#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 3)

UGHHH!!! I am so. so. so. not looking forward to posting this. Like, I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop specifically because I didn't want the energy lingering in the house from this post. Well, that, and our internet is down. But I totes could have written it on a text doc and just posted elsewhere, but again, I didn't want that energy lingering.

This story is old for me, but something that very literally gave me my balls to the wall mentality. I have very literally seen it. been there. and done that. in regards to a lot of things in life. Albeit, I am humbled and grateful for what the future holds, the past was definiteeelllyyy interesting.

All that being said - here is part one, and part two. Part three though, is where shit gets real.

K ... so Amber was totally my sister from a different mister. She broke me out of my shell, and she gave me this identity that I had searched for my entire scholastic career. However, our obsession with each other hit a tipping point my junior year of high school and I knew knew knew I needed to break away, but I had no idea where to even begin.

Enter summer school ... and enter Sarah. Sarah and I didn't have an obsession with each other ... at all ... she was just cool. Really liked the chick. She was a lot like Amber, but different at the same time. She equally had an interesting family life to say the least, but I viewed Sarah as my ticket to sort of wean off of Amber.

The only problem with this scenario is that Amber was like a part of my family. My parents called her their adopted daughter, and coming from someone who's own parents were going through a VERY nasty divorce, it presented variables that I did not anticipate.

I'm very much like a mother hen. I've always been a bit of a caretaker, and even in high school I just made sure they were okay, doing their homework - whatevs. They didn't have the home life that I did - they didn't have the parents that I had, or even someone who cared. These girls would stay out so late and I ALWAYS had a strict curfew. I don't want to say that their parents didn't care, but were pre-occupied with their own issues if you will.

That being said, that summer in summer school was GREAT. Not only did I have a bitchiiinnnn average, but I got to be friends with Sarah and some of her crew and break away from Amber.

There was this other girl in school with us named Valerie - and Valerie and Sarah went way back to, well - I don't know what to - but they knew each other for a while. We were kinda like the three musketeers in that class. I pretty much had all of the answers to whatever question or test we had to take, and they introduced me to their friends and their social circle (which was surprisingly huge for being in summer school).

Tangent: AHHHHHHHH OMG you guys, my body is like RESISTING telling this story hardcore. I very literally want to JUMP OUT OF MY SKIN right now!!! UGH!!!! Fuck man, it's not even like this is painful for me anymore, but it's just something I laid to rest almost a decade ago. It's so hard to revisit because it's just so draining. But I can't not talk about it since this is my reality right now with going back to Connecticut in just a couple weeks. FMLLLLLL!!! I love you all, but fuck, this isn't easy. Alrite - gimme a song. That'll make it better.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

There we go. I feel so over my head right now writing this story it's not even funny. No like literally - it's not funny at all. This isn't an attempt to be witty. Tangent over.

That summer was great. Very literally I felt like the queen of summer school, and coming from someone who wasn't even the queen of the uncool in school - was pretty effing rad. Nice icing on the cake before the end of my scholastic career.

Summer turned to fall, and it was time for everyone to go back to school ... except of course me, because I finished early. Again though, because I didn't walk with 2001, I was still technically enrolled with my class of 2002, and could attend all senior activities and my own graduation the following June.

I busied myself that fall working full time saving money to move to NYC. Well, not full time exactly - two part time jobs ... one was working as a barista at Starbucks in Bishops Corner in the morning, and at night teaching classes and working reception at the local modeling agency - which btw, Amber introduced me to.

Low and behold, sometime during their senior year - Amber and Sarah became friends. My definition of my worst nightmare. Sarah was supposed to be my ticket to be able to escape Amber's hold, the fact that these two were becoming friends was just ... devastating.

See, Sarah became a cheerleader either that year, or the year before, ANNDD one of Amber's friends, let's call her, Mandy, was a cheerleader as well (captain I believe). So, not only did Amber and Sarah have me as a mutual friend, they also had Mandy. I knew Mandy as well having been a cheerleader myself for .25 seconds.

Tangent: Yeah that was a nightmare. I'm not a team player in that regard; I can't be on a team with people that suck - I'm sorry. Our cheerleaders sucked, man - and I just wasn't feeling a minute of it. I just wanted to wear the skirt and sincerely fulfill my dream of being Kelly Kapowski.

Prior to Sarah and Mandy hanging out, Amber, Mandy and I used to kick it. We never really got along though, and never ever hung out just the two of us. Our personalities were just very different. Not mad at the girl, but whatever.

Either way, that year Amber, Mandy, and Sarah totes became besties. FMMMLLLLLL I thought. Damnit, now I'm screwed.

I had opened up to Sarah as well about my hesitations about my relationship with Amber. I explained to her that I thought it was borderline an obsession and that I played a major role in it as well - but we had take a break if you will. I HAD to develop my own identity, I just didn't know what to do.

She said she had no idea as well, but was a welcomed shoulder to all of my frustration.

How can you love someone but recognize at the same time that the friendship has grown in an unhealthy manner?

What do you do?

I felt so lost. My parents didn't know what to do - Sarah was literally the only person in the world that I thought could understand. She knew that Amber was a great person too, but offered as much guidance as she could to my problem.

I thanked her profusely, and we continued to bond more over the coming months.

Flash forward to October of 2001 - aka one of the worst months of my life.

I got a call that first weekend of the month from Sarah asking for a ride from this party. See, even if I didn't go to a party I always offered for my friends to call me at any hour for a ride just so they wouldn't have to drive drunk. I had the car, and the understanding parents who offered to do the same for me, it was the least I could do. They had never offered to take me up on it, until that night.

