The Sonia Show

Writer. Podcaster. Beer drinker. Movie watcher. Mother. Goober.


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My fancy new title

Yeah, so, your girl got promoted!

You’re looking at a Content Design Manager. I know … I’m so fancy.

I’m so proud of the work I do. I thought a lot about whether to move into a manager role. With everything that’s been going on in my life, I debated staying on the individual contributor track. It’s nice to only be responsible for yourself, to only have to think about what you’re working on.

I always find a reason to hold myself back. For more than 10 years I stayed at a job that wasn’t fulfilling emotionally or financially. I stayed because it was easy and flexible. I had some good reasons for staying. I was dealing with two cancer diagnoses in 5 years. I had Calvin, and then Calvin was diagnosed as autistic. I focused my attention on his appointments and getting him services like speech therapy and occupational therapy. And after that was all set up, I just stayed because looking for a new job was hard. And, truthfully, I was more focused on my then-husband. I wanted to support him and help him grow in his career. He made a little bit more money than me, and it would benefit the entire family if he did well.

So, yeah, like a lot of women I undervalued my contribution and underestimated what I could do. But I finally got to the point where I wanted more. I wanted a job I actually cared about. I wanted to feel good about going to work.

At my old gig, Nina introduced me to content strategy, which led me to a content design job at Zendesk. Chelsea took a chance on someone who didn’t have a ton of content design experience but is super passionate about using plain, human language in interactions.

And now Nina works at Zendesk, too! I’m super grateful to Nina and Chelsea. They’re amazing managers, and I’ve been so inspired by them. They’ve created a supportive, connected team across timezones.

I thought long and hard about making this move. Is it what I really wanted? Would I be any good at it? And I kept coming back to this: We need more leaders that lead with their hearts and empathy. I always do that. It comes to me naturally. I instinctively want to help people. I want to build relationships and clear the path for people to do good work.

I know I have a lot to learn, but I’m up to the challenge.


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Save the date

Yeah, so, this is an actual conversation I had …

Them: Are you seeing anyone?

Me: Yeah, I see a therapist every other week.

Them: Umm, I meant are you dating anyone?

Me: Bahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahah *deep breath* bhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah. No.

I’m surprised how often I’m asked if I’m dating, on dating apps, or thinking about getting back out there. I did sign up for a dating app for a hot minute. One night Drinky Sonia thought, “I wonder what’s out there?” And I saw a lot of “Ew no,” and I saw some perfectly nice-seeming men. But it was a no for me, dawg.

I deactivated those apps in record time, because I don’t want it. At least not now. Maybe not ever. I honestly don’t know.

The truth is the bar for a man in my life is really fuckin’ high now because they have to compete with me.

I love spending time with me. We have the same sense of humor. We’re always laughing out loud. We love all the same things. We love to try new beer and cocktails. We love try new vegan recipes. We love to watch and listen to all the same things. We’re honest with ourselves and deal with our shit.

I’m a great partner to myself, and it’s delightful.

I don’t know if there’s a man out there that can compete with that. BUT, I’ll never say never. I could meet someone, and we vibe, and it’s on.

But until then I’m not going to be sad and single. I’m all about being happy and single.

Me and the only man I’ll ever need at
Laughing Monk Brewery during SF Beer Week

This week’s adventures in podcasting …

We’re chatting about one of my favorite comedies of all time: “Ghostbusters.” We still love it. I know, listen to Dorking Out for such surprising hot takes.

Over at What a Creep, we’re talking about Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas and his creepy wife Ginni Thomas. We also have an episode about the Zoot Suit Riots – the event, not the song by the creepily named Cherry Poppin’ Daddies. Seriously, that’s a gross name. Can you imagine naming your band Virgin Takin’ Fathers? Ewwwwwuh.


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Beer and now

Yeah, so, it’s the most wonderful time of the year — it’s SF Beer Week in the Bay Area.

I’ve been making a few stops at breweries here and there to taste the new stuff. I went to Harmonic Brewing, Standard Deviant, and Zeigeist, which was pouring the coveted Pliny the Younger and they had a ton o’ HenHouse Brewing. I’ll hit Barebottle and Laughing Monk at some point this weekend.

