#Fact: Men are dogs
In terms of what's spreading in social, one might think 2016 has become the inspiration behind R.E.M.'s it's "the end of the world as we all know it."
It for sure hasn't been easy, but what if we shifted our focus from the world "out there" to what's going on right here in our own backyards.
Last Wednesday, I had drinks with our company's COO (which I am about to tell you guys ALL about), and gave an IRL rundown of my google calendar.
"You know you're a minnow swimming with sharks, right?"
"I'm not afraid," I admitted.
"You're fearless," he said, "but these people you are meeting with can eat you alive.
I continued, "That's why I'm meeting with them - one, to learn, and two, I've been in sink or swim situations my whole life and last time I've checked, I still have a pulse.
<tangent> When I was hired to work in cellular activations for a Verizon master agent over a decade ago, they openly admitted that I was brought into fail. The wife of the founder of the company had met me, and she laughed saying "this is great! I'm going to prove them wrong."
Obviously curious, I asked, "what do you mean?"
I've been told for years women can't sell cellular; I have a feeling you can.
The glowing endorsement from the "powers that be" only made it worse for my relationships with my two decade distanced peers.
The attitude was very much, "awww look at the pretty little girl ..."
Choosing to not give a toss about their opinions, I quickly realized what they saw as a "negative" actually worked in my favor.
I CONSISTENTLY won over business from competitors, because face it, who would dealers rather have visit their stores on a regular basis:
Or this ...
I not only left the company being top rep in the nation (out of hundreds of dealer reps), but I'm still dear friends with some of my previous clients to this day.
I knew I knew my shit, and instead of expelling hot air to hot heads, I just put my head down and did my job. </tangent>
I then told the COO about a comment my friend made a few weeks back.
We scheduled time to meet up (this whole "google calendar" thing I'm learning is super super important), and his colleagues were also in attendance. What started off as genuine casual conversation, I unintentionally turned into a product demo for our company.
"Your mind is a steel trap," he said mid-demo.
(I shot him a side glance, quietly smiling but continued the thought process. Coming from a gentleman of his position - it was a true compliment.)
The COO laughed, saying "you know what you're doing. No one could ever doubt that."
Thank you, I said sincerely.
The next night, I met up with the Modern Day Shaman.
"You're night and day from the person I met from Talk Nerdy."
Really? I asked? "That's an enormous compliment coming from you."
I'm serious, he said. "I couldn't have been friends with that Jen. This Jen? Is one of my favorite people on the planet."
I don't know, I said. I've just never felt more confident or alive.
It shows, he said. Before you were Jen Friel scared of her own skin, but doing weird shit because that's just who you are. Now, it's like you pound on the ground and say "I'm Jen Fucking Friel." You've got it, and are already going places.
I laughed hugging him admitting that if I ever do get married, you are the absolutely only person allowed to officiate the ceremony. (I even told it to my parents the last time they asked about my dating life.)
I could see tears start to form in his eyes, as he said, "that's the greatest compliment I've received."
It's well deserved, I said. Thanks for your years of help; it's never gone unnoticed.
By the time I got home, I noticed a pop up from Instagram that I had been tagged in a photo ...
There's a lifetime between that and this ...
Then on Friday, I had a meeting over at the Soho house in the afternoon, and dipped back to my neck of the woods before heading back out for a dinner and drinks into the late night.
I showered and grabbed Buster for his long walk of the day, and en route, I heard an out of place, high pitched bark. I looked around and saw only a patch of shrubbery, and a line of cars. The dog was either deep in the bushes, or in a vehicle - and either way it definitely needed help. (There was no one else around.)
Fuck, I thought, I have to do something.
Fortunately, I happened to be down the street from my girlfriend's house (and THANKFULLY) she happened to be home.
I need you to watch Buster, I said. Can you grab a leash, collar, treats, water and a dish (she owns a dog as well), and help me?