Sarah and Mandy had been at a cheerleading party, and I guess they started drinking or whatever - but either way, Sarah called me on someone's house phone, and then oddly enough started grilling me about Amber. I very honestly don't remember how it started to play out - but she said, something along the lines of, so have you managed the Amber situation any better?

I told her that I hadn't, but was looking forward to just working and keeping my distance from her as much as possible.

Oh really, Sarah replies.

Is it really that bad?

You have no idea, I lamented.

I hung up the phone, prepared to get in my car to pick up Sarah - and two seconds later the phone rang back (these are all land lines mind you) - it was Mandy. 

Hey, we don't need the ride, we're cool, just gonna crash here.

Okay, I thought. Whatevs. I'm super tired so I'm grateful ... just promise me you're not going to drive?

Promise.

I hung up the phone and went to sleep. Little did I know that that night was going to be the last night I would have a good night sleep for a few years.

October 8, 2001. I was off that day from both jobs, for whatever reason - and my mom just happened to be working from home that day as well.

Sometime in the afternoon (presumably after school), the house phone rang.

::ring ring::

I look down at caller ID, it's Amber.

AHHHH fml. I'm too tired - I'll talk to her later. I let it go to the answering machine.

My pager starts beeping. 911. 911. 911.

911? Ah fuck, alrite.

I pick up the house phone and call Amber back. 

Sorry, I was in the bathroom, what's up?

How dare you.

How dare me?

I heard what you said, you fucking bitch.

Wait, what?

I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID TO SARAH!! I WAS LISTENING ON THE PHONE!! She screamed into my ear.

My heart starts pounding.

I sit up from the couch a bit shocked, and feeling so unbelievably betrayed.

My heart sinks.

Amber, it's not what you think.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I CREATED YOU! YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING BITCH AND I AM GOING TO FUCK YOUR SHIT UP!

I slammed down the cordless phone fearing that somehow her anger could reach through it.

Dudes, in my 26 years on this Earth, I have never heard someone so angry.

She calls back.

::ring ring::

I race out of the library and RUNNNNN down the bedroom wing screaming into my mom's office - DO NOT ANSWER THE PHONE!! DO NOT ANSWER THE PHONE!!

The machine picks up.

Hi, you have reached the Friel residence ...

She calls back.

::ring ring::

Mom, whatever you do, do NOT answer the phone.

My mom starts to panic, what is going on Jennifer? What did you do?

I told my mom not to worry, that Amber and I were finally having it out, but I had to let her calm down.

The machine picks up.

Hi, you have reached the Friel residence ...

She calls back.

::ring ring::

This went on for about 15 minutes.

Jennifer, you have got to stop this - I have to get back to work. I apologize and offer to unplug the office phone.

I go back into the library attempting to calm down as I was literally shaking. I turn back on the TV and start sobbing, how could Sarah do something like that to me? I don't understand how she could betray my trust! Amber was listening the ENTIRE time?!?! What?!?!!?

A couple of minutes go by, the phone stops ringing.

Silence.

Dead silence.

... too much silence.

I start to hear the bass from a car. I LEAP up, oh no ... oh no ...

The bass gets closer and closer - I look up out the window just above the couch.

It's Amber.

She's here.

Alrite, I gotta take a break, my OWN heart is currently pounding. Things get obviously more intense from here. Exactly 27 days later Amber, Valerie, and Sarah were all arrested.

YUPPPP!!! This is happening.

Thanks again everyone for reading these series of posts, btw. I greatly appreciate it. Again though, because I am posting this on Facebook - if we did go to high school together, please do not comment including anyones real name. Obviously I have changed them in this story - I am not looking to air out their dirty laundry, just be very frank with an experience that shaped my life.

#namaste

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#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 2)

So, as you all know from reading this site for like longer than .25 seconds - I am clearly like the most EXCITED person to be alive on this planet. Like literally. That being said, no one is born viewing life that way - wait, "no one" is the wrong term ... lemme say that very very very few are born viewing life that way. Whew - way better. I am grateful to be alive because when I was 16, I was very very very certain I was going to die. I don't say that to be dramatic; it's incredibly matter of fact and documented in court records. It also speaks to why my parents are still so overprotective of me, and why when I launched this site they couldn't speak to me, because they very literally couldn't take it after this happened. And certainly this is one of the reasons why I haven't been back to Connecticut for a prolonged visit in almost a decade.

Again, please note that names and certain locations have been changed.

Here's part one. And now onto part two ...

So, freshman year - we were besties. Yes, we fought like cats and dogs, but anyone that is that "close" would have as well. That part didn't make us special, just awesome. Tangent: It is interesting though the more I think about this story, the more that I know that I blocked so much of it out. This is very literally my best attempt, and obviously just my side of it.

Freshman year turned to sophmore year, and I was becoming more and more comfortable in my skin. I'm a very vocal person, but prior to being friends with this girl (let's call her Amber), I didn't really have a scholastic identity. I wasn't in a crowd, I was merri-weather friends with everyone - but had no best friends. Part of that was due to just moving to West Hartford the year prior, and the other part of it was something I felt inside of me; I was absolutely ... 100% incapable of fitting in. Ever. I was just sort of ... there. As a teen, that is the last thing anyone wants. We're so impressionable at that age, and high school itself is such a vicious place, you have to find your like tribe or you will be eaten alive.

Me and Amber were sisters from a different mister. It did however always bother me that during freshman year, everyone called her the hot one, and I was the cute one with the personality. It equally bothered her that boys didn't think she had a personality or that she was smart (the whole southern thing didn't help ... no offense, but this is Connecticut peoples. We're very judgmental from the womb.).

But something happened sophmore year - I'm sure it was because I was finally hitting puberty, YAYY!! Finally a B-Cup! Well, only after I stuffed, which is like the dumbest thing on the planet because then dudes think you have tits only to find out you did a switch-a-roo!! Evil! Own what you got youngins! No matter what, you'll never think it is enough.

