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<editorsnote> Hi, I'm Jen Friel, and we here at TNTML examine the lives of nerds outside of the basements and into the social media, and dating world.  We have over 75 peeps that write about their life in real time. (Real nerds, real time, real deal.) Sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the stories!! </editorsnote>



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#Fact: I woke up this morning in a chair listening to Meatloaf

Yeah. Totes not even kidding either. Hold the phone though, lemme just get all Juvenile and back that ass up first.

So, I'm still in Boston, and earlier in the week I hung out with these duderinos I went to high school with and was literally left like a motherfucking puppy dog by this guy I had a crush on in 9th grade world civ. I am a grown ass woman that went out on A HUNDRED AND THREE DATES IN NINE MONTHS - and this motherfucker left me like a god damn puppy dog.

Totally didn't expect that, was totally left speechless.

Like seriously, way to manage to get even hotter than I remember, ANNNNDDDD work a super smart super awesome sounding job that you're super passionate about. Never underestimate the power of passion when it comes to sex nerderinos, it is SUCH a panty dropper.

So, everyone had an awesome night, and the next morning I posted on my experience. The only problem with that is that people read this site. And when I say people, I mean like the dude that I went to high school with, and all 3 of his best friends that I also went to school with.

I got there last night, and it was AAAWWWKKKWWAAAARRRDDD. 4 dudes, 1 Friel & 1 very strong sure thing stamped on my forehead.

Me and the world civ crush start talking and I can immediately read on his face that he read my post, and his friends are being unbelievably weird about it. LA is the social media capital of everything, so everyone has a blog, twitter feed, etc and I dunno - people don't really care that you've posted on them, because they've prolly posted on you. It keeps everything relatively organic, and from the artistic and spiritual perspective I get to be the happiest camper on the planet living in a world of self expression.

However, this isn't LA - it's Boston ... and this website all of the sudden became this massive pink elephant.


So, we start talking, and fortunately after a lot of beer - I just eventually forgot about everything and got back to focusing on one thing ... living out my high school fantasy of fucking the brains out of my world civ crush.

<tangent> Which btw is normally totally not my thing. I have this thing with people I fantasize or idolize in certain capacities - I will not. will not. will not. meet them, or in sexual scenarios ever ever ever think about having sex with them IRL ... reality ruins everything. Like no, I'm very serious about this - I totally could have fucked the shit out of Gavin Rossdale in 2009, and I turned it down. Also too, obviously he's married to Gwen Stefani and has the most BEAUTIFUL children on the planet ... but I'm sure as with most rockers they have some sort of arrangement when he's on tour ... blah blah blah. So yeah, bottom line: I don't bone people I have masturbated to. Like ever. ever. ever. Call me more brazen in my older years, I'm not sure - but having sex with my world civ crush just had to happen. Like period end of sentence. </tangent>

We get to talking, and already being mildly embarrassed I lay every card on the table and basically ask, soooooo what's up.

He then looks at me with his big gorgeous brown eyes and utters the two words no girl ever wants to hear - "I can't."

I'm sorry, can't?

Yeah, because of XXX.

See, I took the virginity of his best friend who also happened to be there that evening, and who also happens to still be a good friend of mine. We were 17. We never officially dated, but I will always always always love that kid. We could not be more different and clearly not compatible, but if a chick ever breaks his heart - I will have zero problem throwing down and fucking a bitch up. He and Romeo are my dudes. I have a shit ton of guy friends, but these guys are like brothers - that's some next level shit.

So there was my high school past affecting my current reality.

That's fine dude, I kept saying - I'll own it. I totally understand, it's all guy code.

Then reality slowly started to creep in. I am now not only not "going home" with this dude, but it's 2am, I have NOOOOOO idea where I am, and the T stopped running hours ago.

Can I sleep on your couch? And I mean literally ... sleep. on. your. couch.

Sure, he said with a million dollar smile.

Fuck you hormones ... fuck you ... down ... GET BACK DOWN!!!

We then walked back to his place and talked about life and everything.

Congrats on everything you've done, he said, it's incredibly impressive. 

I look up and smile. Thank you, that really means a lot to me coming from you.

We get back to his place, and he shows me his room for a hot second. He hands me a picture of him and his brother as wee ones. OMMGGGG way to like kick my maternal instincts into overdrive. Really, showing a girl that has had a crush on you for 13 years baby pictures?? STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!!!

I then look away and notice this other picture towards the back and see a familiar face.

Wait, this is XXX - she's your sister???!!!

I start connecting the dots.

See, I had classes with this one chickie, let's call her Cathy, and she made my life in high school. I'm not quite sure what she "has" I know she is special needs, but let's just stop at the fact that Cathy is special. Whatever physical and mental limitations she may have are completely irrelevant. I used to help her with homework and socialize with her as much as possible. I utterly utterly utterly adored this chiquita banana. When she used to see me in the hallway she would start screaming JENNNNYYYYYY and followed it up with like the biggest hug on the planet. Never underestimate the power of a hug to a teenage loaner. She just made you feel like the most important person in the world, again Cathy is special. Very. Very. Very. Special.

I had no idea she was your sister, I say. 

Sure the last name was obviously the same - but it doesn't seem like that uncommon of a last name.

She's okay, and alive?

She's great! He said.

I swear to god, that was the greatest news I had received in recent memory.

I smiled and left his room. Good night, I say as I close the door.

I walk over to the couch, and see that it is occupied. I plop my lazy bones down on the chair next to the couch, plug in my phone (YESSSS!! For having a charger right next to the chair!! WHOOP WHOOP!), and fell asleep with a smile.

Did I have sex? No. But my world civ crush gave me the greatest news ever and I couldn't have been more of a happy camper.

I flipped open spotify, put on my chick flick playlist - and this morning, was awoken to the song I would do anything for love. Like literally ... Meatloaf serenaded me. It was pretty epic.


So there you go. No sex - which sucks because sex is the only time I shut my brain off. For reals, I love love love love love love love what I do professionally, but running a company doesn't provide an off button. I am always emailing, thinking of some new idea, or opportunities ... sex jolts me out of my brain and into my body. My inner animal might not have been appeased, but that's what a dildo is for - and fuck buddies in LA. T minus 7 days til I'm homeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

I'm editing today, but totes available if anyone wants to grab a beer tonight. Feel free to hit me up on twitter: @JenFriel. Head out to NY tomorrow. So. So. So. Fucking excited!!! 3 days of the biggest meetings in my life, where I sit as the little kid in Vans at the big kid in suits table explaining to all these TV networks and publishers my story. This is going to be fun.

PS. To my world civ crush, you know who you are, thank you very much for a rad time this week. Very sincerely, you are an amazing human being, and I am incredibly grateful that nothing has changed. Keep on being awesome. xoxoxoxoxxo

P.P.S. Took this picture waiting for the T this morning ...

And 2.5 seconds later this duderino started hitting on me. It was weird, who hits on a chick on a Saturday or Sunday morning? Albeit, I rock vans and not heels - hahaha but how do you know I'm not doing a walk of shame? UGGHHHH!!! Why couldn't I have been doing a walk of shaaaammmeeee!! ::smh:: 



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Reader Comments (1)

excellent read, thank you.

September 26, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterdimar

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