My favorite so far has been the rosé saison from Standard Deviant. In fact, I probably should go pick up another 4-pack.

Standard Deviant’s Rosé Saison, and a rum horchata cream ale

I also ventured to my happy place last weekend. I went to the Alamo Drafthouse on Super Bowl Sunday. I figured the theater would be pretty empty, and I was right. My good buddy Beegs met up with me to watch “Jackass Forever.”

Yeah, you read that right: “Jackass Forever.” And just like all the other “Jackass” movies I screamed and laughed until my sides hurt. I know it’s just 90 minutes of guys getting hit in the balls, but that shit is hilarious.

Lest you need reminding, I have a history with “Jackass.” It was the only time the San Francisco Examiner let the lowly TV critic review a movie.

Check out that quote on the bottom left. I’m so famous.

This week on the podcast

We’re talking about Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas and his super creepy wife Ginni on this week’s What a Creep.

On Dorking Out, our podcasting brother from another mother Adam Riske from F This Movie joined us to dork out about “Waiting To Exhale,” which if you’ve read my previous posts you know I’m basically living it right now.


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The high road

Yeah, so, I’m sure my soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress would’ve preferred I took the high road and not written about my experiences.

I certainly thought about it. I thought of Michelle Obama saying, “When they go low, we go high.” I wanted to be the better person. I did that for a year.

But what is the high road?

Is the high road me being quiet so they can pretend they’re good people? Is the high road me lying to people and saying, “Things just didn’t work out” so they don’t have to face those pesky consequences? Is the high road nearby lover’s lane, where they used to hook up while lying to their respective spouses? I can’t find it on Google Maps.

The high road to them is me healing my broken heart in silence so they can control the narrative. That road sounds dark, lonely, and scary. Hard pass.

If me speaking my truth upsets them and makes them feel the sads, then maybe my truth isn’t the problem.

Being honest with y’all has made me feel better. I’m healing. I feel stronger and empowered. I feel more like myself.

Thank you! I’m so grateful to y’all. You’ve commented, emailed, texted, and slid into my DMs. I know I have all the support, and it means so much to me.


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A hex on your ex

Yeah, so, my podcasting sister from another mister Margo suggested that I keep a few insults at the ready just in case I run into my soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress.

She suggested “Hey cunts,” and “”When people ask how you met, what lie do you use?”

Those are solid burns.

I came up with “Ewwww I thought garbage day was on Thursday.” Get it. They’re trash.

I’ve been working on a list of hexes you can put on your ex and/or their partner in infidelity. They’re not serious. We don’t want to wish harm to them, riiiight? Right?! These are just hexes that cause inconveniences. They’re minor but annoying, especially if they happen all the time.

  • I hope you never can remember your passwords
  • May both sides of your pillow always be warm
  • I hope you always get a “See cashier” when you’re trying to pay at the pump
  • May you always accidentally click on an ad
  • I hope every time you use a restroom in a bar there’s no toilet paper
  • May you always run out of hot water in the middle of your shower
  • I hope all of your nonstick pans are sticky
  • I hope every time you try to pick up dog poop there’s a whole in the bag and you touch the poop
  • May there always be a little pebble in your shoe and you can never get it out
  • I hope every time you warm up a burrito it’s frozen in the middle
  • May every cover letter and resume you send out have a typo
  • I hope every time you go to kill a spider it jumps on your face
  • May you miss the ripeness window of your avocado (Thanks, Hazel)
  • I hope every blueberry you eat tastes like dirt
  • May your browsing history go public
  • I hope every time you do a jigsaw puzzle it turns out there one piece missing
  • I hope every time you wash a wine glass it breaks
  • May every time you lick an ice cream it falls off the cone on to the ground
  • I hope the waitstaff never remembers to bring your side of ranch or refill your coffee
  • May you never find the scissors

If y’all have any suggestions, share it in the comments.


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Big city, small town

Yeah, so, San Francisco is a big city, but it’s also a small town. There’s a very good chance that when you go out you’re going to run into someone you know.

This is my nightmare.