ANYYWAYYYY ... something happened that year. I just started shedding my skin, and it pissed Amber off ... a lot. I got bit parts in a couple of plays, and boys were definitely starting to take notice. She used to say to me, I created you. You only look this way because of ME!

And she was right to a certain degree. I did take my make up, hair, and clothing tips from her - but there was also genuinely something inside of me that I decided to unleash for the first time. Something inside of me that I let shine. Something inside of me that I let ... free.

She gave me permission to wear heels, and break free from my cardigans and show my rockin little bod. HOLLER!!!

I learned a lot from Amber in those first few years, I very literally loved that girl so much - I idolized her.

At the beginning of junior year, my guidance counselor sat me down and realized that I had too many credits to be a junior.

Wait, what? I said.

Yeah - way to be such a nerd that even school takes notice and calls you out on it.

She asked me, what would you think about graduating early? If you take summer school english, and do a quarter of an independent study in gym - you can be done before senior year.

I very literally took so many classes in school, they advised me to finish early. I kid you not.

I was obviously SUPPERRRR stoked at hearing this news; I had always been an overachiever, and took so many classes out of wanting to just keep my brain busy. But getting out of school an entire year early? Fuck yeah, man! I can follow my dreams and head to NYC!!!!

Yes. Yes. Yes. I said. Sign me up!

I remember running into my class so excited at the news I had just received, and equally excited to tell Amber.

I don't remember exactly where I told her, or what the circumstances were - but I do know she wasn't pleased.

You can't leave me.

I'm not gonna leave you! Well, kinda - but not really like that, and in that way.

She then started to criticize me. Again, I don't remember what she said exactly - but it was more a matter of, you're going to miss out on so much - who leaves their senior year? You have prom, senior skip day, graduation!

I'm still going to walk with the class, and I can still go to prom and all of the activities since I'll technically be enrolled, I just don't have to go to actual classes.

That's weird, she said. Who does that?

I half smiled, still confident in my decision and still eager to pursue my dreams of moving to the big city despite the blatant resentment of my best friend.

Shortly into my junior year, Amber became obsessive. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but I remember one instance in particular that still makes the hair on the back of my neck stick up.

I had gone to a dinner with my family at my grandparents house, and I chose not to tell Amber where I was going that evening out of genuinely wanting to start to distance myself from her. Yeah, no joke - she knew where I was pretty much at every waking moment. We were in CONSTANT communication due to my blue pager (yes PAGER!!), cell phone, and even my private landline in my room; to say she and I were joint at the hip was a gross understatement.

I was at my grandmothers house when my cell started to blow up - I let the calls go to voicemail.

Then my pager goes off - 911. 911. 911.

Caller ID at the house had indicated she called multiple times there as well. When I got home, I finally checked my voicemail.

You have two new messages:

Message one ... I've been calling you, and you're not answering. Where are YOU!?!?!

Message two ... I just called XXX and found out where you were. I don't know why you didn't tell me you were just at a dinner. Bye.

I remember hearing those messages, and knowing what I had to do - I had to get new friends. I loved Amber. I loved her a lot. Dude, my family loved Amber! They called her their adopted daughter. (Yes, my parentals after a while got over the whole wearing make up and wearing skankier clothing. My grades were still stellar, and I was about to graduate high school. They decided to ease up a bit.)

It wasn't an easy decision to make, but one that I felt in my gut I had to do. Amber also had gone through a tremendous lot over her high school years. Her parents were getting a divorce and it was incredibly. incredibly. incredibly. nasty. The things her parents did were just ... sad. And something that still to this day makes me feel incredibly sorry for her. I can't imagine being in an environment like that during those formative emotional years.

I didn't know what my next doable action is in weaning off a friendship. I didn't want to stop being friends with her, but I knew this hold she had over me had to come to an end. I did the only thing I knew how to do - I drowned myself in school work, and school related activities.

That spring I had a big part in the school play - even got to go out on stage in lingerie and a towel. Super scandalous for a high school play, but haha - made me very. very. popular. Well, when I say popular, I mean like people other than my parents thought I was cool.

I also got to go to a dance that year with a boy that I had a supperrrr crush on. Like SUPPERRR crush on. A total first for me since I didn't ever get to go to those kinda things with a boy. (Hilarious though that we didn't even kiss, nor did we really do anything ever after the dance. We're totes besties on Facebook now - but he had no game ... at all, and I was a massive prude.) Things were definitely looking up for me, and they were completely independent of Amber for the first time in my high school career. 

Junior year ended, and so did my daily conversations with Amber. She had been involved in a pretty serious relationship throughout all of high school, so she kept plenty busy as well. I was looking forward to summer school so I could just put all of this behind me and look forward to my future living in New York City!!! 

On the first day of summer school, I noticed a familiar face in the class - it was this chick that I had math with junior year that was super quiet, but seemed super sweet. I sat down next to her.

Hi, I'm Jen! I know we had math last year, but I just wanted to say hi since we didn't really get to talk.

Hi, I'm Sarah.

Nice to meet you, Sarah!

Sarah and I instantly became new besties. Mostly I'm sure in part because after that first day, she saw me drive away from school in my white convertible that my parents had bought me after I turned 16.

We used to kick it almost every day after school. I was so excited to have a friend outside of Amber, and so excited that we had so much in common!

The way she dressed, the way she talked - we were so much alike. I didn't look up to Sarah in the same way that I did to Amber, but we just had so much fun that I didn't have to. It was different, my skin was already shed.

Dudes, summer school was a BRREEEEEEEEEZZZEEEEEE!!!! Like when I say it was a breeze, you very literally have no idea-  I graduated with 110% average. Was like crazy easy, and honestly a lot of fun.