Absolutely, she said running out of the house and down the street.
I then took off Buster's collar (which adjusted smaller than the one she had), and I climbed into the bushes (thinking it made sense to check there first).
Somewhere waist deep, I looked down and noticed an emaciated, scared little thing that kinda looked like a dog.
It's okay, I said, inching closer dropping a treat.
Instinctively, I could tell this dog wasn't aggressive, but I still needed to be as cautious incase s/he had ticks, fleas, or worse rabies.
After about an hour, I was able to get the collar around its very small neck, and onto the leash guiding it out of the bushes.
It immediately drank water, as other neighbors started to join bringing food and love.
What are you going to do with him or her? asked my girlfriend.
Well, I said, I have extra beds, bowls, and food - so that's set. Vets and shelters are closed for the day, I said looking down at my watch. I can keep him or her in my bathroom (with tile), and in the morning I'll head out to try and see if it's chipped and has an owner. In the meantime, I'll put up a post in social media, and see if I can find it that way.
By the time everything was said and done, I had to cancel my dinner, but at least I had a super cute visual to accompany the regret:
I then got el puparino settled inside my place with a big bed, blanket, food, and water. Because I didn't know the condition of its health, I had to protect Buster by keeping it in the bathroom. I finished getting ready hoping I could make my next event, but also cautiously listening to both how the dog was doing, and how Buster was reacting.
Shockingly, the pup passed out, and Buster his response was ...
Everything was chill, so I had to continue with my life, as yes - it's wonderful helping someone, but you can't forget your own bottom line in the process.
I texted en route realizing I would be a few minutes late.
I arrived at the Den (on Sunset) shortly after, and we grabbed drinks shooting the shit.
<tangent> I met my new friend at the Marijuana Don party the weekend before. (We're both mutual friends with my buddy Greg.) Since he also works in digital (for a kinda small social network that is kinda doing well - 1.5 billion users and climbing), I wanted to know his perspective of the hilarious shit show we both encountered. </tangent>
He was the one asking the majority of questions, as I responded with random story after random story.
"It's almost so hard to believe, he said, but it's shocking because you can see your face and (obviously read the posts) knowing that it's all true."
"I grew up online - we were the first generation of pics or it didn't happen. I just got lucky that by living out of a car I had everything I needed to tell whatever story I was experiencing at all times."
He smiled, and changed the conversation.
"I'm obsessed with the gif keyboard."
My response was swift ...
"You know what one of my favorites is?"
Show me, I said, as he grabbed his phone.
He then realized that both of our phones were put away up until this point and said,
"I love how this is the only time that two heavily involved digital people have actually touched their phone."
"When I'm with someone, I'm with someone. I don't have to wonder what everyone else is doing."
He pulled up this gif ...
Without skipping a beat, I said, "that's the Schmitts Gay Adam Sandler, Farley skit."
I watched SNL religiously growing up, and that and GAP girls were two favorites ...
You're good, he said.
We then closed out our tabs, and decided to head to one more location.
"You're into 'dives,' but I prefer the Sunset Tower."
(I laughed thinking, if he thinks "The Den" is a dive, he DEFINITELY won't enjoy where I normally hang out.)
Done, I said, I've never been.
Can we walk there? I asked.
He pulled up Uber, and questioned the distance.
I looked down and it literally said it was a five minute walk.
Come on, I said laughing. I forgot it was that close.
As we walked down the Sunset Strip, he continued asking questions about the dog.
So, you're going to sell it?
The dog? I asked surprised.
Yeah, he said.
Oh hell no, I said. I'm going to try and find it's owner, and if it doesn't have a home - it will soon thanks to social media. I'm still getting buzzed with text messages of people asking if they can help. She'll be fine, I just want to make sure I'm doing the right thing first and not giving someone's dog away.
"You're so business savvy," he said insinuating that I should just sell it.
