This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 11)

Amazing that you guys have been so into this story, seriously - reading all of your own personal stories has blown my socks off as well. Those get posted next. Amazing. Amazing. Amazing. 

It's unbelievable too how disassociated I am starting to feel from this story. It's becoming very, so what, to me now. HAHAHA!! Do you know how many therapy sessions it would have taken for me to get over something like this? All I had to do was read your stories, hear your comments, talk back - I mean INFUCKINGCREDIBLE. 

K ... so if you're not caught up on what's goin down ... here's part one ... here's part one point five ... here's part two ... here's part three ... here's part four ... here's part five ... here's part six ... here's part seven ... here's part eight ... here's part nine ... and here's part ten.

(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!!!)

K the final chapter ... 

At this point, I realize that going back to the mentalist is just - stupid ... and clearly rebounding was not an option as well, as I can't get off with randoms, and the only dude I remotely could have wanted to kick it with loved me. Like loved me. Loved me. Love can't grow out by itself in the middle of nowhere. (Remember that from part two?) What kind of person would I be if I just did this to another person. Totally bad karma. Totally not my style. 

I drove back home and proceeded to do the only thing I knew how to do - work. I sat down and thought about the branding that I wanted to do for this site, planned out the search engine optimization, and began my social media marketing. Dude, when we first started I would literally sit there on tweetdeck with a keyword search for "nerd" open - and literally @reply everyone and just throw our tag #nerdsunite in! People would read that and go, wtf!?! #nerdsunite?! That's awesome! Then they'd click my profile, read my bio, which had this website in it - and bam. People started to come by and say hello.

I literally did this all day everyday (not just on twitter, goodness gracious spammy mcspammers are no bueno) - but seriously, I would work all day for my clients to keep a roof over my head, and literally work into the night every.single.night. launching this site. I had nothing else to do!!!! Boys and me were trouble, I was barely talking to my friends, my family wanted pretty much nothing to do with me, I literally did the only things in this world that made me happy - work in social media, and work on this website. 

It was a couple weeks before I heard boo out of anyone or anything involved with the mentalist ... that was until I got an email from Brownie Girl on Facebook. UGHHHHHHH!!! You have got to be kidding me! Can't you just GO THE FUCK AWAY?!?!?! Whyyyyyyy areeeee yooouuuuuu heerreeeeeee??? If it weren't for you, I would have still been in love, you crazy fucking psycho bitch. 

I click the message - it reads:

HI!!!! I can't believe what the mentalist did to all of us!! This is so horrible. I'd love to call you and talk to you about everything you know to piece the timeline together like you did with XXXXXX. Here's my number: 555-5555 

P.S. He's such a jerk!! 

I proceeded to scream into my monitor, as if I had some super advanced Dragon Naturally Speaking product - I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!! GET OUT OF MY FACE!!!!! GET OUT OF MY FAAAAACCEEEEE!!!! JUST GET OUT OF MY FUCKING FACE!!!!!!! 

I breakdown and cry.

Tangent: It really wasn't Brownie Girl's fault at all - even in posting this entire story I recognized how much anger I still have for her. Calling her a victim though in his ploy would be providing her with some sort of gratification; this chick is diabolical, she apparently was never pregnant, thought that that "scare" might make him commit or something. Dude, this isn't 1955. Did you really think he was going to just settle down and make an honest woman of you. 

Good lord. 

Again though, what in me is angry by this chick? I could classify myself as being diabolical for twisting his arm in allowing me to live in his apartment - what was so different with what I was doing than with what she was doing? 

I dunno. Psychoanalysis will have to come at a later date, haha! First, storytime.

Tangent over. 

I continued to throw myself into work for the next month, barely even coming up for air. The only time I left the apartment was to go to that one client's office once a week - the rest was all from home. My schedule consisted of sleeping for 7 hours, waking up, hustling for clients, eating lunch, scouring for new business, eating dinner, working on the site. Repeat. It was non-stop. I even picked up a few hours a week serving at this little kosher restaurant in Beverly Hills just in case a client's invoice came in too late, and I needed to make rent. No matter what, I did whatever it took to just make sure my bases were covered. 

I worked. 

and worked. 

and worked. 

and worked. 

Then, came my birthday. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do - again, I wasn't even speaking to any of my friends at that time ... I've never been a big birthday party haver after shiznat the people my father grew up with, did to me growing up. (I actually completely dissassociate them so much that I call them that. There may be a story there to tell as well ... who knows. One bite of the elephant at a time.) I've just never wanted any of the bullshit, or any of the drama that was associated with my birthday as an adult as I had as a child. 

Disney was running a special that year that if it was your birthday, you could get in for free. Amazing! I thought! But who to invite? Love never goes away, it just evolves. I recognized that the mentalist and I were never going to date, never going to have this life that I fantasized - it just wasn't going to happen ... but I couldn't not have him in my life. Yes, he was toxic, yes, he was fucking scum of the Earth - but I had fallen in love with him. What was I supposed to do? Love lasts a lifetime whether you want it to or not. I thought, hey, maybe we could at least get to a point where we could forgive, and not forget - but at least just be amicable and be friends. 

I invited him to Disney for my 25th birthday. 

Yep. That happened. 

I forget what exactly transpired, but come the day of my birthday - he never showed. I remember vividly we were supposed to meet at 10am to go to Anaheim, but shocker shocker, he never showed. I wasn't even disappointed, it was this moment of, dude, did you actually expect something different? I got in my car and proceeded to drive down to Disneyland. Ain't no one gonna stop me from celebrating my day of birth at the happiest place on Earth!!! 

I had SUCHHHHHHHHH a blast that day!!!! I have no problem doing things alone. Like at all. It's honestly how I meet so many people. I love sparking up random conversations with people that are on the path of whatever it is that I want to do anyway. I got to ride all of the rides that I wanted to, got to stay however long that I wanted to, ate when I was hungry, stopped when I was tired - amazing. It was a great birthday. 

I headed back to the house and then took the mentalist's number out of my phone. A solid delete. Even deleted his ringtone that I had changed to Britney Spears' Womanizer. 

I didn't write his number down anywhere - I just at this point was so fed up, so tired, all cried out ... I needed to be done. For good. 

I remember holding my phone in my hand, and thinking - this is it Jen. Are you sure? If you delete, and he never calls you ... you're screwed? 

Yes, I said. 

Delete. 

I continued to work, and literally throw myself into building my client base, and building this brand, as it was all that I had to do with my life. 

A few months went by ... Valentines day came - I got a text from him saying, someone as special as me deserves a Valentines Day wish days before the actual date - and blah blah blah ... I laughed, and clicked delete.

I had randomly bumped into a mutual friend of ours just a few weeks prior, and when I asked how he was doing - it was this look of, the same ol' same ol'. Even told me that he was going to be spending Valentines day with this pin up thats been featured on The Dirty many a many a many a many of times. (How appropriate of lifes reflectiveness ... HAHAHAHA!!)

Eck! 

I just wanted nothing to do with this person, and every few weeks I would get a text ... and every few weeks, I would say, who is this? (Because of all my new networking, I just had no fucking idea. I wasn't about to blow off a new lead.) Everytime he said his name, I would click delete. 

I just wanted nothing to do with him. 

Tangent: Oh! One time though, I do remember he had texted me when I was literally like right around the corner from his house. He was like, I miss you where are you - I said, I'm oddly enough right around the corner. He said come over. I had my dog with me at the time, so I knew I had to head back home ... I get there, and he just breaks down and cries. Like sobs ... really fucking hard. Then, he did something that I will never EVER forget - he goes, I can't even look at  you right now. 