Sarah had introduced me to a bunch of her friends, and finally I felt like I had a safe way to wean off Amber and not be weird or disrespectful about it.

People are naturally supposed to outgrow each other, right?

Yeah. Wrong.

The next part of this story gets intense. Basically, my grand idea to keep Amber and Sarah separate totally blew up in my face, and resulted in them getting arrested with the following charges accumulated from just the two of them:

one count of second-degree stalking, five counts of second-degree harassment, one count of breach of peace and three counts of threatening.

and ...

two counts of second-degree harassment, two counts of threatening and one count of breach of peace.

Yep, shits about to get real.

#staytuned

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#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 1)

Okey dokey - I have a story to tell. I'm just not entirely sure what is going to come out of my mouth ... that is being further compounded by legalities involved with this story (names and locations have been changed). At the same time however, I think it is something a LOT of people will be able to relate to, so I feel like I can't not tell it. I will refrain from naming names, even the heavy details of the story - I will merely dictate the emotional journey it took me on. 

ALLLLLL this being said, there is a reason why I haven't been back to Connecticut in almost a decade. Yes, my parentals left the area as well like 5 years ago - but that's not the reason either. When I was 16, I was stalked by 4 of my former best friends. Well, 2 of them were my best friends - the other 2 were very good friends ... but I was the first person in Connecticut to get a restraining order in a non-sexual relationship. This was pre-mean girls, and pre-all of the cyber bullying laws that are just now coming into place. (It's all a matter of public record too. I was a minor at the time, so I might be Jane Doe - but I'm actually pretty certain if you sleuth around the net enough, you can prolly find some stuff on it.) 

I don't know where to begin with this - it honestly goes back to me perpetually being a loner. I never really had good friends in school. I was born in Bristol, CT and moved to West Hartford (where I call home), CT the summer of 7th grade. Living in Bristol was weird. I'm not like mad at it, but I never fit in ... anywhere ... at all. I tried, and as anyone knows with kids the second you ever try to fit in - they pull back even more. You can't try in school, you just have to be. I had a handful of close friends, but I so so so desperately wanted to be in with the popular kids, and all they wanted from me was the answers to homework and to copy off my english test. It sucked, but I was a sucker, and let 'em copy. Of course, afterwards I would offer to help tutor them so that they could understand what they copied - but I got laughed off. 

I never had a social life in school - at all, particularly in Bristol. My parents were mildly well off as well at that point, which ostracizes you even  more because Bristol is a middle class town, and the second you have a little more than someone else, they get weird. My parents were also together and madly in love, and the majority of my friends came from broken homes. It's like, oh wait, you have TWO parents at parent teacher conferences?? HAHAHA!! What a joke! I really really really disliked living in Bristol, but I didn't know any better - so whatevs. 

Then came moving to West Hartford - yayyyyy a fresh start. Kids don't know me here - I can immediately befriend the cool kids and be ... "in." Um. Yeah. No. 

Over achievers must like secrete a specific hormone that the slackers in school are allergic to. It's like, oh, you try? PPPFFTTTT get away! 

The weirdest difference between Bristol and West Hartford though was that in Bristol the slackers were the cool kids and they were cool because they were failing, or one degree above. So BAD ASS!!! In West Hartford, the cool kids had all of the fancy tutors, and yes "slacked" but by slacking it meant they were only doing one extra curricular sport in addition to all of their honor societies. It was SUCH a culture shock moving to West Hartford. I just very literally cannot stress that enough. 

There I was in Bristol, the sort of rich girl, with the super kickin grades, who wasn't popular, but at least took pride in said lack of popularity because every teacher loved me. My first year in West Hartford was so so rough. 8th grade - I was miserable. Dude, I couldn't even get my own religion right! There I was a Catholic, in LITERALLY an all Jewish town. Fail. 

I didn't have a social life - I talked to people, but they never invited me anywhere. I was no longer the richest girl in class (although I DID have the coolest house in town - built by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright!) - so people didn't even use me for all of the cool toys or whatever that I had anymore. And copying off my tests? In 8th grade, I got my very first C. I was high honors student. I left Bristol the STUDENT OF THE YEAR ... I wasn't even the student of the month in 8th grade. 

I hit a funk. The ONNNEEEE thing in my life, my grades, I relied on so so so strongly - were slipping between my fingers. The kids in West Hartford were just SO different! They were so UNBELIEVABLY competitive, and honestly downright cruel. Boys teased me relentlessly (and not like in the cutesey sort of way, in the please go home and die kinda way). I ran for student council that year and only won because it was unopposed. I thought I could seek solace in at least working in the school government, and all I wound up doing was briefly dating the student council president who gave me my first french kiss that still haunts me. Way way way too much pressure and tongue. EEECKKK!! 

Either way, I finished up middle school and looked forward to high school. Yes, HIGH SCHOOL!!! I dreamt my entire life of being Kelly Kapowski from Saved by the Bell. To hell if I was going to let that slip!!! Well, my worst case scenario was I would have been Jesse Spano, but even after my one year in middle school there, even that wasn't looking promising.

"I'm so excited ... I'm so excited

::jesse breaks down:: I'm so ... scared" 

I was DETERMINED to do something with my life when it came to high school. I was going to have that DREAM life promised to me by the kids at Bayside High. This is going to be the greatest year EVER I thought!!! 

I don't remember my first day of high school - I just remember feeling incredibly overwhelmed; everything looked so big. Well, everything except the lockers which were surprisingly even smaller than the ones in middle school. I had NO idea how my stuff was going to fit into those things. Like for REAL!!! I carry a lot of books, yo! Well a lot of books, and a lot of super old moldy tupperwear containers. Ecckkkk!! 

