laughing. Dude, I've been KILLING it in business these last few weeks during my dating detox (I had told him about that previously). I feel GREAT and am in SUCH a no bullshit mood.
If you want help, I'd be happy to put something together for you.
If not, no hard feelings and I value the friendship.
The guy next to us then got a little closer.
Shall I leave you with your bro-mance? I whispered.
He started laughing embarassed.
Let's get out of here.
The next morning, I woke up bright and early and hit up the LACMA. Thanks to TNTML bud Casandra I found out that they were hosting a free admission day yesterday.
I put on the XX on spotify and just mellowed out staring at all of the works of art.
After a few hours I then decided to hit up Santa Monica to see if I could find a work of art that inspired me. (Which is also on my list.) I'm super passionate about giving back to local vendors as much as possible and Santa Monica and Venice are host to quite a few of them.
To my disappointment after a few hours I hadn't found anything that "spoke" to me, but I did finally purchase perfume!
I'm of the firmest belief in having a "signature scent." Not being a perfume person myself, I wanted to educate myself on the market and see what I thought matched my personality.
I spent over an hour in Sephora and left COMPLETELY over stimulated.
I just want something like Love Spell from Victorias Secret, but less body splash and more "adult."
I then popped across the street into VS and was helped by a very lovely attendant who helped me find this ...
So now where I am on my 15 items to do list?
a) maintain manicure - DONE!
b) maintain eyebrows
c) bikini wax (never done that one before)
d) go shoe shopping for myself and pay for my own shoes (I currently only own corporate sponsored shoes or domme shoes that my slaves bought me. I need to buy a pair for myself.) DONE!!!
e) girly slumber party - DONE!!!
f) buy myself a new outfit for the purpose of impressing myself - DONE!!!
g) buy a piece of art that inspires me
h) take a pottery class
i) cook dinner for friends - DONE!!!
j) visit the lacma - DONE!!
k) host a chick flick marathon - DONE!!!
l) go shopping with girlfriends and try on super girly clothing. The frillier the better.
m) take a bubble bath
n) visit a spa and pay for visit myself
o) purchase perfume - DONE!!
p) get a new tattoo (all big life changes require a tattoo) - DONE!!!
q) meet someone that inspires me
r) make a new girlfriend
9 things done and today marks the halfway point!!
I can't stress how awesome these last few weeks have been. I'm not sure if I even want to go back to dating to be honest. I'm so focused on self right now and working extremely, extremely hard. This entire experience has been life changing and for anyone else at a point of extreme frustration I would HIGHLY recommend just doing a detox. It's not about "the list" per say, it's more about the inspiration in between. Having items on a to-do list over a finite period of time just gives the ego and the brain things to process. The soul is then free to be inspired and you never know how far down the rabbit hole THAT is going to lead.
Much love and many blessings friends!!! Thanks for sharing this very eye opening life experience!! Who knew I could cook?!?!?! YAY LIFE!!!
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Eric. He is a MAASSTTEERRR social dynamics expert that will be talking about his experiences in the field from both an expert, and experience perspective. He's not just saying "this is how to get the girl" he's here to share his actual life stories and lessons learned from them. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT ERIC !!</editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @Redolpho
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving all these opportunities behind.
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected
enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired, to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral
of our divinity and still be a human.
- Lateralus, Tool
First off, to every single person that contacted me in one way or another, thank you. Thank you soooooooooooo much. As someone who deals with suicidal depression knows, the weight of the imposition can be so sly and incrementally obfuscating that your insignificance becomes a believable facade. It's crazy how believable this lie becomes and how your own world seems to close in on you. Each and every one of you helped break that facade down and I owe you a debt of gratitude. I know that I'm far from alone, I know that I am loved.