I DID THAT SAME MOVE TO HIM WHEN I WAS CRYING WHEN THE SHIT INITIALLY HIT THE FAN!!! He was mirroring my emotional breakdown. FUCKKKKKKK YOOOOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ugh, that made me so fucking mad. 

Delete. Delete. Delete. Is there a control Z option as well in this scenario? Can I like, undo you entirely from my life? 

Abraca-fucking-dabra. 

The site fortunately really started to pick up steam - again, life is reflective ... I put ALLLLLLLL of my passion into this baby, so of course, life had to meet my expectations of it. 

In February of that year, I was named one of the latest agents in the Ford Fiesta Movement. Dude - epic! And totally kicked off a series of some pretty rad adventures. 

Either way, I was kept incredibly busy competing in missions, still managing this brand, running this site, and slowly realizing that I didn't enjoy consulting any more - at all. 

Before I realized it - the end of winter was becoming spring, and the mentalist was becoming more and more of a distant memory. Dude, at that point, I had not only still had him blocked on Facebook - but had entirely stopped Twitter stalking him as well. INSANE!! I really was that busy. 

Then I get a phone call ... not a text ... a phone call ... unsure of the number, I let it go to voicemail. 

Hi, it's me. Something happened, I got really fucked up. I have this show that I have to do but I can't see out of my right eye and I have no idea how I am supposed to drive up there. 

Now, normally - anyone in this world would have prolly heard that, laughed, and said - hahaha karmas a bitch. But no, I have a heart, a big one ... I hadn't talked to him in a while, and clearly something was really wrong. He never. ever. ever. calls me. 

I pick up the phone immediately to call him back. 

What happened? It's an allergy or something - I don't really know, but my eye is patched up and I can't see anything, but I really need to do this show tonight, I can use the money. 

I ask him where the show is, he says its about 3 hours north. Drive ... in the car ... with you ... for 3 hours??? 

Then he cuts out the bullshit and says - Jen, you are my only hope. Please. 

FUCCKKKK MEEEEEEE!!!!!!! Fine. Fine. Fine. If this doesn't get me into whatever Heaven is, fucking nothing will. 

I'll be right there, I say. 

Mind you - Ford had given me the Fiesta, so I had a free car - with free gas ... yes it was a time commitment, but I also was hopeful for some healing to occur. Some sort of something. 

I go to his house to get him, and he is in really bad shape. To this day, I have no idea if it was in fact an allergy, or if some dude finally just beat the fucking shit out of him - but either way, it was BADDDDDD. He had just been released from the eye doctor and was literally blind in one eye, and could only see light and a little bit out of the other. 

I guide him to get all of his things together. I kept saying, are you sure you want to do this show? You don't have to - are you sure you can do this? Yes, he said. He had to. Alrite - it's your call. I can get you there, the rest is up to you. 

We proceed to drive north. For ... 3 ... hours. 

It wasn't weird like one would think - I just sort of went into producer mode of cut out the bullshit, this is what we have to do to get this done ... here is the next doable action. I am a fucking freak of nature when it comes to compartmentalizing things. I know this guy was an ass to me, I know this guy did some super fucked up shit - but in this moment, on a cellular level, another human being really needed help, and it wasn't an inconvenience for me to help them. 

We sung along to cheesy 90s songs on my fav Sirius station 90s on 9 - and had a blast. It was like for those 3 hours, I had my old best friend back. The dude that I used to shoot the shit with, the dude that I discussed consciousness with at great lengths ... it was back. Not the love, that I wasn't looking for - but the bond. That intimate relationship that I had with this one person that I had with no one else in the world at this very moment. 

The show was great, he totally rocked it. I was his assistant, and enjoyed all the hoots and hollars from the boys. HAHA! That rocked my own socks off ... yahhh baby, I still got it. JIGGAAAA!!! =) 

The show had organized for him to have a hotel room that night, but I told him I was cool to drive back. I had discovered on my many Fiesta adventures that I could drive until approximately 2:30am. That was when my depth perception became too skewed to drive on. HAHA! No joke! I ran tests!! Gotta know your physical limits in life, kiddies. We had plenty of time to drive back.

He slept most of the way, clearly exhausted from all the medicine he then had to take. I would wake him up periodically to keep me company. 

We get back to his apartment, and I am just unbelievably beat. Beat isn't even the word - I was two steps away from death. It was a very physically and emotionally draining evening. He says, why don't you spend the night. I didn't know what to say. I know what that had meant in the past, and I wasn't looking to go down that path again - however, I was very honestly scared to even just drive a few miles back to the house as I was so fucking tired. 

I said, fine, I'll stay. 

I slept in his bed that night ... the bed we used to share ... and all I did was sleep. (Which btw, is super hard for me to not be horny after road trips. I don't know what it is - if its the vibrations in the road or what, but good lord, me and road trips = one horny lil bitch. SERIOUSLY! Epic restraint) 

I woke up the next morning, said I was glad I could be of service, and left his apartment. There was no big dramatic moment of good bye - be well, nada. It just was. The time had come for me to leave. 

I didn't hear from him again for a little bit. I again, deleted his number from my phone out of not wanting to randomly drunk dial him one night - which I was guilty of more than a few times. I didn't expect anything of him out of that point - I stepped out of this romanticized, fantasy life that I had envisioned him in being a part of, and welcomed the reality that I had a brand, a website, and something I was REALLY FUCKING PROUD OF outside of a boy, outside of my family, and outside of my friends. I had something to do, this passion, this purpose, this DRIVE unlike anything I had ever felt in my ENTIRE LIFEEEEEEEEEE!!!! 

I was doing something because I was inspired, and because I wanted to do something. I can do this ... I can get to people with this website, and the response that I got was incredible. I want more. 

I decided at that point, that I wanted to stop consulting. I didn't enjoy it, and chasing invoices was just the most nauseating thing on this planet. Social media is changing the world, and the world is your "low hanging fruit." If that is my constant in this current place, I can do something epic - market and promote it upon execution, while at the same time continually do things that I enjoy! This sounds like such a win/win it's not even funny. Who cares where I end up, who cares what ends up happening ... the journey is the destination. 

I decided at that moment to give up my apartment, and start sleeping in the Fiesta. At that time, I had been bartering in social media for a few months - so I had some food, water, bedding, clothing, a car, and a gas card. What the fuck is stopping me? ME!!!!! I am the only thing standing in my way!!!!!!! 

Fuck that shit!!!

At the time, we were on our third mission for the Fiesta Movement, which was to throw an online and offline party. Sweet, I thought. My partner in the Fiesta Movement was a big deal on Stickam, so that part we got down ... I thought, well, we have to throw the offline component at some bar in Hollywood - why not do it at a hotel bar, and we can negotiate a rate with the hotel to get a place to stay for the weekend. Called in some favors from some social media buddies over at the Shangri-La Hotel in Santa Monica, and alas! I spent my very first three days without a home in the penthouse suite. 

HAHA!! Look ... 

That is also a corporate sponsored blanket, and corporate sponsored knee socks (I LOVEEEE ME SOME KNEE HIGH SOCKS!!!) - and my $7 ponys. I had bought those a few years back, so shoes weren't sponsored - but I'll get over it. I just dug 'em. 

Trust me though, deciding to do something like this is NOT NOT NOT an easy decision to make. It is NOT logical to sleep in your car. At the time however, I had done copious amounts of research on public showers, knew every.single. wifi spot in LA - and just sort of figured that the rest would fall into place. Nothing else mattered - I just wanted to be happy after having my heart broken so unbelievably badly, and figured if I followed the path of doing things that felt good, this could only lead to some place good. 