I’m terrified that I’m going to run into my soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress, or just his mistress (who was my good friend before she became his mistress). It’s not my nightmare because I’m afraid of what they’ll say to me, because seriously, who cares? It would probably sound like Charlie Brown’s teachers to me. It’s my nightmare because I don’t do mad very well. I’m not an angry person. I rarely get mad. The only time I yell is at sporting events or my drink order in a crowded bar. (Kids, back in my day, we would go into crowded bars with no masks and drink alcohol. Ask your parents or grandparents about it. Good times.)

When I do get mad, I tend to just burst into tears, which makes the person I’m mad at think that I’m sad or ashamed when really I’m so angry I could scream. I’m mad at them because what they’ve done is so hurtful and shitty. They deserve to have someone yell at them every time they leave the house. Maybe I should pay someone to follow them around and boo them until they cry. Should I start a GoFundMe for that?

Princess Bride Boo GIFs - Get the best GIF on GIPHY
Yeah! What she said.

So why should I be anxious about this? I’ve done nothing wrong. They’re the ones that should be anxious. They should be so scared to run into me in public because then they will be face-to-face with the fact that they’re bad people. They lied, cheated, destroyed two families, and continued to lie even after the truth was out – sneaking around and pretending to work on their marriages when really they were still seeing each other all along. Why? So people will think they at least tried to save their marriages? All it did was prolong the pain. And to think, the mistress is training to be a therapist. Bahahahahahahahahha. *deep breath* Bahahahahahahahahaahhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. *cries*

It’s my hope that I don’t ever have to see them or her. I have to see him. We co-parent the best kid on the planet, which means I have to deal with my ex whether I want to or not. And, truthfully, it’s difficult for me. It’s difficult because I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And I thought our little family was important to him, and it wasn’t. He never tried. He didn’t fight for me, our relationship, or our family. And that’s the part I can never forgive.


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Let’s be honest

Yeah, so, I don’t really know how to write on this blog without being honest. I guess that’s why I haven’t been writing that much.

This blog has always been therapy for me. I write about what’s true, what’s really happening. I write about my life, problems and all. I write it out and process that shit. Sometimes other people read it, and it helps them, too. That’s my favorite part.

So here’s the truth, divorce is hard. I have a lot of emotions and questions flying around in my head all the time. Who is this person I’m divorcing? The man I fell in love with and married would’ve never cheated on me. Did I ever really know him? I always referred to him as my mighty, mighty good man on this blog. It turned out he was my mighty, mighty typical man, cheating on me with a supposed friend. Did she ever want to be my friend or did she just want my husband even though she was married, too? Am I too trusting? Are all my happy family memories tainted and ruined forever? Will I ever be able to look back without it hurting so much?

And honestly, how do I tell my story without sounding like the woman scorned and a petty bitch? Or maybe that shit doesn’t matter. He lies. I don’t. I write the truth here. I always have.

I’m just so tired of pretending. I’m tired of pretending that I can just rub some dirt on it and walk it off. I’m tired of pretending that we both tried to work on our marriage when the truth is that only I did the work. I’m tired of pretending that what happened didn’t shake me to my core. You can go back into the archives on this blog. I truly believed that we were a true love story. My heart was absolutely shattered when I learned the truth. I was in shock for months. I thought we might try to work it out and go to marriage counseling. But the truth is we were never going to work it out. Even during counseling, he was most likely still seeing her and going through the motions so he could say he’s a good guy who really tried. Unfortunately for me, I was gullible enough to believe that we had something worth saving. It took me a long time to stop feeling stupid.

But, BUT, stay with me here … luckily, I have the best friends in the world. The kind of friends who take me out of town so I can get some perspective, and then proceed to shake the shit out of me and say, “What the fuck are you doing?”

So, how am I now? Pretty good, my friends. Seriously. I’m good. Don’t worry.

I’ve learned so much about myself in this past year. I’m stronger than I ever thought. Plus, I’m a goddamn delight, and I’ll punch anyone who says differently. I’m creating a warm, happy home for me, Calvin, and the dogs. I’ve redecorated the house, and it feels so much more like me with colors, more light, comfy furniture, and soft throw blankets everywhere to snuggle under.