Nobody knew, as I've come to understand, even my closest friends had no idea that this was something I dealt with. But still, I have lived with a hunger for death all too often, a hunger to quit. When I wrote my last blog I cried. Still, I thought very little of it. Whimsically I posted it to my own Facebook, and then I took a nap. But when I awoke I did so to an unexpected mirror. The clarity in which I have seen myself was only viewable through you. What I thought I am is a fallacy.
"You are a good looking, socially inclined, musically gifted, genuinely nice dude, who would think that you had anything to be depressed about?"
This is what a good friend of mine, who deals with a similar affliction, said about me in a recent conversation. My self-image is obviously significantly distorted. I am cerebral to a fault. I live within my own head and there is a hyper-focused self-deprecating train of thought that cascades into suicidal planning. Through the exploratory adventure I have delved into I am contemplating the potential of refocusing this massive energetic waste into growth. I am pessimistic about the idea of being cured but; pragmatically, I think this may be something that I successfully learn to combat or cope with for my entire life. However, I am optimistic about the possibility of dying with a smile. I think about death often, it goes hand-in-hand with being suicidally depressed. How will I be remembered? As an atheist, I often contemplate the ramifications of my life. I wonder, "Did I make a difference?" "Did I do some good with the life that I've had?"
I WILL RIDE A TANDEM BIKE FOR 10,000 MILES ACROSS SOUTH EAST ASIA.
It's hard to type, it's hard to say, because it is so ambitious but I believe I have the potential for something great. But, when that path is unpathed and we explore vulnerability at its most organic source then it's often easier to lie in comfort than pursue the greatness that lies within. For me, I don't have the lying option. If I lie dormant than something else will grow and it will lead me to the top of a tall building and I'll fly from it to a selfish freedom.
Since publicly committing to the Tandem10 I have thought about how I could do social good in combination with my more selfish desires for this adventure. I talked in my last piece about my beliefs in the power of social media to connect us. As an entrepreneur, I have been sickened by what I've seen in the activities of "non-profits". There is a reality seldom seen in the organizations that take donations to pay six figure salaries to the kin of the rich, in order to feed narcissism, and fund elaborate marketing campaigns, which compel us to act in a way that we falsely believe is making a difference. Social media has the power to democratize our voice. I want to make a tangible difference, not just to those that benefit but to those that invest as well. Psychologically, making a direct social difference can impact the invester just as much as the receiver. In my short life I have felt most enamored by random acts of kindness. Sometimes it can be something as small as a taco or as big as a roof over your head so that you are not homeless quite yet. Those who have couchsurfed know what this social economy can mean and I'm sure many others know as well.
Instead of fighting for a grand cause, not that a grand cause is bad, I would like to instead use my Tandem10 exploration to discover random acts of kindness. As I travel through South East Asia I would like to find a mother that needs new shoes, a child that needs a book, or a traveler that needs a good meal. I can't predict what these needs may be but I would love nothing more than to connect you with the people that will benefit from your contribution. There will be no pre-produced packets or brochures, just a unique identifier so that you know EXACTLY where you invested in a random act of kindness along my journey. I am still working out the details of how exactly I'll accomplish this but the goals are simple: someone makes a contribution, half of the contribution funds the Tandem10, the other half funds random acts of kindness, tracking is done in the order in which contributions are made, as I travel and find places for randoms acts of kindness I'll connect the contributors with the recipients through social media (email, Facebook, etc.). Your financial and intellectual contributions are welcomed.
In regards to my self-exploration I have realized A LOT. Like I said, I posted my suicide confession whimsically to my Facebook. Had I thought about what it would be like to write such a vivid depiction of my deepest secrets to people who know me so well, I may not have been so candid. I had intended on sending it out to a somewhat anonymous crowd of blog readers. I hadn't hugged them before, I hadn't spoken with them before, I hadn't shared laughs and adventures with them. Within that crowd weren't some of the people that know me best. Within that crowd wasn't my mother.