After the weekend was up, I started sleeping in the Ford Fiesta down in Venice (by lincoln and rose - adjacent to the Venice Family Center) and focused only on working on this site, and this brand. I would again, sleep for 7 hours (although in the passenger's seat as I never wanted to fall asleep in the drivers seat so I wouldn't falsely condition my brain that way), wake up (because frankly, its Venice - there are people walking ... you could not possibly sleep longer than 7 hours), drive over to Cafe Solar in Hollywood and plug away. It was weird, I never had to shower in a public shower, every day I had a new friend here, or a new friend there, that said, hey! come kick it. I was honest in my approach, everyone knew what I was doing as I marketed it upon execution - so I very literally had nothing but this outpouring of people within LA wanting to help out. 

I never went a single day hungry, or without a shower. Amazing - but totally scared the fuck out of me. I kept taking steps each and every day and had NOOOOO idea what I was walking to. I just trusted my marketing skills, and trusted that if people could just know what I was doing - good karma could take care of the rest. 

A couple weeks go by, and I get a text from the mentalist: (Tangent: I was anal at that time about at least making sure my phone was kept on. I had just enough money left to keep it on for 2 months. What I was doing was extreme, but I wasn't about to be a complete idiot if something scary happened. I needed to make sure I had my bases covered. Calculated risks, people. Calculated risks!!) 

What are you doing? Why are you sleeping in your car? Come talk to me this afternoon. 

I stared down at my phone, surprised at what I was seeing. Is this really happening? Because one thing I am NOT is a damsel in distress. I am doing this because it makes me happy - and whatever it looks like to other people, will just have to look that way to other people. I'm actually having a really fun time, it's scary as fuck - but I know something good is going to come from this, I feel it.

Dude, I didn't put on makeup - let my hair be all funky and curly ... just sort of got to my organic roots at the most cellular level of Jen-ness. Coming from a chick that literally made bank off of looking a certain way, this was a BIIIIGGGGG shift!!! I was no longer trying to be something to other people - I was focused strictly on being something to myself first. I was DAMN proud of myself for doing this. 

I texted him back, and said alrite, I'll be by later. 

I get to his place, and he invites me to stay with him until I get back on my feet. Back on my feet, I thought? I feel like for the first time I am actually standing on my feet?!? He said, it's not safe for me to do what I'm doing. I said, have you seen the car I am sleeping in??? I'm down in Venice with jalopies and creepy looking cars - who is going to fuck with the chick that has koi fish on the side of her car? 

Seriously. Look at this from a logical perspective - if you're a rapist, murderer, mugger, whatever - and you have the option of roughing up the chick in the broken down Honda Accord ... or the chick in that fucking thing, which one are you going to pick? 

SERIOUSLY!!! I know I am bat shit crazy, but I ONLY take calculated risks - I was actually pretty safe. People were scared to make eye contact with me ... haha! Hilariousssss!!! Way to be the craziest among the crazies! 

Go Jen Go!!! 

But at the same time, I did miss sleeping in a bed - and not knowing if I was going to shower each day was getting to be a bit stressful. I took him up on his offer ... BUUUTTT I said to him under one condition - I have to barter with you in social media. I am doing this experiment strictly on seeing how far passion and purpose can carry you. I am not going to start it off on the wrong foot - what can I do to help you? 

Help me with my website, and help me come up with a social media strategy for this side company that I have. DONE!!!!!!! 

And there you go, the mentalist pulled me off the streets. 

Business wise, he and I always worked well together brainstorming. We came up with some really really really off the wall shit. My brain moves at a million miles a minute, he reacted well to that - it was great. 

Being back in that apartment though motivated me more than ever to just get out. I wasn't going to stay there long - I knew that, he knew that ... but he honestly took care of me for those couple weeks. He made sure I ate, had a place to shower, remembered to come up from air, and even step away from the computer to use the restroom ... I was traveling on the Unapologetically Awesome Tour at the time too, so I was bouncing around all over the place too, but it was nice to have some sort of a home page to come back to. 

I tried having sex with him a couple times, as again - I am a horny horny bitch. I lovvveeeeeeeeee what I do all day everyday, that excitement travels down your entire body - I assure you. 

I remember one time just looking at him going, it's so different now. I couldn't even get off. This was the guy that introduced me to an orgasm from penetration ... and nada. I even watched porn with him, thought of literally anything and everything to just be able to get off from him - and nope. Nada. Never happened again. 

Remember me saying that the female orgasm is about an emotional bond and trust? Yep! Proven fact. 

Then came something that I didn't expect ... another boy. 

I had been checking in on FourSquare at his apartment - albeit off the grid, it still made me mayor of his apartment building for a brief period of time. Well, I took a look at the dude that I ousted on Twitter ... and OMMMMGGGGG he was hot. Like color me bad baby because I wanna sex you UPPPPPPP type hot! AND the fact that he uses FourSquare indicates a certain level of nerdness that I wanted to be all up on. 

He and I started flirting over twitter, and DMS - and alas, one day, the mentalist's internet went out, and I had this video that I HAADDDDD to upload to YouTube. Fuck Fuck Fuck! I sent out an APB on Twitter, and the duderino got back to me saying he would gladly help out. He DMed me his apartment number, and a couple minutes later, I knocked on his door. 

**knock knock**

He opens the door ... and literally, takes my breath away. Oh.My.God. He is even hotter than his twitter avatar. How is that possible?!?! 

I have no make up on, am rocking a very smelly hoodie ... and I am now sitting in this dudes apartment, uploading this video talking about the state of social media. 

Yep. This is happening. 

I very literally wanted to jump out of my skin, and just get the fuck out so badly. OMG OMG OMG this boy is so super hot ... what is happening right now? How is it that I am developing feelings for a boy? This is so foreign to me! I haven't liked anyone since the mentalist broke my heart ... right now, I am sleeping in the mentalists apartment ... omg omg omg this has disaster stamped all over it. 

He asks me out on a date on Facebook. Yep, at that point we became Facebook buddies as well - all social media bases were friended, followed, and otherwise covered. 

We went out on our first date to the Velvet Margarita, and omgggg I totally fell for this boy. It was tragic actually. I tried to keep my composure because I had NO idea what I was doing at that point. Dating? Me?! I don't date!!!? Me and boys DO NOT go together ... like at all ... what is happening in this scenario!!! 

I told him about what I was doing, and about my quirky way of life and how I was enjoying my epic adventure. He was captivated - this boy fell equally as hard for me, it was intense ... and totally out of left field. 

I proceeded to spend a lot of time with him, as again, I was staying in his building - and wanted to get away from the mentalist. We never really talked about why I was living in his apartment, I don't think he thought about it or cared. It literally never came up, or if it did, I'm sure I said we were just friends. 

THENNNNNNN ... this boy decides he wants to go to Vegas for the weekend. I'm totally game! He said he would take care of me, I didn't think anything of it - since technically speaking we met on FourSquare, so this wasn't going against my bartering experiment. We talked at EXTREME lengths about social media, what it can do for his company ... what it can do for his everything. He wanted to get in this space badly, so I just sort of spewed out everything that I knew. 

Vegas was ah-mazing! We stayed in an epic suite, and low and behold one night of nooky nooky lead to something I didn't expect - my first orgasm during sex from someone other than the mentalist. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMGGGGGG I thought!! This is NUTS! The mentalist doesn't have a hold sexually over me anymore!! OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!! This must be how Stella got her groove back!!!! She found a dude she liked who just happened to be wonderfully blessed downstairs. 

YESSSSS!!!! 

Of course, I said none of this to him ... hahahahaha! He would have thought I was nuts. And as you could all see, there was quite the story behind all of this to begin with. 