Tangent, Jen, Tangent. 

Anywho - I remember going into english class that first week and totally seeing this super cute chick (like seriously, this girl was hands down one of the prettiest chicks at our school), who was clearly new, in class. I don't remember if the teacher put us next to each other or if I just sat next to her ... but either way, I struck up a conversation. 

Hey, I really like your nails - I whispered, commenting on her french tipped acrylics. 

Thank you. 

This chick just breathed coolness. She was effortless. Well, not like entirely effortless as she did wear a lot of makeup, but she was so composed, and her clothes were SOOOOO cool looking - night and day from my white knit old navy cardigan. 

Yep, totally just had my first girl boner. I absolutely HAD to be friends with this chick. Especially after the year I just had, my life depended on it. 

Class ended, and I asked her if she was new to the area.

Yes, she replied with her thick southern accent. 

Where from?

Texas. 

Wow, quite the change! 

Yeah. It's deffinntteelllyyy different here. 

I told her that I had also just moved here the year prior, albeit just a few towns over, but equally felt like a fish out of water. 

Mind you, I knew people at the school. I've always been one of those people that knew a lot of people, but wasn't really "friends" with anyone socially outside of school; a perpetually extroverted introvert dying to shed the introversion if you will. 

She and I became fast friends. Like crazy, fast, friends. We had two classes together, and I just absolutely idolized this girl.  The way guys responded to her, her attitude, her clothing - she walked into a room and just owned it. It wasn't long until we were both practically living at each other's houses. We talked at great lengths about our dreams, and life - but let's keep it real, conversations revolved around mostly boys, and which ones we had crushes on and how we were going to get them. 

She was hilarious, and for the first time in my life I got it - I finally. finally. had a friend. A best friend! 

As the months went on, my parents grew more and more concerned on her influence over me. We spent hours on the phone every night, that is if we weren't IMing each other back and forth, or hanging out together at Bishops Corner and the mall. My attitude which was once very sweet after perpetually living the life of a goody two shoes, was growing more and more bitchy and curt. This girl gave me an identity. I had spent my ENTIRE scholastic life wanting so badly to fit in somewhere - and with her, things just made sense to me. Of course, did I mention my new found identity also meant showing some SERIOUS skin! Dudes - I totally went through a phase looking like the BIIGGESSSTTT slut in school!!! No like for real. 

The worst part is that I never even put out ... like ever. Not even like close to putting out, like at all. At least the slutty girls in school are popular because they're known for putting out - I was known for being the hot chick's side kick who may or may not be smart. 

Our relationship was tumultuous at best. She and I fought like cats and dogs. Her parents were on the brink of a divorce, and my parents took her in like a daughter. They had no choice, they weren't pleased with her influence on me, but they knew if they didn't allow me to see her I would only want to hang out with her more. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, kiddies! 

We would have very literally the WORRRSSTTT knock down, drag out fights - and then, somehow make friends again. Albeit, a month would go by, which for any teen with no good friends to begin with is a very. very. very. long time. 

It was definitely the best of times, and the worst of times. There I was, so happy to have finally found an "in" with someone in school, but at the same time my parents cringed wondering what happened to their daughter and if they were ever going to get her back. Fortunately, I never ... EVER ... let my grades slip, still maintaining honor roll throughout that year. I got on her about her grades, and offered to help her anyway I could. She was incredibly smart to begin with, but just not motivated and certainly didn't have the support from her parents that I did. As mad as my parents were at me for changing so much, they still got on my butt making sure I consistently did my homework. 

Alrite, I'm going to take a break here because this story gets very very very involved. Freshman year ends - and sophmore and junior year get even more unhealthy followed by me leaving junior year, due to finishing so early, and the shit truly hitting the fan. Dudes, I went to trial for this thing ... very very very intense story. But again, I'm not publishing this story like the others to air anyone's dirty laundry out. Not my style. And I ask that if you know the names of the parties involved not to comment or post them. If you do, I will be forced to delete it. It's not about them, it's about other people being able to relate and understanding that no matter what ... you can keep on keepin on. Wahoo! Stay tuned. It's gonna get gooooodddd!!! =) 

#nerdsunite

Click here to read the next chapter

#TrueStory: I once worked at a strip club

hahaha ... don't freak out mom and dad, it was one shift as a cocktail waitress ...but yeah, you guys might not want to read this one anyway. It might get weird. Well, let's be honest, isn't this already weird?? k. Love you - but bye. 

HIT IT TOMMY!!!

So, I've lived in LA for 7 years, and operated as a professional hustler for all seven of those years. Dude, we all work a bajillion jobs and just do whatever it takes to get the job done.

It was late 2007, early 2008 - I was working at LiveVideo as a lifecaster on their site, but their payroll sucked. Literally, one would think at that time working for the founder of Myspace and launching his start up would give you a certain bit of cred and a certain bit of ... something ... but oh no, even then, LV could not pay their bills. I don't care what happened exactly, that was neither here nor there - bottom line, I still had to pay rent - all $1200 of it.

To offset the paychecks that may or may not have arrived, I worked at a kosher restaurant in Beverly Hills. Was a great, great, great job - talk about learning the ins and outs of how to deal with people. There is nothing like dealing with orthodox Jewish men that will just straighten every hair on your head. Dude, in some sects I can't even shake men's hands upon introduction. Totally bat shit, but totally happened. I just respected all people, all around and just dealt with whatever was given to me.

Well, one day one of the servers came in saying that she just got this job and it was paying super well. I said, rad! Congrats! What and where? It's a strip club, she says. Okayyyyy .... my friend Staz is super hot, but straight up - a strip club? No thanks!!! Not my thing - dude, totes not mad at it, but no bueno. 