It's not about money, I said. It's about in this moment doing the right thing. At 31, if I told my parents I sold a dog, they'd STILL fly out and kick my ass.
My father instilled in us growing up that the only person we need to face in the morning is the one in the mirror.
It really stuck with me as an adult that I truly do these things with or without people watching, just so I can feel comfortable with my own reflection. I know if I'm doing the "right" thing or not.
I've never been in a position like that before, he admitted.
You'd be surprised, if you open your eyes, there's plenty going on in your own backyard. We just don't always pay attention, frankly because it takes time to help others. Trust me, I did not expect nor necessarily want to miss my dinner and now spend I don't even know how long taking care of the little pup- but it's just what you do.
That should be your new instagram bio, he said.
I laughed thinking, I actually have my new instagram bio - and in jussssttttt a little bit, I'm going to change it.
We arrived at the Sunset Tower minutes later (literally), and sat down in the lounge.
I laughed thinking this isn’t my scene, but the people watching will surely be fun.
I proceeded to excuse myself to the restroom, and as I emerged from the stall I spotted a familiar face.
I absolutely could not remember her name, but without googling I knew she was the “blonde Ralph Lauren model that dated John Mellencamp.”
I got back to the table and explained that I was in the restroom with the “blonde Ralph Lauren model that dated John Mellencamp.”
How do you know that? he said so incredibly confused.
Photographic memory, I admitted. That’s why my writing is always so detailed because I can physically go back to those places and remember what I saw and did - even years later. Also, my brain is IMDB for pop culture - you should see our trivia nights.
Presenting the exact google search that populates her name:
<tangent> Also at the Marijuana Don party, I walked right up to this guy shaking his hand saying, “my name is Jen Friel, I cannot remember your name but know we’ve met.”
Jen Friel …. he said thinking, Jen Friel ...
It then hit me where I’ve seen him.
TINDER, I said. You’re one of my tinder matches!
Holy shit, he said sinking it in. “I changed my profile photo because of your feedback. Wow! I can’t believe you recognized me.”
Photographic memory, I said. I genuinely can’t help it.
I have (at the time of posting) 2722 tinder matches; I am not going to test how many more I remember.
Oh shit, I said spotting YET ANOTHER familiar face.
That’s Brigitte Neilson.
I put on my Troy McClure voice of "you may remember Brigitte from Red Sonja, her marriage to Sylvester Stallone, and most recently the Surreal Life and her equally surreal relationship with Flavor Flav."
Wow, he said.
I have a special place in my heart for the random and obscure celeb spottings. I take pride in remembering that they were in an ABC after school special on not playing hide and go-seek in a refrigerator.
<tangent> Side note, Cherie and I are friends on twitter and in case you were wondering - there is life after the fridge.
I love it he said smiling as he reached down seeing a text from a friend saying that Kanye was having a private show over at No Name Bar on Fairfax.
We can go, he said, but I don’t know anyone at No Name.
"Do you really want to go to No Name?"I asked.
Was there last weekend - I can totally get us in.
"You’re the queen of social capital, he said. You know people everywhere."
Yeah, but I don’t take that for granted. I also truly enjoy helping and taking care of people without the return, but in cases like this - it comes in handy.
We then closed out our tabs as I headed home to check on the pups.
I walked them each independently, and somewhere way past the point of exhaustion hit the hay.
At 9am, I shot out of bed like a bullet wanting to get this pup home. Something intuitively told me on the walk the night before that it had a home, but it didn’t know where exactly said home was.
Based on how well groomed this dog was, this certainly wasn’t a case of it growing up on the street- the teeth and nails were spotless.
I pulled into the nearest vet, as the texts were still pouring in from my friends wanting to know how the dog was doing, and if it needed a home.
I then went inside explaining the situation as the vet tech scanned the dog’s ear. She walked over to the computer and said, yes! She has a home, and her name is Fefe.
I KNEW IT, I said SUUPPPPERRR excited to reunite a family.