We get back from Vegas, and at that point, I basically moved in with the dude. I crashed at his place, showered, went to all my meetings - and continued to work from coffee shops. It was great, I very genuinely liked this human being a lot ... however, I could tell, he was falling in love with me. FUUUCKKKKKKK!!! This was the first guy I had actually dated since the mentalist, I was ill prepared to even think about heading down the love path. I had a series of conversations with him saying that I wanted to focus on running the site, I couldn't be in a relationship. Mind you too, we spent an absurd amount of time together, I was basically living in his place ... but one thing lead to another, and I realized that all I was going to do was break this boys heart. Fuck me. I can't do this to another person. 

At that point, I had gotten another offer to couch surf based on a chickadee that I was going to do a webshow on, so I told him that things were moving too fast - and we should really take some space, and that I was going to move in with this chick and see where things go from there.

Again though, I assure you, I was the one more than anything that made this move fast. We met, had a couple dates, and bam! Spent a few weeks together. A big part of me wanted to get away from the mentalist, and that entire scenario - but at the same time, I was genuinely into this dude, for the first time since my heartbreak. I just didn't know how to navigate especially since I had no real home page. 

I grabbed the last of all of my things that were in the mentalist's apartment, and moved in with the chickadee. It felt so great - so.fucking.great. leaving that place. I was so mortified walking around that apartment, just praying to GOOODDD that no one saw me. I couldn't face being back there after everything he had put me through. 

The mentalist knew something was up since I clearly wasn't sleeping at his place anymore. We never talked about it - in fact I barely even saw him. I remember one time during those couple of weeks he tried having sex with me, and I turned him down. I said, I can't be like you - I can't have sex with more than one person at the same time. He got the picture, and we haven't spoken since. 

So, where is everyone now?

The boy I ousted on Foursquare and I stayed friends ... kinda. He got a bit too intense for me, again though, in his defense - he had no idea what I had just gone through. I saw him a couple weeks back, and I still felt like an ass knowing that I broke this dudes heart. It was written all over his face, I became "that girl." I hope he can read this one day, and hopefully understand that I really did mean no ill will - it was just the worst. timing. ever. 

Like I said, one of the Minnesota girls went back, but is now living somewhere in Northern California with a boy. The other one is still in LA living out her dreams, and thankful for the closure this series of posts has brought her as well. 

Haven't talked to the English girls - but can assume they are doing well as we are still Facebook besties. 

Brownie Girl I never talked to. ever. I have no idea what she is up to, I honestly blocked her on Facebook - haha!

The chickadee that I had the epic phone conversation with? Here's what she had to say about the posts:

Subject: More puzzle pieces for ya...
Message: Queen of the Nerds,

So I happened upon your Part 4 this evening on FB. Read it, left a comment & then went back & read Parts 1-3. Whew!!! Lemme tell ya I don't know how he has the energy... (Id say HAD, but you know his pathetic antics will NEVER stop)
To make a long story short I realized that the day after Brownie Girl brought the infamous brownies & he left to go on tour again was the few days that I spent carting his ass around XXXXXX because right before I picked him up at the airport I was on his FB page & couldn't help but notice some "more than friend" posts by brownie girl & you. I asked him about the both of you & of course he said you were just a friend (I of course had NO IDEA that you were living with him at the time) & brownie girl was some crazy chick with a crush on him that he was just using for her contacts (sound familiar) HAHAHA Its so pathetic that all I can do is shake my head & laugh now. Anyway he told me this story that she had a friend in his complex who she was visiting the night before so she "stopped by" (uninvited of course) to drop off some brownies for him. He went into detail about how his TWO houseguests were making fun of her & everything.

Also after all the shit hit the fan I told him that I knew he had sex with her in his car & do you know what he said? You can probably guess? "I didn't have sex with her in my car." Oh Im so sorry. I missed that day of class in Interrogation/Cross-Examination 101. I forgot that I needed to explain that sex means oral too.

Oh yeah, & that whole crock of doo doo about him being able to spend more time with his children when he isnt on tour...I heard that too. Did he ask you what kind of house you wanted to live in with your children & whether you thought they should be raised in LA or back east? He actually cried on the phone the FIRST time I busted him when I found out that he hadn't actually broken up with his girlfriend XXXXXX who was from XXXXXXXX, but had just started going to Grad School out in Malibu. I think the only reason he cried then was because it was the FIRST time he actually got caught & of course he had not been exposed to the Rockstar life of living in LA yet. His "prey options" were not as large as they were to soon become.

So obviously The Hostel is still a popular place because he just had his ex from like 6+ years ago staying with him over from the middle of Dec until February. She is also a very nice & beautiful girl who happens to be cousins with a good friend of mine...ergo how the info came to me. ;) She is trying to break into the music biz in LA & so I can only hope that she used him for his contacts. Yes, I know. Im evil. Im OK with that. HAHAHA

Im almost glad we haven't met in person yet because I know a lot of our time together would inevitably be "comparing notes" & neither of us really needs to waste anymore time being ashamed, sad, or enraged at his hands. I do think I would love you to death though. True love too, not that bullshit "tell you what you want to hear so I can get what I want out of you" love. Oh If I had a penis I would fly on out to LALALAND & whisk your cute little nerdy hiney off of your feet & make you forget all about "The Faker" aka "The One Who Shall Not Be Named".  ;)

Stay true to yourself & well......basically just AWESOME all the way around,

ME

The mentalist is an old dog with no new tricks. I've been watching his twitter feed throughout these posts just to make sure that he didn't go psychotic. Not that I was expecting that, but you just never know what people are going to do when you expose a story like this. I like to cover all of my bases ... always. 

In closing, I am elated so many of you can relate to this story. It really really really means the world to me, but I assure you, telling this story had nothing to do with any of you - and everything to do with me. I was attracting only emotionally unavailable men on OKC, what does that say about me? Addressing the cause of my emotional unavailability was going to be the only way I could move on and execute my next doable action. HAHAHA PUN INTENDED!! =) =) =) 

As far as things with the mentalist goes - there is no more hate left in my heart, no more anger left in my soul - he just is ... and this story will just be. I am however thankful that it no longer belongs to me ... it belongs to each and everyone of you as well. I don't even know if I have the energy anymore to deck him like I did in the begining of these series of posts - I will very genuinely wish him well, and know that because life is reflective, it will take care of me in the end. 

Had it not been for the mentalist, I would have never been at that place of UNBELIEVABLE desperation, and sadness that sprung this website ... and of course if I didn't have the website, I never would have gone on my epic adventure, never would have met you all, and definitely never would have a TV show in development. All I did was want to bring back the joy, and love that I had in my heart for this person. It should actually be a pretty big honor to him that I was able to take all of the energy that I had for our relationship and accomplish with that same energy something pretty epic. 

I can say though it feels FUCCKKIINNNNGG AMMMAAZIIINNNNGGGGGGGGG to take my power back, and no longer be ashamed of this story.

As far as the mentalist's identity goes? hahhahaha the replies to that have been INTENSE!!!

I have one thing to say to you all ... 

Thank you for reading. 

#nerdsunite

This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 10)

The absurdity that resides inside these glasses will amuse me for seconds. SECONDS I TELL YOU!!! This is the greatest release ever. ever. ever. and I STRONGLY encourage anyone else in this world that has a similar story or a similar experience to please post on it if you have a blog. Like seriously ... re-reading these stories, and hearing what you all have to say about them dilutes the emotional heaviness of it all; it is now your story as much as it is mine. 

Seriously - just do it. ORRRR if you don't have a blog - drop me an email, I'll read your stories (JenFriel at TalkNerdyToMeLover dot com)! A TON of you have already been emailing me (might even post some later tonight), but seriously ... just share it with at least one more person in this entire world, and look at the words on the screen once you have clicked send and are done with it. It very literally doesn't belong to you anymore. AH-MAZING!!! 