No, she says - as a cocktail waitress.

My interest peaked .... wait, how much are we talking here .... couple hundred a shift to serve sodas and flirt with the customers. DONE!!!!!!!!! Dude, a couple hundred a shift? I was LUUUCKKKYYY if I made a hundred a shift at the Milk and Honey. My rent was almost $1,200 a month. I did not give a flying fuck if it meant I had to serve sodas and bat my eyes, as long as I wasn't having sex for money, or taking my clothes off - I could deal.

I ask her if they're hiring any more servers, and she goes TOTALLY!!! Hit them up!!!!

I go home, google Foreplay Los Angles, and alas - it pops up on yelp!

I figure calling them is going to be lame ... I'm going to grab my resume, my biggest push up bra, and strut my shit. Dude, if I could work a few shifts at the Milk and Honey, while adding in even just one night a week at the strip club to make that much extra ... my life would be so bueno and I wouldn't have to freak out about paychecks coming or not.

I walk in at around 4pm in the afternoon - before the rush, and ask to speak to the owner. Mind you, I didn't just ASKKKK to speak to the owner, I pulled my best Marilyn and not only sashayed in the door, but flirted so hardcore with the door guy, and in my best breathless voice ..... ::insert breathless-ness:: excuse me, (insert tits in face, while playfully stroking my long black hair) are you guys hiring any servers?

The door guy repositions, while stuttering ... uh, why yes. Yes, we are.

I smile.

Great ... is there, uh, anyone here I can talk to?

Right this way.

BINNNNNGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

He walks me in, and takes me to this room on the left that was away from the actual club.

He opens the door, excuse me XXXXXXX this woman is wondering if we are hiring, and I think you need to see her. I was standing right outside, but I could hear his smile from 20 feet away .... well, send her in, he says.

I walk in and sit down with my legs crossed. Mind you, I am 5'7 but I am a very leggy human being. If I was going to take these ladies out to play, this was just going to happen ... and right now, this skirt was riding my bum so hardcore it wasn't even funny.

HI!!!!! My name is Jen I say with enthusiasm.

Hi ... my name is XXXXXXX. How can I help you? 

Well, I said, my friend Staz works here and speaks very highly of you all. I was wondering if you all had anymore shifts available.

He readjusts - well, what kind of ... shift are you looking for?

Cocktail waitress.

His eyes move down my body implying everything other than serving diet cokes .... um, have you ever considered ...

I interrupt. Oh, no thank you, but bless your heart. I knew where he was going, he knew I knew where he was going ... and that was not going to happen. I want the couple hundred bucks a shift for just a few hours, and I want to move on with my life. But yes, in this moment, I will bat my eyes at you til the cows come home. And PS. if you think I am going to bone you to get this job, I will make you so sorry you ....

You're hired, he says.

GREAT, I say with joy.

First though, you have to pass the test with the girls.

The girls?

Yes, the strippers. If they like you, then I will keep you. If they don't then I'm sorry.

He asks me to come back tomorrow to start training.

You won't regret this, I say.

Well, let's see what the girls think - he muttered. 

I get back to the apartment and don't even tell a single soul what I am doing. As is, my friends were ENTIRELY convinced that being a cam girl at an internet start up meant I did porn - this was going to set it over the top. big time.

The next afternoon, I go down to my car and notice my tire was slashed. No like literally ... my old building used to have crazy vandalism problems .... it was now apparently my turn to get fucked with.

FUUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! I don't know how to change a tire, and AAA will take an hour - I can't be late. I notice the car behind me was there, it belonged to a dude I was totally boning. (Bless his heart, btw. Super super super sweet guy, and like crazy retarded hot - but yeah, it was just a friends with benefits. I couldn't ever date someone that lived in my building.)

Do I want boy that I bone to know that I am starting to train as a cocktail waitress at a strip club? Is that weird? I feel like that's weird ... and awkward. I look back at the car ...

FUUUCCKKKKKKK!!!! Why now ... why now ... why now?

I grab my cell phone and give him a call.

Hey dude, it's Jen. Huge huge huge favor to ask you ...

Less than 5 minutes later he comes downstairs to the garage.

You. Are. My. Hero. I scream as I jump into his arms. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Not a problem, where am I taking you?

To the westside. I'm training as a server at this club.

Cool, which one?

Ugh. Do I tell him? Do I not? Wait, how can I not - he's about to drop me off there. Of COURSE he will know.

Well, it's a strip club - called 4play.

STFU!!!! You are going to be a stripper?

No ... COCKTAIL server. Of course it doesn't help that the word cock is in that sentence, but moving on ...

Wow. Okay - this is hot.

I laugh and explain that I needed an extra shift, and could use the money as checks from the internet company I was working for were spotty at best, and I didn't want to lose my apartment.

I get it. Just kinda funny, you have to see it from my perspective. Nice dress, btw.

Thank you - I was in a super slutty little black dress as was the attire for work.

He drops me off at the club, and then asks when I am going to be done.

Wait, you want to pick me up too?

OF COURSE! he says. I don't want to miss this story for the world.

HAHAHAAHAHA, jerk! Fine! I get done at 11.

Great - I'll see you right here then.

I take a deep breath, adjust my little bits of ladyness - and walk in the club.

I had been to strip clubs before, a whole bunch of 'em ... and this one wasn't bad. It was pretty big actually. There was an upstairs area, and all these back rooms. I had no idea how many servers were on each shift, but wow - at peak hours this place must be poppin.

I walk over to the bar - which btw, just served sodas .... clearly. And ask where my duderino was. She said, oh - are you here for server training?

Yep!

Ah. Okay, my name is XXXXXX I'm going to be training you.

Great! Nice to meet you.