She printed out the phone number and address, and I was surprised how much information they give you. Don’t get me wrong it’s great, but I half expected them to just call on the dog’s behalf, and tell me to come back if they weren’t able to be reached. I genuinely had no idea they just hand it over.
My hands were shaking with excitement as I didn’t even wait to get back to the car to call - they needed to know immediately that their dog was safe. (I can’t even imagine Buster going missing, but five minutes less of freaking out would TOTALLY be worth it to me.)
Hi, I said, my name is Jen and you don’t know me, but I found your dog Fefe.
The phone then disconnected, as I stood in the parking lot shocked.
Did she hang up on me, for reals? Let me try again - there’s no way.
I call back, and this time it goes to voicemail.
Motherfucker, I thought. I looked two lines down and saw an address in Beverly Hills.
Without thought, I knew our next move ...
We arrive Fefe’s McMansion 45 minutes later, as I questioned what the next action should be.
The last time I knocked on a stranger’s door I followed it up with “trick or treat.”
This is really fucking weird doing it with a dog on a Saturday morning.
Fuck it Friel, for the love of Fefe - just do it.
I placed the pup under my arm as I walked up the long driveway and rang the doorbell.
A mother and a 17/18 year old looking daughter answered the door … and as they glanced down their jaws dropped in unison.
In my heart, I wondered if maybe one partner wanted the dog, and another didn’t so they just tried “getting rid of it.”
Whatever the circumstances, I had to know with 100% certainty that it wasn’t a good fit for the dog before placing it in a new home.
“I found your dog,” I said stern and cold - “you just hung up on me.”
Her accent was thick (I couldn’t place it), and she said:
"Uh, uh, I gave her … man …"
She was stumbling over her words as I could very clearly tell she was lying - she was 100% the one who abandoned Fefe.
Listen, I said cutting her off (now VISIBLY pissed), I don’t care what happened - I just need to know with certainty that this dog isn’t wanted here. Thanks to social media ::cough cough:: "your dog" ::cough cough:: has a line OUT THE DOOR of people wanting to adopt it.
People that will ACTUALLY give it a good home.
"No," they both said indicating they didn’t want "it."
I stared intensely for a moment at their facial expressions and didn’t see an ounce of regret or shame for their actions.
I didn’t even say goodbye- I abruptly turned around feeling my nostrils flare. I knew the longer I stayed the less calm I would be, so better to just go.
I got in the car and closed the door placing Fefe back on my lap. I couldn’t even BELIEVE something like this is possible. WHO ABANDONS THEIR DOG?!?!!? WHO THEN GETS IT BACK AND SAYS TO ITS FACE THAT IT ISN’T WANTED?!?!
For the first time since finding her, I heard Fefe start to cry. It was this soft little whimper, and I don’t care what people say about animals, IN.THAT.MOMENT. that dog thought it was going home and KNEW had just gotten rejected TO.ITS.FACE.
I turn up the radio hoping to calm her down, and as I changed the channel before pulling away, I heard Kanye’s “heartless” playing.
HOW COULD THEY BE SO HEARTLESS, I asked Fefe still crying.
I then made Fefe a promise that today was going to be the BEST.DAY.OF.HER.LIFE. and those people were in her rear view mirror.
While still stopped, I pulled up a bunch of vets in the area explaining the situation and asking if there was any possibility of getting her checked out to make sure she was safe to be around my dog.
It took a solid half hour of calling before I FINALLY found one that had an available appointment.
I didn’t even care to make an appointment, I’ll just come now, I said happy to know she was on the mend.
I arrived at the vet and reiterated how shocked I was at the entire morning.
No one could believe it. How could anyone be so heartless?!
I KNOW, I said, and that song came on the radio RIGHT after they rejected her. AND WHO NAMES THEIR DOG FEFE!! That’s the real cruelty.
$122 for the exam, she said.