How did all of this happen? HAHA!! One conversation with @dustycpollyd over the frustration I was having on my current OKC experiment. I said there's NO WAYYYYY I can tell the world this story, I'm still too close to it. I caught myself, and said to her, you have to walk towards fear in life and walk towards things that make you uncomfortable ... I need to eat my own words and just do it. 

Best. Idea. Ever. 

Alrite, I'm going to start this next one off on a  bit of a tangent that just makes me laugh my ass off now. I listen to a shit ton of 90s music. Like seriously ... the 90s and me are like besties from the mid-westies. I just cannot get enough. 

I remember that summer flipping this song on my ipod, and him freaking out. GOOOOODDDDD I hate this song. This one magician had this as his opening number prior to me going on - and it used to drive me insane. That guy was so full of himself. What do I always say??? Life is reflective?!?!? Hit a little too close to home dear sweet mentalist. MWAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!!! 

Remember, anytime anything in another person irks you, or makes you angry - check yo' self! People just are, and situations will just be. If something in them elicits a response in you, what does that say about you? BOOM!

Alrite on to the next one. 

There is really only one song I could possibly think of playing while writing this ... 

I woke up that morning with this immedate feeling of WHHHAAATTT THHHHEEE FUUUCKKKKK DDIIIDDD IIIII JUUUSSTTTT DOOOOOO??? 

I had posted all that went down on Facebook, told all of my friends, family, dude, even the lady in the grocery store. Like literally, I was a blubbery mess to the entire world - and had total diarrhea of the mouth in just spewing out all of the details of everything. *insert blubbery voice* He. Had. Sex. With. Other. People. OMMMMGGGGGG!!!! 

I said that I had to go, I had to go to my clients office - so uh, peace in the middle east. Dude, I got out of that apartment faster than a hooker gets out of her drawers. I. WANTED. OUT. 

I got in my beetle and started to pull away. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You're so stupid, Jen. How could you ever sit there and think that you're smart. Who does this? Who does this after someone does that to them? I rounded the corner - stupid. stupid. stupid. I come to a stop, and realize I needed his clicker to buzz me out of the gate. 

OMMGGGG YOU'RE SOOOOO STUPPIIIDDDDDD.

I pick up the phone to call him - hi, sorry, forgot I don't have a clicker anymore. I'll be right down, he says. 

He walks down the stairs, and opens the gate. He smiles and waves - bye, I love you. 

Just start driving, smile sweetly, pull away. Just pull away Jen Friel ... PULL THE FUCK AWAY!!!!!!!!! 

I go back to the house, make a mad dash to grab my computer, and drive over to my clients. I was now supposed to sit at a computer for the next 9 hours, tweeting, facebooking, and posting about ornate customizable photo albums, available in a variety of shapes and sizes. 

Yep, this is happening. 

Omg I hate my life. Omg I hate my life. Omg I hate my life. 

I sat behind my macbook pro wanting to just die. None of this is happening, how did I go over there last night - why the fuck did I even take on this client? Who the hell CARESSSS about this shit! Really? Really? Am I doing this right now. I pull their analytics from last week. Alrite, more traffic generated from twitter and Facebook - fine, fuck, I guess I am doing something good here. OMMMMMGGGGGGG is it 5 yet???? 

I was completely, totally, and utterly powerless over the mentalist. He had this chemical, biological hold over me - I just couldn't shake it. I wanted to fucking kill him, while at the same time I wanted to fuck the shit out of him. What is WRRROONNNNNGGGG with meeeeeeee????? 

I drove home from work, after yes, 5pm did finally arrive - and did the only thing I knew how to do ... go on the hunt for a rebound. 

All during this whole mentalist debacle, my very first love ever contacted me saying he was moving back from San Fran and wanted us to move in together. Dude, talk about something that totally came out of left field.

Tangent: My first week in LA I was at a Super Cuts on the westside, going in for a trim ... and the guy next to me gets done with his cut, and hands me this piece of paper saying - "you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I don't want to ask for your number, because I'm sure you get that all the time ... but here's mine if you want to call me." 

Yeah dude, that TOTALLY worked, and I like called him that night. HAHAHA!! Now that's the nerd in me. I cannot play anything cool. ever. at all. ever. HAHAHAHAHA!! 

We dated for a couple of weeks, then he lost his job. He spiraled into this super super super deep depression, and basically took it out on me. It was bad. Really bad. We had amazing sex, and dude, literally - the first time we kissed, I almost fainted. ABBBBSUUURRRDDDD chemistry. 25 is a weird age to date a dude. It's not really until they hit 30 that they're actually date-able. 

Anywho, he totally broke my heart, moved to San Fran ... didn't really talk to him - then out of the blue he told me that his mom died. Like seriously, she had a stroke and just bam ... gone like that. I, of course, immediately get on a plane and visit him in San Fran. This was a few years later mind you - I moved to LA in 2004, this was like, 2008. I had dated other people, been in love one other time - but I just had this thing in the back of my mind for this person. He was my first love. I couldn't let it fully go. On that trip however, I got all of the closure I needed. We were such different people, with such different tastes. Dude, I was 19 when I met him ... 19!?! Come on. 

We kept in touch over the next couple of years. I kept checking in on him, making sure he was okay with everything that was happening. I couldn't imagine losing a parent at our age. Gotta be such a trip. Flash forward to summer of 2009, he decides to move back to LA. He decided on my trip to San Fran that I was the one and he wanted to make a go of us, finally. OMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG how is this my life right now!??!!? I wake up and realize I get closure when you wake up and realize you want to put a ring on it? FUCKKKK MMMEEEEEEE!!!! 

Dude, that was the hardest conversation I have ever had with someone - ever. I told him I was dating someone, and I was in love (this was the mentalist). I thanked him profusely (yes, I thanked him for loving me - what the fuck was I supposed to do?), but told him the timing was off - and that I loved him dearly, always have, always will - but we just couldn't do this right now. 

Yep ... he stopped calling me at that point. 

Tangent over.

I went through my little black book, and was entirely disappointed in my options. Remember, I had just gotten back from being in FL for 7 months, and people in LA are super ADD. People come, people go, it's all about being on radar screens. I wasn't on a single person's radar screen.

Boning some random dude was not an option for me either. It's never honestly been my option. Not mad at it, but I don't get off from it. I wanted that feeling back - I needed to be in love again. I picked up the phone and called my first love. 

Me: Hi. *insert girliest of girly voices* What are you doing later? 

Him: Going to Jones - wanna come? 

Me: Absofuckinglutely. 

I take one look at my first love, and I think yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes. This ... this right here, is EXACTLY what I needed. The dude looked happier than a pig in shit. I sat down, and a few minutes later we were joined by some of his friends (as they had these plans prior - I just kinda crashed 'em). He kept saying to them things like, this is the girl I was telling you all about ... and yeah - this is that Jen ... etc. It was super weird, but everything that I needed. I felt wanted by someone that I loved. Thank you. Thank you. Thank yoouuuuu to the goooddd that I don't believe in!!!!! 

*hallelujah* 

I had an amazing dinner, followed by a couple of drinks, followed by me leaving my car in West Hollywood, and me waking up in his bed in the Valley. 

We spooned the entire night, the whole nine - but I took one look in his eyes that morning, and I realized all I was going to do to him was the same thing the mentalist did to me. This guy loved me. Like loved. loved. loved. loved. loved. me. Like worshipped me. Like very literally would have gone ring shopping if he knew I was going to say yes. I knew what that feeling felt like, and I couldn't in good conscious do that to another person. 