I was writing my third version of my follow up piece to my suicide confession, this is now my eighth, and I saw the glow of my phone turn off. I grabbed my phone to see who had called and it was my Mom. I took a deep breath and slid the missed call notification on my iPhone and returned her call. With her hello I knew that she had read the piece, I knew she was shattered and I prepared myself for the conversation ahead. She told me that she felt as if she had failed as a mother, she couldn't believe that she had no idea at all and she was devastated that my suicidal attempts had started at such a young age. Nothing is as shattering as breaking your mothers heart but if I was going to be honest with the world than I needed to be honest with my mother as well. During our conversation I explained that my writing was meant to be something positive. She is still grappling with this but I hope that she will come to terms with the past. Yes, your first son held a knife to his throat before he was ten. Yes, your first son still wants to kill himself sometimes. BUT, he hasn't killed himself yet, he wants to live, and he has embarked on a deep journey into himself so that he will hopefully not just save his life but the lives of other sons and daughters as well. This is a story about life and not one of death. I love you Mom and although you are not perfect, and you have growing to do yourself, I know you love me too. I know you're worried about me, as I expect any mother would be, but know that I am not done living yet.
When I published my last piece I knew there would be an immediate sense of relief but that the relief would soon wain. I knew that there were deeper issues that had to be dealt with. The most daunting realization was that all the love I ever needed was right there for me to take but that I was unwilling to accept it. It was the moment when I realized how much I distrust the world and I know EXACTLY where it comes from. I grew up with an emotionally abusive father who, time and time again, pushed my head further below the surface when I was drowning. I was bullied through out elementary school and felt like an outcast, ugly, dumb, and undeserving of happiness. (Ironically, I just got sent an elementry school reunion invite) The first time I thought I had a real group of friends in high school, every single one of them turned their back on me. What made it worse is that they made it look easy. When you have such a breadth of pivotal life experiences convincing you that betrayal is something to be expected, how do you learn to trust again?
As best as I understand it now, trust has to be relearned through a series of experiences that reinforce a comfort in trust itself. I have to reteach myself to trust others and to trust myself. Part of my journey is to say yes to the now. To the best of my abilities I am trying to let what moves me, move me. Keeping my one goal in mind, to live happily. The hardest part about writing this piece has not just been my reflective evaluation but also figuring out what I am going to DO about it. What are my next steps? In thinking about them I am attempting to use discomfort as a barometer for change and to take pragmatic steps towards recovery.
First step: Tell the world that sometimes I want to kill myself and that I've unsuccessfully tried it. But also that I'm committed to growth.
First step -> DONE
Second step: Deal with the immediate needs of the relationship with my Dad.
My Dad is at the root of a lot of my anger and distrust. If you know me personally you'll know that angry isn't a word that is often used to describe me, but my Dad fucking pisses me off. I have debated on whether or not to go on a tirade and I have chosen not to. I already wrote my fuck you letter and 2013 is about growth. I can't grow if I continue living in the past. But in order to move forward I need to do something I have been puting off for a long time. He has been calling me for the last two years and I haven't answered or called back. Here is my response...
Dad: When you disowned me I listened and the fact that you did it infront of the whole family was incredibly embarrassing. You have never said sorry for it and now it's too late because I won't believe you when you do. It's been two fucking years and you never said sorry. That. is. an. ass. hole. move.. Call after call but never a sorry. Just one emotionless monotone messge after the other. You're not getting a phone call back. Please stop calling me and asking me how I am. Ask your wife if you want to know. I. do. not. trust. you.. Period end of sentence. There cannot be any meaningful relationship without trust and I don't know what you could do at this point that make me trust you again.
Second step -> DONE
Third step: Post the following affirmations where I can read them everyday.
I have all the love that I'll ever need.
I am all the awesome that I'll ever need.
I will ride the Tandem10.
Third step -> DONE
Fourth step: Feel a sense of pride by achieving something.
I currently have unlimited access to a surf rental shop in Venice beach. I am going to stand up on that board. I'll keep you posted.
Fifth step: Reward myself for making a HUGE step forward and posting the piece to my friends and family.
