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.
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.
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.
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.
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!!)
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?
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.
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