We went out for breakfast, and I just sat there in this weird haze. I didn't have the heart to tell him all that I just went through with the mentalist, when he asked me about my last relationship I brushed it off by saying, yeah well - it didn't work out. Who cares, moving on. You look so good. (Which btw, he very genuinely did. He had finally gotten his act together, and just - wow. This guy is just a gorgeous human being in general.) 

He sat across the table and looked at me so lovingly, like at this moment his life was complete. He was working at a job that he enjoyed, and now the girl that he loved was back in his life. His mom dying gave him this fresh perspective on life, and how short it is - and that if he wanted something he should go and get it. 

FUUUCCKKKKKKKK JENNNNNNNNN!!!! WORST. REBOUND. IDEA. EVER.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I am totally going to break this guys heart. What was I thinking. OMMMGGGGGGGGGGG!!!

He drives me back to my car, and I say goodbye. He asks when we can hang out again, and I say I have no idea. I explained to him that I just picked up a bunch of new clients, and was figuring out all of the scheduling out. I said I would call him, but that I really appreciated last night, and that he had no idea how much it meant to me. He smiled and said, oh I know.

UUGGHHHH!! STOP SPEAKING JEN!!!! He thinks you're saying one thing, but you're saying an entirely different thing, and OMG OMG OMG OMG it's making all of this WORSEE!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!

What am I doing? I should just become a fucking nun, and never have sex or date boys again. I am so bad at this entire bit of EVERYTHING. UGHHHHH!!!!

I get in the car and drive home, making myself a promise, DO NOT REBOUND. There is no part about this that says, yes, Jen, this is a good idea. Just start working and don't stop ... make some money. That you can do.

Alrite, going to take a break now ... Next up, I check Facebook and realize there is a message from Brownie Girl. Oh and ... I invite the mentalist to my birthday at Disneyland. Yep ... I am really this stupid. 

#kthxbye

 Click here to read the next installment

Click here to read the next installment

This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 9)

(This was originally supposed to post last night, but I ran out of battery. haha! still dogsitting - left charger at the house. grrr!!!)

I am literally the nappiest person on the planet right now. Literally and figuratively. I spent the day napping ... OMMMGGG I may need to have a California King Sized bed in my life in the not so distant future - and on another note, I also have yet to shower today. I smell like dog, and overall Jen-ness. Eeeckkkkk!!! 

I don't know why I'm sharing that with you all .... but here, I'll spray some febreeze ... mmmmm passionnnnn frrruuiiiiitttttt. K, all better. 

K ... so if you're not caught up on what's goin down ... here's part one ... here's part one point five ... here's part two ... here's part three ... here's part four ... here's part five ... here's part six ... here's part seven ... and here's part eight.

(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!!!)

Let's get 'er done B.o.B!!! 

The mentalist's building had like a two prong approach; the first step was to be buzzed in from downstairs in the garage. I waited anxiously for him to come down. What am I doing? What am I doing? I just want this feeling back. If I look at him, everything will go back to normal - I know it. Just let all of this go back to normal, please. 

He opens the door, while opening his arms to embrace - I fall into them. It wasn't even a hug, it was more of a full body collapse. He kissed my forehead, and said - let's go little lady. 

We go upstairs, and I just sort of sat there - so vacant. He looked different, he smelled different - he was different. The Minnesota girls were gone at that point; one was just out for the evening, the other left to go back home right around the time the shit hit the fan. She got really spooked by the entire scenario, and didn't really like LA to begin with. Oh yeah ... and did I forget to mention that no one told me that the mentalist and that chickadee totally boned? Yep, she said she was drunk, he was drunk - but um ... she also came out to stay with him for a weekend prior to us all kicking it in San Diego. Really? Really? Really? THAT SHIT PISSED ME OFF!!! And why were you randomly calling him asking him to come down to the San Dizzle if you weren't looking to bone? Did I spoil that surprise? UGHHHH!!!! I feel like at some point, maybe, that might have come up. I harbor no ill will for the girl, but good lord - epic fail on girl code. Epic epic epic fail. 

I just sat in his apartment and stared into space; I was an emotional astronaut floating around in zero gravity. He never apologized, he never said anything really. He just brushed it all off like none of it happened. The air was so thick - it was suffocating. 

Why am I here? What do I want out of this scenario? 

I piped up and said, so I started this website. He goes oh yeah? What's the name of it? It's called "Talk Nerdy To Me Lover." 

Swear to god ... this part I will never forget ... he goes, I'm glad you're starting a site - but I don't like the name. It's too long, people won't remember it. 

(Number one thing I am told over, and over, and over, and over - that is an AWESOME name for a website - hahahhaa suckkkkaaaaaaaaa!!!)

I shrugged him off and thanked him for the input that I didn't ask for. 

I attempted to make small talk, but then I just broke down and said - I really miss my best friend. How could you do this to me? A steady stream of tears fell down my cheeks - he sat down holding me. Tangent: Dude, even his couch was uncomfortable - it was this god awful super expensive Italian leather thing. There was nothing in this scenario that was warm and inviting in any regard ... his touch was cold and vacant; the butterflies were gone.

I very sincerely wish at some point he started to hit me. No, like literally - I wish we had been in a physically abusive relationship - because then, I would have fought back and done something about it (I'm a boxer, I can throw a fucking punch). But with him, it was all emotional and a supreme mind fuck. The intangible nature of it all literally drove me insane. What was left became right, what was up became down. 

He kept saying over and over, stop doing this to yourself. I didn't go anywhere, look I'm right here. We can make all of this go away, and start seeing each other again if you want to. 

Wait, hold the phone - was he really trying to rationalize all that he just put me through? SERIOUSLY?!?!?!!

Remember too, it wasn't like we had a series of fights, and things were on the rocks - etc. I literally went from being head over heels in love to not. (Mind you, of course we had our fights, but this was different. This was betrayal in the rawest form.) 

I get up and say that I have to go. Don't leave me he says, as he starts to cry. 

Fuck, he's crying. I've at this point only seen my dad cry once, my brother cry a couple of times - but never a guy that I've been dating, and certainly not one that I loved. 

I walk over to comfort and hold him. 

SHHH - it's okay. It's okay ... It's okay babe. 

He kisses me. 

I wake up in his bed. 

FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!

K. Lemme get some coffee, new post in a few hours. HIZZUAH!!

#nerdsunite

 Click here to read the next installment

Click here to read the next installment

This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 8)

Dudes, I am having the most awesomely epic night ever. Straight up! I'm bartering a bed for tonight by dogsitting - and uuugghhhhhhhh these little munchkins are making my life. Seriously, we're having a ball. No, like literally - Molly has a ball, and I just ate it. It tasted super yummy.

Wonder what this is going to feel like coming out the other end ... ewe.

DUDE!!!! Nerd flash, my brother just called me - someone totally just tried mugging him tonight. Are you for REALS!??! He's kosher, home safe, but wow - that was a solid half hour out of my incredibly peaceful night that I did not anticipate. Life is short kiddies. Tell the ones you love that you love them. Wow, my heart is pounding. The lioness just came out. That was a very heated and intense conversation. How dare someone fuck with a cub - RAAWWRRRRRRRRR!!!!

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

(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!!!)

HIT IT EM!

K - so here we go. Part 8. 8 is my favorite number - this may or may not be my favorite chapter, haha! I don't plan the posts - just type 'em as I go. Spit it out Jen!!!! Stop stalling!!!

All of these events actually happened over a very short period of time. It was literally the most intense couple of weeks I have ever had in my entire life. I just, wasn't there - I wasn't anywhere.

I was so frustrated with my life at that point. I had spent the entire summer/ fall isolated in the mentalist's apartment - the escape artist allowed me to escape inside love and gave me this new found identity. In his arms I laid, and all was well in the world.