The place at the time was entirely dead. There was a girl dancing on stage - but the only guy that was there was sitting at the bar and paid no attention. 

Dude, BOOBS!!! REALLY??? Okay ... okay ... 

She gave me a quick run down of things. That they don't serve alcohol, but they serve food.

She walked me around to each table and we started counting their numbers (every table at a restaurant is numbered so you know what goes where, and its entered in the computer). She then turned back to me and asked me to tell her all of the numbers she just said ... I immediately replied back like a parrot. She was pleased. 

We walk through the kitchen - and she explains to me where all of everything was kept. That place totally gave me the heeby jeebs. I've been in many many kitchens in my life, and working as a server dealing with the kitchen staff in general is a sexual thing ... such pervs ... but this one, there were so many microwaves, and tupperwear things. I don't know, I'm not calling anyone out - but that was NOT a kitchen. 

I shrug it off and think well, one less thing to worry about! 

We keep walking, and she shows me the back locker area where all of the girls prep for stage, and keep their things. It's your responsibility to clean all of the mirrors before each shift back here, she says. 

Not a problem! I grab some windex and a paper towel and go to town. 

Ohhhhh schmick mordy, those were a lot of mirrors. Walls of 'em. Wow. Just hustle, Jen. Just shut up and do it - I thought. 

20 minutes later I finish the locker area - and walk out to the bar. 

The trainer stops me and says, the stage too. 

I immediately tense up. Wait, the stage? You want me to go on the stage? I of course didn't say anything like that, what actually escaped my mouth was, sure! right away - as I turned back around and headed towards the stage. 

Oh good lord, this is happening. 

No one was there, I don't know why it bothered me so much - but I had just never ... EVER ... seen a strip club from this angle before. 

I started to windex the mirrors, and my eyes caught my reflection. Here I was at a strip club, on stage, lookin like a hussy in a little black dress. Really Jen ... Really? What are you doing with your life? This ... no bueno. I smacked my voice of reason and said, a couple hundred a shift. A couple hundred EACH shift. Keep going. 

I finish the mirrors on stage, and then the owner operated peanut gallery of a trainer piped up and said, oh sweetie the poles too! 

See, the girls wipe after themselves but someone has to eventually take actual disinfectant to the poles to make sure they're clean. 

OOOOOMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG this is happening. 

Dude, I felt so awkward on that stage. I did not own any minute of anything. I felt like in a situation like that I would have made the best of it, and cracked some jokes - nope. nada. I didn't like it ... at all. 

I finished wiping the poles down, and walked back over to the bar. Great job, she says! We've still got some time before the rush comes in. 

It was an incredibly relaxed atmosphere - I was allowed to sit down, flirt with guests (when there were ones there). A few more girls started to trinkle in. Introductions were had, but all I got from the girls were straight up daggers. They did NOT like me. I don't know if they thought I wanted to strip, or what - but I was terribly confused. Girl, I totally respect you for what you do, but no, it's not for me. Of course I couldn't say that - but I just reiterated how nice their boob jobs were, and I kept praying for puberty to hit one of those days, or I'd be calling them for their doctor's number. 

Self deprecation ... yes ... gets 'em everytime! 

They instead looked confused. I think I lost them at puberty. 

Anyway ... 

The night drew on, not a lot of people came in - but I LOOOVVEEEDDDD the music! Way better than listening to Sinatra as was all that ever played at the Milk and Honey. Ugh. Amazing. 

I really started to get into it at this point. I was loosening up a bit - and after a few orders being taken and dropped off without a hitch, I thought, hey! I can do this!!!! 

The trainer calls me over. She slaps a 20 down on the counter and says good night! 

Wait, what? 

You're great, but the girls don't like you and say you're taking away from their customer base. 

What does that mean? 

What do you think it means, sweetie? Here's your money. If you want to consider another profession, lemme know. But as a server, you're done. (Apparently a few too many of the girls had gone up to the customers and asked if they could give them a lap dance, and they instead asked how much for one from me? Very much a no no buenoooo.)

Wow - at this point I had never not gotten a job I wanted. And dude, I was JUSSTTT getting the hang of it. Realizing though that this was an arguement I was going to lose - I cut my losses, texted my friend, and about a half hour later got picked up. 

He pulls up. 

How'd it go? he asks

I'm not cut out for this industry apparently. 

Laughing, he goes, I could have told you that. Back to web cam porn? 

#FML

#TrueStory: I went out on a date with a guy that read my foot

Haha! Weird weird weird series of scenarios that I was going to wait to post on in the morning - but who am I kidding! Running a website is a 24/7 job, you think you can sleep? HA! succkkkkkkkaaaaaaaa

Alrite. Rewind back to Saturday night. Was getting my freaky freak on at the place where one can get their freaky freak on without having anyone care. Seriously, I spent the entire evening topless covered partially by a spirithood. I say this not to entice or titillate, just incredibly matter of fact that I made a conscious decision to further not give a fuck, and just have fun. Unapologetic awesomeness, ftw! Left my friends for a hot minute to use the restroom, was walking back to the dance floor - and this dude grabs me. It was this weird harmless type thing. I don't remember what he said to me, but it was along the lines of "I like your energy, I want to read your foot." Me, being me, and well, open for EVERY SINGLE EXPERIENCE I could possibly have in life, was totally fucking game and said, alrite!

We walked over behind the grotto, and he took my boot off and proceeded to tell me all about my present reality. It's reflexology and has some very very very fascinating qualities. I don't believe in the psychic shit, or things being pre-ordained based upon the stars; I am living proof that you MAKE YOUR OWN DESTINY! Go, do cool shit - just write about it, and let other people in on your story as much as possible. For reals, it's that simple. Oh noes, do I smell a tangent? Shut up Jen. So, we walked behind the grotto, and he proceeds to take off my boot and read my foot.