Ouch, I thought. Good deeds are not cheap (only dirty ones according to ACDC). Realizing I was going to have to do whatever I had to do to make sure this girl was okay, I decided to suck it up.
Unless you can wait a few more hours and I can squeeze you in at 5. It’ll only be $70 since you’re not a true “walk in” and it’s not an emergency.
Not a problem, I said. I’ve snuggled with her so much at this point, I didn’t care if I had fleas or ticks. Heck, if I can survive a cockroach infestation, I could survive this. All that I knew was that this little pup needed lots of love, and that was exactly what she was going to get.
I then took her home (still keeping Buster away, just incase), and gave her a bath. There wasn’t a lot of dirt in the water so she couldn’t have been on the streets for more than a few days.
Her little face smiled so lovingly as she got rub a dub dubbed.
I grabbed an extra blanket, and wrapped it around her making sure she wasn’t too cold. (Due to her obvious weight loss, I didn’t want to take any chances.)
I walked over to the couch and passed out with her on my chest. I was utterly exhausted from my own work week, let alone now dealing with this.
Feefers slept for a few hours, and shockingly Buster was super cool with everything. He might not have understood where the hell this little thing came from, but he DEFINITELY knew it needed help.
I have the coolest dog on the planet, I thought smiling.
After an attempted-napping, I got up and took the pup shopping.
I had wanted to get it a little something before heading to it’s new home the next day, and if this was going to be the best day of her life - I was ABSOLUTELY going to do as many fun things as I could.
I purposefully kept her away from other animals and people once we arrived in West Hollywood.
After bathing her, I didn’t see any evidence of fleas or ticks, but again you never know.
We walked all up and down Santa Monica Blvd for about an hour, and then popped in some of the doggy stores by Santa Monica and La Cienega.
She loved smelling, well everything, and did really well on a leash.
OMG, I said looking over at the doggy clothing (which I am typically not a huge fan of).
I saw this ridiculous looking pink frilly tutu thing.
THAT, I said laughing. Fefe, you’re getting a new dress to meet your new family.
So she did, and arrived at her vet appointment as Fefe the fashionista!
Her check up didn’t take long at all as the vet said she was perfectly fine and healthy.
Gold stars, I said excited.
I thanked the doctor and drove her back to my house. Buster was less enthused to see her walk in the door again, even giving me side eye for having her look so ridiculous.
Not wanting to leave Buster out of the excitement, I also made sure to purchase him a new collar. Fefe might have needed help, but Buster is top dog in my world.
I then settled everyone in, as I looked down and saw that the person I wanted to see hadn’t texted me back.
<tangent> Since January I had been dating this guy, and a month ago, I gave him an ultimatum. It wasn’t a preferred method of operation, but I told him how I felt.
The night before, we went to his best friend’s birthday party and I arrived before him (coming from a previous party). As introductions were made, I kept getting asked if I was “so and so’s Jen.” I genuinely didn’t know what to say - were we friends? I felt really awkward since we hadn’t had the DTR conversation yet (mostly because I knew the answer and wanted to lie to myself). Despite all of that, I actually had a really great evening but was in a quieter mode after having to be “on” for work so much.
He texted the next day asking why I was so quiet. Not wanting to beat around the bush anymore (pun intended), I told him how I felt:
On the phone, he voiced the opposite view.
To quote the great Lionel, it was not me he was looking for ...
I stood my ground and explained as best as I could my side of the table, and then kindly asked for space as it would take time to get over him.
My friends all knew how much I liked him, so they were all taken aback to hear that he didn’t want a relationship.
I’m smarter than to know to give a guy an ultimatum, but it’s how I felt and I’d rather be that person than someone who half asses things and doesn’t say how they feel. I wasn’t even the one wanting to be in a relationship when we met!!
“You should be really proud of yourself for saying how you felt,” said my girlfriend. “That’s huge.”