Well, technically speaking, he wasn't much of a cuddler - so I didn't really lay in his arms, but that sounded good, right?

This guy wasn't even nice to me. This is all so frustrating to type out. He wasn't romantic, he never took me out on dates, he never anything. Everything was about him, and because my own self esteem was such shit, I placed my value in him and built him up to make myself feel better.

Crikey.

A couple days after my epic telephone conversation, I attended the #140Conf (November 3, 2009). I took a look around at what I saw and had this MASSIVE SHOT of just BAM; nerds are going to be hot. The writing was on the wall. This was a twitter conference based here in LA, and I sat and absorbed the space on that first day and completely freaked out. The time is now. The time is now. The time is now. All of the people at this conference were hot - and the fact that they were all talking tech was totally surreal. People in LA don't EVERRRRRRRRRRR talk tech. Like ever ever ever. I thought, I'm a nerd - dude, typing at age 2, on prodigy at 8, learning HTML to code my geocities site before I hit puberty - but I was also a model. If nerds are going to be hot, fuck man, I can rally the troops! No one can do this more than me. It was in THAT VERY MOMENT that I had this epiphany of, yes yes yes - let's do this. I'm going to launch a website. I'm going to launch a fucking website.

I went home, sat on my roommates bed - as mine was still in storage, and came up with the name Talk Nerdy To Me, Lover. I was playing around with "talk nerdy to me" since I thought that was cheeky, but the domains were taken. I wish I could say that there was a better story to this, but I literally went through my head and said, who do I want to talk nerdy to me ... who do I want to talk nerdy to me ... sure, my lovers!

I sat there that night and secured the domain, created the template - and BAM!

There I was sitting on that bed so angry at every.single.bit. of my life. HAHA!! Literally, I was like speed typing all of it out. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. If you don't think social media is going anywhere dear sweet mentalist, I'm going to fucking show you. Of course too, I had clients and what not, they weren't exactly letting me be creative - so being a lawyers daughter, I wanted to at least be able to predict the trends and have this shit timestamped so I can be like AH HA!!! TOLD YOUUUUUUUUUU!!!! And hope that that leads to something. I had no idea to be honest. I had just burried my old self, and was ready for a new me.

I didn't care if it was going to be successful, I just had an idea, and a whole shit ton of energy to devote to it. My family was still grieving over my grandmother, I hadn't spoken a word to my friends, and work was anything but satisfying.

I worked to pay rent at a place that apparently I was supposed to have, to put things in that apparently I needed, to "support" myself for this life that I didn't care anything about.

What does this all mean? Why are we here?

I literally had nothing. That's why our official hashtag became #nerdsunite - because I had no one, or nothing to hold on to. I wanted something so desperately ... but nothing was there. I did this to myself, mind you, actions have consequences; isolation leads to being well, isolated.

I had nothing to lose, and nothing mattered to me anymore. Suicide wasn't an option, as I had failed twice before - so fuck it. If I really really was going kill myself, why not go out with a bang? I made a conscious decision to start to only do things that felt good - since well, it fucking felt good! 

Social media felt GREAT!!!!!!!! I didn't really know what I wanted to do in it, but I knew just talking about it totally got me off. Afterall, the mentalist made fun of me relentlessly for sitting on Mashable day and night.  

(uuuhhhhh Pete Cashmore, want to touch the hiney)

If I was going to die, this was going to be it. So why not start to live?

It all sounded crazy to me at the time, but I very literally Just.Didnt.Care. People, places, things - all noise. The website it was. I finally found a place to put all of this energy that I had.

After staying up all night, my body finally succumbed to sleep. I was so excited, I had an idea, and I had something to do. This is going to be GREAT!

I woke up the next morning to my phone beeping - it was a text ... from the mentalist. He said he missed me. I took a deep breath, while I contemplated what to text back. Do I even text back? This whole thing, man - it's taken so much out of me.

Tears streamed down my face as I typed "my heart hurts. please, make my heart stop hurting."

I know, babe - I know, he texted back.

He told me to stop being silly, and to come over, as he had just come back from tour.

Come over? What was happening?! How can you text that to me?! I was so vulnerable, and wanting so much of all of this to just go away.

I did the only thing I knew how to do - I turned to work. A fellow SEO had emailed me overnight asking to meet up for lunch. An escape, YES!!!!! We went and had lunch - anything to keep me away from the mentalist. 

We sat there and discussed at great lengths SEO and how social media is changing the game. Google wasn't pulling tweets in their searches yet, but it was worthy of noting that social media was becoming a place that people went to for information. The packaging of SEO and social media was going to be of the utmost importance in the future, as those were the two places people went to access information. If you could understand how to place information in those two places, you're golden.

Great lunch, nice dude - went home and drowned myself in work. I didn't want to think, I didn't want to feel, I didn't want to process ... I just wanted my social media, it was the only thing that made me feel good. 

I kept my phone on my desk as I worked. I kept looking over at my phone. Did he text me? Did he text me? Wait, omg, was that the indicator light I saw? The sucky thing too about working in social media is that when you have a break up, it's super hard to not stalk the person you broke up with in social media.

Do I look at his twitter page? Or do I not look at his twitter page? Ugh. Facebook ... just go to Facebook ... no wait, I'm going to block him on Facebook. YES! YES! YES! Block him on Facebook!! Can I block his specific URL on twitter too?? How do I stop myself from looking at his twitter feed. Stop it, Jen! Stop it!!!!!!!

WWHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY did this have to happen, I thought!!! Can't I go back? Can't I PLEASEEE JUST GO BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

I broke down and texted him. "I miss my best friend," I typed.

The mentalist and I had a very freaky bond. Again, I know it was potentially programmed, etc. But I loved this human being. I loved. loved. loved. this human being. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this human being. I wanted to be the mother of this human being's children. I just ... wanted him. The emotional escape artist wanted her escape.

He texts me back, "come over. be here now."

I think about it ... and think about it ... grab my keys, and walk out the door.

I drive over to Hollywood, and I approach his parking garage. There it is, again. THAT garage. Stop it, Jen. Just do it. You miss him - talk to him.

I didn't go over there expecting anything; I didn't want to punch him, I didn't want to hurt him at all - I just wanted that same old feeling to come back. I wanted to be put under his spell once again, and to forget all about this world that was my new, sobering, reality.

I pulled into a parking spot, and sent him a text - "I'm here. Come down."

Alrite, el nerderinos - it's getting kinda late and this is a good place to stop for now. The next part makes me super sad. And oh yeah, brownie girl emails me. Fucking bat shit that chick is. BAHHHHHHHHH!!!

Thanks so so much for reading guys. Seriously - this is so unbelievably cathartic.

#nerdsunite

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This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story (Part 7)

Dudes, there is so much healing going on from this story - its kinda blowing my mind. First off, heard from the chickadee that called me a bitch the other day, and she apologized for her role in all of this. She said she felt bad for so long ... I said it takes two to tango, and I certainly had my role as well. We all did. ANNNDDD she also paid this series the greatest compliment ever, she said I'm telling it incredibly accurately. She said she's even addicted to it, and she lived it first hand. Bat shit!

As a storyteller you have to stay as neutral as possible while trying to convey the heart and the emotion of the story. It's not an easy task to do with a story like this. I wondered initially if I was telling it as accurately as I could be. Thanks for the confirmation!

Alrite ... ready for the next chapter of As The Rubiks Cube Turns??? Baller!

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

(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!!!)

HIT IT GAGA!!!

I walked into the apartment, and I was literally shaking. Who was this person that I was living with? The stories that I were hearing had his name in them, but it just didn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense ...

It doesn't make sense ...