I am going to take a random trip and couchsurf for a couple days very soon.
Sixth step: Start raising and saving money for the Tandem10.
I have bought the domain name tandem10.com, and am figuring out how to take donations. I need to talk someone who has experience with non-profits to discuss how I should set this up.
Seventh step: Reach out to someone when I am feeling most alone and vulnerable.
I have realized that talking about depression is one of the best ways to deal with it but, this intimately vulnerable area is one where I lack trust the most. One of the people that reached out to me is very dear to my heart. Although they asked to remain very anonymous, suffice-it-to-say I care for them very dearly, and they have also experienced things very similar to me. I am going to call or text you the next time I feel the pull. I love you, know that. If you died I would be very very sad. Don't write me a letter, call me. I know what it feels like to feel alone but know that you are not alone. I am here with you and you are here with me. I will not fail you and I expect the same of you. I love you. I love you. I love you so very much.
Eighth step: Write my next piece and trust the the world one more time. Tell the world and those closest to me about something they also do not know. Be brave, be bold, be vulnerable. Find change. Grow!
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Pamela, she's a super talented journalist based here in LA. She and I started talking on the interwebz not too long ago, and after our adventure on Chat Roulette last night (more on that soon) she wanted to provide her two cents on her experience. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT PAMELA!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's Pamela Chelin
Recently I tried Chat Roulette. I had heard of it. I had not done it. Now I have done it. Holy crap. It's weird.
For those of you who don't know what Chat Roulette is, because you are too busy being normal, socially adjusted human beings, I will explain how it works in 3 easy steps:
1. Log on to Chat Roulette's website where you will be connected to random people around the world via your webcam. You are also connected to random penises. (I did not know this would be the case. I thought you were supposed to get shit-faced drunk at bars in order to connect with random penises.)
2. When you want to chat with someone, you begin talking to them as you would with any video chat. OR, if you don't want to speak, you can type into a chat box instead. I suppose that option was created for Stephen Hawking.
3. When you want to end a chat, you click NEXT and you are immediately connected to another person somewhere in the world. (Or another random penis.)
Don't think you are fully in control though, dumping people as you please and feeling like you are oh-so-cool.
When people don't like you, they will click NEXT and they will disappear from your screen leaving you to wonder if you are ugly, boring, stupid -- or all three combined. I was dumped several times. Perhaps I am all three combined. Though, truthfully, mostly I was dumped by girls who clicked NEXT before I could even say a word. Girls didn't want to talk to me. They were searching for boys. Understood. My first partner was a guy in Ireland. He works for a wine company as a sales rep. He was lying on his couch due to a relentless bout of insomnia. Of course I talked about the usual Irish things with him -- Irish Spring, Bono and leprechauns. And we laughed and laughed and laughed and made fun of the Welsh and how no one (not even other Welshmen) can understand them when they speak. (Seriously, "USA" in Welsh is "yr Unol Daleithiau." WTF?)
And then I clicked NEXT.
My next partner was a German schoolteacher in Rostock. He had been to a party. Despite his desire to take home a girl and have meaningless sex with her, he didn't score a chick and he came home lonely and defeated feeling like a Morrissey song. He was chain-smoking and wearing a sailor hat. He seemed demented. I went to Google Translate and began typing in the chat box in German. But then he began speaking German out loud and I had no idea what he was saying because the only German word I know is "gesundheit" and he had not sneezed. Then I started to wonder if he could somehow kill me over the Internet. He just looked like that kind of dude. Anyway he started speaking English and begging me not to click NEXT.
Um... And then I clicked NEXT.
And there was a penis with a hand rubbing it taking up the whole screen.
And then I clicked NEXT.
And there was another penis. And then I clicked NEXT.
I was connected with 3 Scottish guys in their twenties in Glasgow. They seemed to be hoping I'd get naked. Whatever. Who, except for everyone, isn't hoping I'd get naked? One of them held up a paper cut-out of a penis and said, "I have my penis in my hand." I responded, "I'm willing to bet you have your penis in your own hand most of the time." Then his friends laughed at him.