I laughed saying, “when have you ever met someone on their deathbed who said, ‘I wish I had loved less.’”
We can’t help how we feel, you just have to keep your side of the street clean and give as much of your heart as you can - even if it’s unrequited. I don’t want to love expecting to get something in return; I want to love because it feels fucking awesome, and that’s reward enough.
That week when I saw our COO for our meeting, he was also shocked, and said “you have all these dudes chasing you - maybe it’s good he said no. It means you’re going to have to work for it.”
I thought about what he said, but also felt that it would come off as desperate.
"Fuck your ego, he said. You REALLY liked this guy. Don’t let him go."
I took a few days to think of my strategy, and then had a stroke of genius.
I’ll send him memes. Random fucking memes. Who can get mad at memes?
So, I did.
We conversed (in actual text and memes) for how ever many days, and then Saturday I sent this:
The response was Spanish for nothing.
I had previously messaged asking what he was up to, also with no response (until he sent another meme). </tangent>
I have to let this go, I thought. One thing I have learned in my old age is that you never focus on a man’s words (or memes in this case), you focus on his action.
As stubborn as I am viewing ‘no’ as a starting off point, I truly knew in this moment I had to let him go.
I smiled as I cried.
The next afternoon, I drove Fefe to her new home.
I wasn’t going to give el puparino to just "anyone.” I was lucky that so many people had reached out, but I truly in my heart had to know that it was going to the right home. My gf not only works from home, but has a HUGE yard (10,000 sq ft lot) and a little girl that would learn responsibility via taking care of it. Such a no brainer that it needed to go to her.
I wasn’t sure if she had food, dishes, etc, so I made sure to bring extra.
She laughed seeing Fefe for the first time as she strolled into the house.
I LOVE the outfit, she said.
We went shopping yesterday, and she wanted to put on her Sunday best to meet her new family.
“I love how casually you say, ‘we went shopping’ while referencing a dog.”
I explained I didn’t want to get her a collar or leash, as that was a personal choice - but brought the basics.
"Oh it’s okay, she said pointing to the laundry room pulling out a massive Petco bag, I got her a ton of stuff already."
I laughed thinking, yep, best home ever.
We played for a few hours, before I said that I had to head out to meet up with Scott Page (who was having a "jam session" over in Brentwood).
I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE I AM BECOMING FRIENDS WITH A MEMBER OF TOTO ALL BECAUSE OF COREY FELDMAN. SINCERELY ONE OF THE COOLEST THINGS TO HAPPEN IN RECENT MEMORY & I’m obsessed with this google image. I mean so much win!!
I placed Fefe in the hallway, as I snuck out the front door. Knowing how attached she was, I knew I couldn’t say good bye. Considering how many adjustments she's had to make in the last however long, I didn't need to freak her out more.
I smiled as I started to cry.
It was such an incredible 36 hours getting to love that little thing.
As I closed the car door, it struck me how similar the emotional cycle of animal rescuing is to dating:
- You're minding your own business
- You totally get caught off guard by this new being in your life
- You enjoy getting to know one another
- You love them with all your heart
- You follow your heart
- You cry when its over (mostly because you're not a sociopath)
- You smile knowing it happened, and you've made the right decision
Everyone was shocked when I said that I wasn’t keeping Fefe, and I had to explain over and over that it was never about that. I did the right thing, and loved when it was time to love. That’s it, and it really is that simple - why do we need to attach ourselves to expectations of how everything “should be.” Isn’t the experience of it all enough?
When I got home I grabbed an uber to head over to Brentwood. I met up with Scott outside of this ridiculous mansion.
"So, this friend of mine turned his home into an actual theater."
Jesus, I said looking over at the stage and leather reclining stadium seating.
I stood back as everyone approached Scott saying how much they enjoyed xyz abc album. The man has been featured on a few, but he’s just SUCH a good person.
I’ve met so few people in life that TRULY emulate joy, and he is one of them.