I am not easily surprised with anything in life. I sort of just take it all as it comes, and live life with no expectations. It was 1 am, I was at the playboy mansion - whatever was going to happen was going to happen. This dude was not about to get in my pants, especially since I was wearing a skirt - wasn't even IN pants, was just there to have fun, and let loose for a night. I kid you not, he freaked me out with the shit he picked up on. Think about it like this though, again, not in a psychic sense, but our feet carry ALL of our weight. You think anxieties, tension, or happiness wouldn't show in our feet? Life is cause and effect. When it comes to our body language, it is completely mirrored by the thoughts in our noggin. Women primp their hair when they like a boy, I personally figit with my hands like a MOOOFFOOOOOO when I'm nervous. We all do it, we can't help it! 99% of the time we are COMPLETELY unaware that we are even doing it. All this being said, he picked up on the most obscure, weird, ungoogle-able shit you could imagine. Needless to say, I gave him my number when he said he wanted to take me out on a date.

Flash forward to Tuesday (he waited the prerequisite 3 days - WHICH btw are super super super lame. no chick will care. Just call on Monday, it's cool.) he leaves me a message asking me out to dinner. I was allllllll up on it! This guy is a freaky deaky leaky, and mama likes that ... a lot.

I told him I was free on Thursday night, and alas! Here we are. Normally for me, I won't go out on a date with a dude unless I know a last name (so I can appropriately Facebook and google stalk them), or have an OKC profile to go off of. It's my comfort zone. I like knowing what I know about the web so I can find anything I want to know about someone. This whole romanticized notion of, oh yeah! let's just get to know someone is super fucking lame to me. Anything I want to know about you I can find out online - we all leave digital footprints. If for whatever god awful reason I cannot find that, that means you are hiding something. Very very very black and white, and horrible un-Disney. Mama likes!

We went to dinner, and he took me to this little Ethiopian restaurant in little Ethiopia which is just south of Olympic on Fairfax. And dude! He was FUCKING AWESOME! This guy was so rad! He just kept saying, you are so happy - he could just feel the love from my soul. It was the raddest compliment anyone has ever paid me. He doesn't read feet for a living, in fact, I can't even say what he does for a living since it's super fancy pants; BUUUTTT I can say he does incredibly well for himself and just bought a friggen house in an uber posh section of LA. Needless to say, palm reading in Venice isn't his thing. But OMG! at the end of the night, he totally read my feet again - and it BLLLEEWWWW MY MIND!!! He picked up on things I very very very privately browsed, and literally have never ever ever uttered online, let alone to even a single soul on this planet. And no, not porn - I have no problem telling people all the porn I look at. Sex is pretty black and white with me, this was like from the dark cave that I didn't even want to address that I had. Clearly of course we all do, but in my little land of LA-LA, this thingggggggg/person/scenario/whatever was in my past, and not at all a part of my present. He fucking picked up on it, and was like whhhaattt are you thinking girl? Why is this scenario still here? Dude, NO ONE KNOWS! He addressed my problems with intimacy, my UNBELIEVABLE passion for music (but from the creative perspective, not in the music industry), my ease at being able to resolve scenarios, and the fact that all of my lines were so interconnected. He freaked out at that actually. I was like yeah! I'm a lifecaster. My work is my art, is my life, is my heart, is my everything, and I'm stunned that someone can make a living having this much fun. He just kept saying over and over how passionate I am about life and philosophical, and that there are lines underneath the lines in my feet. Totally fucking blew my mind. And I kid you not, I've had my palm read two other times in my life - and NOOOO ONNNEEEE has come close to what this guy did for me.

I can very honestly say that in my last year and some change of just constantly meeting people, he is HANDS DOWN the most interesting person I have ever met.

I don't know what exactly he is- or what exactly it is that makes him tick, he's a fucking nut job that's for sure .. and I dig it. Where will it go from here? Who knows. We didn't kiss, just hugged - I don't really pick up that vibe from him. But I dunno. He invited me to dinner next week, so we shall see.

Got dropped off by that duderino, then went to meet up with some peeps over at Big Wangs and then Dillons. OMMMMGGGGGGG, I need to get laid again soon. I know, I know - you all got pretty peeved at all the posts the last time I was in need of some lovin - but seriously, I'm like a dude. I can't help it. I need to get laid to think. Haven't had sex since the Santa Barbara boy ... and that's itching on almost a month. That is no bueno. I only have a little bit longer before I start getting super cranky and super irritated. HAHA! Me and the girls tonight were totally creepin. It was hilarious. We kept doing laps looking for boys, and alas! nothing but epic failure. There were absolutely, no hot boys at the bar. The worst part is, I am so conditioned now to focus on compatibility that I had no idea what to even look for. Pretty boys don't do it for me; I dig quirky, I dig stories. I can't look at a boy and find that, hence the reason why I don't look for dudes at a bar - I'm an efficiency freak. Either way, it wasn't like I was going to pick up a dude at a bar and get some (not that theres anything wrong with that, but for me personally, I need more). But you do need a few lined up in some sort of cue. Like after x amount of hangouts, x amount of something ... it will eventually lead to you getting some. Which is rad, since I have a little bit of time left before I get cranky. UGH! End of night, no new boys in cue. I am so unbelievably sick of dating, you all have no idea. I always end up dating my guy friends. I can't STANNNDDD getting to know someone, I like starting things mid sentence after all of the polite conversation has been killed.

So there you go, that was my night. I am now retiring to this super sexy couch. For reals, you all make my life - so thanks for being in it. Like no seriously ... the foot dude even told me, I am a happy happy bitch, and it's all because of what you all have given me. For that, I thank you.

#peace