Why doesn't ANY of this MAKE SENSE!!!!!

I fell to the floor with my jaw dropped. All of my tears at that point were gone ... the blood drained from my face making me white as a ghost (I'm pretty effin pale to begin with too. Goodness gracious).

This isn't real life. What is happening? Who is this person? What did I get myself into?

I didn't even unpack, I just sat there among boxes, bags and clothing staring off into space.

The night drew on, and turned to the morning. I decided I couldn't even emotionally process any of this yet, so I was going to do the only thing I knew how to do ... move on. Work is very therapeutic for me. Hence why I love love love running this site and love love love running this brand in general - it allows me to maximize my potential. I need to stay busy. I hadn't worked at all for a few months, not good for my psyche. Fortunately, however - the social space was in fact booming so after a few quick phone calls, my client list was building up quite nicely.

I used to love me some freelancing since you mostly get to work from home. There was only one client that I added that wanted me to work from their office. Not a prob, one day a week, you pay my rate - I smile sweetly. Done! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

One of my first days in their office, I was driving home and I hear BAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM - my tire blew out. I don't even necessarily know if it blew out - or what ... but that fucker was a goner, and my beetle was not a happy camper about it. I pulled over on Venice Blvd.

FUCKKKKK MMMMMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCKKKKK MMMMMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCKKKKK MMMMMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

I compartmentalized my catastrophized thoughts and focused on the next doable action, calling AAA.

Not a problem, says the guy. We'll send someone out for you. It'll be about an hour. Mind you, my face was literally buried in the steering wheel, my body was so defeated - I was shocked I was still able to even hold the phone up to have this conversation.

An hour. A fucking hour. Good lord.

I did what any chick that just had her heartbroken would do when she finds herself with unexpected time on her hands ... I proceeded to Facebook stalk the mentalist. (I had unfriended him at that point, but his page was public.) I got on my Droid, flipped over to his page, and my eyes almost bugged out. Literally, 5 minutes prior to me stalking, some girl had posted on his wall the following message:

I HATE YOU XXXXXXXX!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE AFTER TWO YEARS YOU COULD DO THIS TO ME. EVIL RUNS THROUGH YOUR BLOOD.

Again, yay life for photographic memory.

I blink twice, is this for real? What is happening in my life that makes me keep asking that same question over and over? Did this chick really post this on his wall? Who is she? Wow! Wow! Wow!

I IMMEDIATELY click her profile, and from my phone sent her a message. Who are you? Did he do the same thing to you? What's going on with that post on the mentalists wall?!??! 

5 minutes later, I get a response. She said she knew who I was, and offered her phone number. She wanted me to call her to discuss things.

Whatttttttt is going on here. Tangent: I keep writing that over, and over, but I assure you - I couldn't stop thinking it. This was very literally the most bat shit thing on the planet. So, he did something to this chick too? She knew about me? And now she wants to discuss what happened on the phone? Like voice to voice communication? I don't do voice to voice communication with just anyone. Omg omg omg ... this is happening.

The hour passes by, but fear, anxiety, and anticipation pump through my blood. What is she going to say? OMG I have to get home.

I walk into the apartment, and close the door to my bedroom - I stare down at my phone. I cannot dial her number, I cannot do this - I just want this all to be over. Why isn't any of this over yet?!

I take a deep breath, and click the green button.

Ring ring ring - Hello? comes out of the ear piece.

Fuck, she even sounds hot.

Hi, it's Jen.

Jen ... I can't believe it. I always asked him about you, I had such a feeling that you two were together. Please, tell me everything.

She had no idea how loaded of a question that was.

Well, I said - here's the thing ...

I then proceeded to tell her the longest. story. ever. (See parts 1-6)

She starts crying. Horrified at what I am telling her.

She then tells me that she and him had been dating for 2 years - and she thought they were going to get married. She met his family, they all loved her. (She's from his hometown - or not far, I can't remember.)

She kept crying, and I kept listening. I had no idea what to say to her.

I want him dead - we have to get revenge, she said.

I told her that revenge and anger are like throwing a hot stone at someone, you both end up getting burned. The best thing we could do is to wish him well. Tangent: I very literally btw, could not believe these words were coming out of my mouth. I had no idea what to say to this chick, I hadn't even processed what I was going through but I found relief in guiding her healing.

I said over and over, please, just wish him well. We are both going to move on, and we are both going to do bigger and better things. Yes, this is very sad - and I can't believe this is happening ... but doing something to harm him, or doing something stupid will only hurt you too and tie you emotionally to him longer. We can't do that, we just have to let it go and let it be. Be well mentalist. Be well mentalist. Be well mentalist.

We spent about two hours on the phone piecing together the timeline of our relationships with the mentalist. Remember the trip the mentalist went on to Jamaica right after visiting me in Florida (see part 1) - well, he was going to this chick's brother's wedding. Yep, right after he boned me for a week ... he went down there to hang out with her and her family.

She said she had been going back and forth to LA up until that summer. I said, yeah that's when I moved in! She goes OMGGGGG you guys lived together! I said yeah.

The mentalist's apartment was super fucking weird - he had literally everything a female could need. Tampons, to contact cases, chick shampoo, even make up. I quickly realized some of the items I had been using were in fact hers.

Fucking. Weird.

I hung up the phone with her, and sat on the side of my bed and just started laughing. Like hysterically laughing. Good lord this guy is a fucking idiot, I thought. Social media is the worst thing to ever happen to someone like this. HAHAHAAHAHA!!! Facebook connects dots - and mannnnnnn did we have some epic connecting.

HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAAH!!! omg I couldn't stop laughing.

I don't know if she had called him, or what - but a few minutes after I caught my breath, the phone rings and it was the mentalist. I pick up the phone and continue to laugh in his face. I wasn't even mad anymore, I said to him - you've got to be fucking kidding me.

HAHAHAHAHAAHAH! You are such an idiot, at least unfriend chicks on Facebook if you think they're about to go psycho on you. You're a mind reader right? How did you not see that one coming?

I told him that we had talked - and I knew everything. Then, I did something even I didn't suspect - I asked how he was feeling. You have to understand, I loved this human being. Like loved. loved. loved. Love doesn't go away. It's a bond that you share with someone til death do you both part. It evolves, but that's about it.

He started crying. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I miss you. I love you. I kept saying over and over and over, be well. He got more angry, how can you say that to me? I said, how could YOU do this to people? Who are you? You told us both you loved us. How can that be possible?

Please don't leave me - he said, please don't leave me.

I said, there's nothing to leave. We weren't together. I was under some fucked up spell clearly. I commend you on your talents, if I can fall for it - anyone can. You should bottle your shit and sell it - I'd buy. (Dude, I'm so twisted.) I told him to be gentle on himself, that this all coming out was going to happen eventually.

I asked him about brownie girl. Is she really pregnant? He said he didn't know. He told her to have an abortion if she is - but he had a feeling she was just doing something like this to establish a connection with him. Remember, this chick BAKED BROWNIES!!!! WHO BAKES BROWNIES IN LA!!!!! She clearly just did that so she could then ask for her dish back. Woman is dumb as a fox.

I said, I was over it - and this conversation wasn't going to happen. I needed to move on with my life, and start to put the pieces back together.

I hung up the phone and started crying. He was hurting, I was hurting. Why did I ever have to find out about that Facebook email? I just kept thinking over and over and over, I really wish I knew nothing. Ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is truly bliss.

Yet another night, I cried myself to sleep.

Alrite- gonna take another break here. This story has a little bit more to go. Did I mention that I went back to him? Yup, that happened.

Oh, and this story has an update as of a few days ago. I got an email from one of the chicks - and it was GOOOOODDDD!!! =) =) =)

#ohbrother

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