We then went out back, and sat at a folding table and chairs while the pot got passed.
After introductions were made, I quietly listened to the conversations.
One gentleman worked in augmented reality and produced these stylish glasses that actually provide real time information on whats going on around you. Kinda like what google glass should have been (from the sounds of it). Another gentleman was working on a software that created a centralized language for APIs … clearly none of these people were intelligent or passionate.
Scott moderated the conversation while I continued to listen.
The quieter that you are, the more you can learn about other people. Pay attention to how they talk, what they are saying, how controlling they are of the conversation - it takes me minutes, if that, to figure most people out (most not all obviously).
Also, because most people assume I’m an idiot, they will rarely ask me questions (particularly if I’m with someone of the opposite sex). If I’m alone, they’ll ask what you do (because that’s an LA standard), but I’m still in control of what I want to reveal (which typically isn’t much).
I must have asked too many questions regarding the technical components of his company, because the gentleman then pressed wanting to know who I was.
Scott laughed saying, oh you have to hear her story.
I then gave my elevator pitch, which I now have down to a science.
There’s no way that’s true, he said.
Give me your phone, I said not fucking around. I pulled up safari, quickly typed in a keyword, and handed him back his phone.
Holy shit, he said. This is true!
Everything was documented, I admitted. Walked away from everything I built and it shockingly sold; it’s been a weird year.
Other people began joining us, as Scott said he was really impressed with the way that I think.
It’s perspective, I said. I found perspective through all of these random adventures - its kinda hard not to.
“Look at this plant,” I said.
I pointed to a greenish yellow tree of some kind.
I can say this is green, you can say this is yellow - who is right and who is wrong? I pointed to his glasses, you see through those one way, and I will see them through another. We’re all so hung up on needing to be right that we don’t care to realize that NONE OF IT ACTUALLY MATTERS!!! Green can be green, and yellow can be yellow!! It just is!!!
<tangent> I wondered this as a kid actually. In 6th grade, there was student named Merick (sp?) who had down syndrome. We had the same lunch period, and most days he would have someone helping him through the hot lunch line, but on a day he didn’t I walked him through. I would ask him how his day was going, and his WHOLE BODY AND SPIRIT shined as he would comment on something wonderful he had experienced. If I had asked myself, or my friends that same question they would have picked something that pissed them off, or made them angry.
One day after school I asked my mom this question:
“How do we know the ‘disabled’ are actually the ‘disabled’ ones? Whose to say we’re not ‘disabled’ ones?”
She didn’t know what to say, and I can’t blame her. I still haven’t figured that one out.
"What do you do now with all of the awareness," he asked?
Nothing, I said, awareness is an onion. It’s constantly unfolding and if I’m focused on calling myself “aware” I'll become one of those people who should TRULY practice what they preach.
I’m still very much learning, but have absolutely no idea what is next. Every day something or someone surprises me - I’m only along for the adventure, and my heart is the compass.
Shaking off the frou frou fluffy talk, we then went inside to watch Scott and his friends “jam” (as he puts it).
I truly love watching people “in their element."
While I could have stayed there all night watching him fulfill his passion, I was also realistic that it was past my bedtime, and because the house was in the hills of Brentwood, if I wanted to get an uber sans surge - I had better leave now.
I snuck out the back while he was still on stage, and thanked him via text en route home.
When I got home, I hugged Buster and began writing this post.
As I typed the sentence "You know you're a minnow swimming with sharks, right?"
I laughed wondering how to articulate what it feels like being a “Shark In Training,” or “Shark To Be,” or the most logical “Baby Shark.”
I then pulled up google typing in "what a baby shark is actually called."
I kissed Buster on his forehead as I whispered, “I’m with my people."
Oh, and Fefe is now Phoebe and a happy little clam in Pasadena.
Not that that was ever in question ...
(Thanks for the read. This was a very very special post to write. xoxo)