My new office ❤️

I’m actually kinda proud of myself. I’m handling my business. I’m dealing with everything the very best I can, and I can hold my head up high. There’s no shame in my game. I did everything I could to save my marriage, but it takes two. And now I’m doing everything I can to raise a smart, kind-hearted human while taking care of myself, too.

My friends are always down to hang out, chat on the phone, or text whenever I need it. They’re more than happy to be my plus one at weddings or check out new breweries. They boost me up when I’m down. Oh, and they don’t sleep with my husband, which makes them the very best people. Too soon?

I have a fabulous job surrounded by smart and caring people. Even when the world around me is on fire, my coworkers on the other side of my webcam or in Slack always inspire me, make me laugh, and offer their support. I adore them, and someday we’re going to all be together in person, and I’m going to hug the shit out of all of them.

I’m having so much fun podcasting with Margo. Oh, and What a Creep just got picked up by Spreaker from IHeart Radio. No big deal. We’re going to make a little advertising money, and eventually (fingers crossed) do some live shows. I know, right?! I’m downright giddy.

I really am enjoying my time these days. I’ve been baking. I’ve been reading more. I’ve been journaling, and I’m ready to start writing again – on this blog and some other projects I have simmering in my brain. I watch whatever I want without judgment. If I want to watch “Legally Blonde” for the millionth time or turn on yet another true crime documentary series on Netflix, I do it.

So, yeah, that’s the deal. This is my story. I’m owning it. I’m speaking my truth. I’m not pretending anymore.


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Go ahead, put up your holiday decorations

Yeah, so, since our little family has changed this year it’s time to change up our family holiday traditions.

With no other adult around here to answer to, I’ve decided to lean in hard on the holidays.

On September 1, I put out decorative gourds, because it’s decorative gourd season, motherfuckers. By mid-September, the Halloween decorations were out. By October 1, it looked like a goddamn pumpkin patch in this house. On November 1, I got out the holiday boxes, and this happened on November 2.

This is my first-ever artificial Christmas tree. I’d love a real tree. They smell so good. But the truth is, it was just going to be too much hassle. I didn’t want to deal with getting it home and dragging it up the stairs, blah blah blah. I might go back to a real tree, but this little artificial tree is great for now. I bought some Christmas tree-scented candles. I’m enjoying the setup so far, and Calvin loves it.

I put up my holiday lights around the house, and I started watching Netflix and Hallmark holiday movies with recommendations from my experts, Margo and Christine.

It’s been fun to go all in. But it’s been a little sad, too. I had to sort through all the ornaments and take my ex’s decorations out. During the holidays last year, the shit hit the fan, and I’m very aware that going all-in on the holidays might be my way of coping this year. I’m dealing with that and being kind to myself and Calvin. He’s already asked some awkward questions that I don’t have good answers for. I’m trying to be honest when appropriate and listen. And I always let him know that his parents love him very much.

So, yeah, I know that people have a lot of thoughts and feelings about when is the best time to start decorating for the holidays. “It’s not even Thanksgiving, and you’ve got Christmas decorations out …” I get it. You do you, boo. I lump the holidays in together. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s are “the holidays” to me. All of these decorations are for all three. Do whatever makes you happy, my friend. 


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Emotional baggage is heavy, y’all

Yeah, so, I know it’s been a while. I haven’t been writing much here. But I’ve been thinking a lot about why that is. I’ve always written on this blog in good times and bad times. So, what’s different about this bad time? Maybe it’s because it’s not just my story. It’s our story. And maybe it’s because I haven’t really been dealing with it. Writing about it makes the unreal real.

But it’s time.

The truth is I’ve been in shock. I’ve been in shock since the day after Christmas when he told me. One minute I was in a happy marriage, and the next minute I wasn’t. We were a happy family, and then we weren’t. I walked around in a daze for months. I was completely shell-shocked, blindsided. Everyone was asking me questions, and I had no answers. I still don’t have answers, to be honest. I had no idea he was unhappy with me and our marriage. He never told me.

I’m being completely honest with y’all. This isn’t a case of “Well, he probably told her all the time but she wasn’t listening” or “She was in denial.” I was listening. I wasn’t in denial. A few weeks before he told me, I told him about a nightmare I had, in which something happened and our marriage was over. He laughed and said that would never happen. But the truth is, it had already happened. It’s almost like my subconscious knew something was going on. What I’m saying is I’m obviously a psychic. Check out my new show “San Franpsychic,” coming to TLC this December.