And then I clicked NEXT. And there was another penis.
What was it with all these exhibitionist penises? Peni? I was connected to a guy in the Netherlands who, somehow, was all dark except that he was outlined in fluorescent. He was going by the name "XXXX." He was like a villain in a pornographic superhero snuff cartoon. I was frightened of XXXX. Two too many Xs. A truly scary individual. He seemed like a serial killer version of the Dos Equis man. And then I clicked NEXT.
I was connected to three college students in a small town in Illinois. One of the students was black. I told him that I am black, too. I told him that being black has nothing to do with what you look like but it is, in fact, an attitude. He smiled and exclaimed, "Finally! Someone understands!" And then I clicked NEXT.
And then there was another penis. And then I clicked NEXT.
My next partner was a drunk French DJ in Montreal who was wearing sunglasses and spinning vinyl in his bedroom while drinking Absolut Vodka directly from the bottle. I pretended to dance enthusiastically to his beats. I spoke in what little French I know. "Je ne parle pas Francais. J'aime les chiens. Bonjour. Il pleut." (Translation: "I don't speak French. I like dogs. Hi. It rains.") I also attempted to speak using an inflection infused with disdain just like real French people. And then I clicked NEXT.
I was connected to a Mexican guy who was lying in bed. He looked around 21 years old. I said, "Taco" ,"Diego Luna", "Gael Garcia Bernal." I finished with a very impressive "Y Tu Maman Tambien." He simply laughed. I'm sure he was thinking to himself, "Oh, what a silly American girl! Americans are so stupid." I am not American though. A-ha! Who is the stupid one now, senor? And then I clicked NEXT.
I saw a couple sitting on a couch. They were just sitting there looking like they need to be entertained, so I began talking to them. It turns out they were in Pasadena. We chatted about the weirdness of Chat Roulette and all the random genital displays. And then I clicked NEXT.
A Navy SEAL was sitting in a chair somewhere in Texas. He said, "I've killed people." I felt bad for the guy. I wanted to counsel him. I said, "I'm sure in defense, right?" He said, "No. We went on a raid." Uh-oh. I said, "Well in defense of your country right?" He nodded. And then he just stared. And stared. And stared. What the hell? It's Saturday night and I'm home drinking copious amounts of red wine. All I wanna do is have some fun! How was I now playing therapist to a Navy SEAL who clearly has post-traumatic stress? Jesus. Where is Kathryn Bigelow when you need her? And then I clicked NEXT.
And some dudes in who-knows-where-USA asked me to show them my breasts. And then I clicked NEXT.
There was a cute blond guy with Eddie Vedder type of hair, sitting on a couch wearing a red t-shirt. I opened up our dialogue by laughing. He started laughing, too. He seemed sweet and innocent. We began chatting. He had just been on a date and he was going to bed early-ish on a Saturday night because he had a big rowing match the next day. Naturally, I asked him if he rowed "gently" and "merrily, merrily, merrily down the stream" and if he could confirm for me that life is, indeed, "but a dream."
Rower guy was in Sacramento. I tried to talk to him about the TV show "Eight is Enough." He didn't know the reference. Whoops. He was too young. That makes me old. I don't like that. He and I ended up chatting for an hour and a half and then we exchanged email addresses.
(Note: Sacramento rower and I are still in touch over email. Who knew that I'd make a new pen pal on Chat Roulette?)
You, too, can Chat Roulette. You know you want to. http://chatroulette.com/I just looked on the site and there are over 14 000 users currently Chat Rouletting (that means around 13 000 people and just over 1 000 penises), waiting to meet you. All the lonely people...where do they all come from?
Question: Do you yawn every time you get an erection? So bored that you see sex like a shift without a lunch break? Would you rather study the biology of a Trochodendron Nastae than take off your clothes and have sex?
TNTML | tagged 
