#Question: Does this mean I’m a grown up now?

Miami and foam blizzards aren’t necessarily something you would tie together, but last night courtesy of some Dawn, and dye - that just happened.

Exercise is awesome. 

I always think of that line from Legally Blonde ... 

If you spend the majority of your day behind a screen (like I do), or in any creative ... anything - I highly suggest getting out of your head and into your body. 

I am a runner, and spinner (sans any sexual references. I’m 5′7 and nowhere near short enough to qualify as one). 

I do it more for the brain boost, but acquiring a slamma jamma body from it is never a bad thing. 


I haven’t worked out in a month due to being out of a “routine” - and frankly (not Shirley) out of my mind. 

Yesterday, I took a Flywheel class - hashtag new obsession & ran a 5K in foam. 

A guy I’ve been "talking to” (code for been out on three? dates) randomly saw an ad for the Foam Glow 5K , and sent me a text about it knowing I love to run. Being the “joiner” that I am - I signed up before asking if he was interested. (Not to be rude but I would have done it solo for the challenge).

Running lets me zone out. Whilst in said zone yesterday, I thought about life, being 30, and finally having a 5 year plan. 

(At the very top of my list is making my first million.)


I met with a VC (venture capitalist - a different one than my previous post) a week and some change ago, and he expressed that he thought I needed to be more grounded. 

I agree wholeheartedly, I said. What would you do if you were me? I have opportunities in LA, Texas, and Miami. I like my little island, but I’d be an idiot to not capitalize on as much as I can while I have the opportunity to. Frankly, I don’t know how many more I am going to get. (You’re pretty much considered ancient in tech in your 30s.)

You do realize that’s not always attractive to men, right? he said (bluntly stating that my focus should be more on babies and less on business).

I know, and for the first time in my life, the validation completely disinterests me, I said sternly.

Face it, all Talk Nerdy To Me, Lover was, was a desperate cry for attention. If I had just gotten a hug and a warm cookie, my adventures would have been cut so short. 

I have the attention I wanted, but now I’m ready to do something about it, and make a lot of money; I have an entirely different approach and perspective now, I explained to him. 

Well, the first question you have to ask yourself is, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” You have a 3 in front of your age now. It’s a lot different than talking to a 20 year old. 

Realizing I couldn’t answer, “I want to be a Toys-r-us kid!” I thanked him for his time, and pulled a Miley in my car. 


How do I figure out what I want to be when I grow up when I have no idea if I’m even grown up yet? My whole career/ life is a collective of happenstance being leveraged. 

My (tool of a) former manager actually used to pitch that to people. “Drop her anywhere in the country, and she can figure out where to go, what to do, etc. She doesn’t even try, it’s just her!” 

I’m really good at being in the “right place at the right time” (90% of the time) without even knowing it. 

When your constant is a blurred line of reality, how can I tell if I’m delusional, or just onto something others can’t see yet?

I studied at Groundlings (amazingly awesome improv school), and one of the things they train you on is when it comes to improv, you never disagree - everything is “yes and …” You have to answer the who, what, where, and when (for the audience), but you quite literally go with whatever is given to you and then add value by answering one of the questions.

I live life with that mentality. Everything that is given to me - I go with. Is that passive or genius? 

UGH! I thought controlling my breath and keeping pace. I need to be more proactive (sans the Biebs) ... 


27 minutes, and one new running partner later, we finished the race and grabbed a beer while playing in foam. (Not always the best combo.) 

Actual photo ... 


We were pummeled for a few hours, emerging SOAKING wet with dye all over our bodies. (This was a shockingly romantic thing.) The dye at these foam parties obviously sticks to your dead skin. I inadvertently became a walking, talking highlighter for the fact that I do not exfoliate.  Duly noted, and get it together, Friel. 

We laughed, and grabbed an Uber back. 

Bee tee dubs, guys are way more into a chick in a wet t-shirt than they are your skin care regime. 

This means I met his dog, and he met my cat.