It’s been almost a year. It’s a lot to process, and I don’t think I’m anywhere near finished processing it. Maybe I should be farther along in the healing process. But I think people deal with shit on their own timeline. I know I’ve been doing the very best I can in this situation. And most of the time I’m thinking to myself, “Bitch, you’re doing a good job.”

I’m in therapy, and I had this big revelation. I don’t really let myself feel angry or sad. Whenever those feelings come up, I quickly brush them aside, and I think that’s dealing with it when it’s really the opposite. Why don’t I let myself feel angry or sad? Because feeling angry or sad makes me feel ungrateful – ungrateful for all the good things I have. So, on top of feeling sad and/or angry, I also feel ungrateful. The truth is these aren’t exclusive. I don’t know why my mind thinks this is an either/or situation. I can be angry AND sad AND grateful.

And because of this, I’ve been walking around in a heightened state of anxiety for months. My cup is so full. Everything makes it overflow. I’ve had multiple panic attacks – really bad ones where my hands, feet, and face go numb. The kind that increases my daily anxiety level because now, on top of everything else, I’m worried that I’m going to have another panic attack when I’m out by myself and no one will help me. My therapist advised me to feel my emotions – empty my cup. And finally, one morning on a Calvin-less weekend, I just let it go.

Let It Go GIFs | Tenor

I don’t know if I can explain how difficult this was for me. My mind and my body didn’t want it to happen. My mind quickly tried to distract me, and my body forced me to get up and walk around. It was physically hard for me to cry – to let myself be sad and angry. It’s like I was afraid that once I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. But I did stop, and you know what? I felt better. I feel better.

Throughout all of this, I have held on to the idea that I want to handle this situation in a way that I can look back on and be proud of. But part of that is taking care of myself. I need to deal with my emotions so I’m not carrying around a shitload of emotional baggage with me everywhere I go. That shit is heavy. I’ve already got a ginormous mom purse filled with snacks, water, sunscreen, toy cars, and a Nintendo Switch. I’m not strong enough to carry around a ton of emotional baggage, too.

So, yeah, that’s where I’m at these days. That’s how I’m doing. How are you?


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‘Schitt’ happens

Yeah, so, I’m thisclose to finally finishing “Schitt’s Creek.” I’ve got just a few episodes left, and I’m saving them. Saving … maybe stalling. I think I’m stalling.

“Schitt’s Creek” and “Ted Lasso” are so good, because the characters are good people. Both of the shows preach empathy but they’re not heavy handed. I love them the way I love “Parks and Recreation.” They’re all shows about good people that are trying to do the right thing. And they all have a deep bench of hilarious supporting characters. All of these shows renew my faith in humanity.

Anyway, I absolutely adore “Schitt’s Creek.” Shoutout of my best buddy John who has been recommending this show to me for years.

I love all the characters on “Schitt’s Creek,” and I could point to a million scenes that I love. But there are two that I always go back to. One makes me cry in a good way, and the other makes me laugh stupid hard.

I’ve gone back to the scene in which Stevie sings “Maybe This Time” so many times. She’s scared but she’s being brave. She’s been so closed off, but she’s ready to be open. I was Stevie. I was Stevie for years. I was watching everyone grow up and live their lives from the sidelines. Eventually, I opened myself up, grew up and I lived my life, too. It didn’t go the way I planned. (Does anything?) But I’m still living my life. With everything that is going on, I would be really justified in closing down. But I’m not. I’m open (and I don’t mean that in a gross way, weirdos). I’m ready. I’ll never close down again.

There are times when I’m sad and angry and so disappointed. I let myself feel that. The things that happened, they were beyond my control. There’s nothing I could’ve done differently. But I also know that I’m a fun, awesome badass. I don’t know if anyone laughs as much as I do. I make the best of every situation, and I have fun wherever I go. I can’t think of a better way to live my life.

OK, on the flip side, this scene makes me laugh out loud every single time to see it. I will never not laugh when David takes the computer.