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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
Yeah, so, after 18 months my mighty, mighty good boy Calvin is back in school.
I feel really lucky to have such an amazing kid. He’s so great about wearing his mask. He already likes his own space, so he doesn’t get close to other people. He’s a champ when it comes to washing his hands. And he’s in a small class. There’s only 11 other kids.
First day of school photos are required by law. I think it’s a federal law.
Am I nervous about him being back in school while the Delta variant runs wild through the country? Ummm, duh. I have well-earned health anxiety so yeah, I’m worried.
But I also know that his teacher and the classroom aides are doing everything they can to be safe, and they’re all vaccinated.
Calvin is so happy to be back to school. He says he’s happy to be riding the school bus again. But I know he’s happy to see his teacher in person.
Between going back to school and 50/50 custody with his dad, Calvin is craving just being home. We went to an A’s vs. Giants game on Saturday. We had a great time. It was crowded but we sat far away from everyone, and we wore our masks when near other folks.
While we were at the game he asked me, “What are we doing tomorrow?”
“We don’t have any plans,” I told him.
“I would like to do nothing tomorrow. I just want to stay home.”
So we did.
He watched videos. I read and did laundry. We walked the dogs. He took a really long bath. It looked so nice that I did the same thing with a massive glass of red wine. I mean, red wine in a wine glass. I didn’t fill the tub with red wine … yet.
The entire day was mellow and delightful. In fact, the entire weekend was great. It was nice to be back at the ballpark with friends. I loved having the downtime the next day.
The truth is I don’t like being a 50/50 parent. It bums me out and, to be honest, it pisses me off. But this is my new normal so I’m handling it the way I handle everything else in my life. I’m making the best of it. I’m doing yoga. I’ve got some paint by numbers. I’ve got some cross-stitching. I’m reading more. I take the dogs to the beach. It turns out my big, brown dog Max is a hot guy magnet. I have the most awesome family and the best friends. During the week, I have work, and I super love my work and coworkers. And, of course, I have my two podcasts (Dorking Out and What a Creep) with the amazing Margo. I love that I have an excuse to talk to her practically every day.
I’m just doing my thing, and it feels pretty good.
Yeah, so, sometimes I think of my broken heart like a broken bone. If I practice a little patience and take care of my heart, it will heal, right?
Then I think of my ankle.
I sprained it five years ago, and it still hurts from time to time. Maybe my heart will never be the same. I hate thinking that. Of course, logically, I know that my heart doesn’t need to be the same. It can be different. Different is OK. Different can be better.
I’ve been getting emails and DMs from some of y’all that are going through a similar situation. It sucks. It’s hard. You have to change the way you think, change the way you feel, and change the way you do things.
There’s no one thing that makes it easier. Here’s a few things I’m doing these days to heal my broken heart.
I’m watching “Legally Blonde” … a lot. I’m binging “Schitt’s Creek,” and I’m rewatching “Fleabag.” Oh, and I’m listening to Kesha’s “Woman” on repeat.
At the urging of my therapist, I’m reading “Getting Past Your Breakup” by Susan J. Elliott. It’s been helpful. I certainly recognize some of the feelings and situations she describes. If you’re looking for a breakup book that’s on the lighter side, I recommend “It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken.” It’s an easy read to distract you, and it will give you a little boost when you need it.
I love beach walks with my dogs. The world is opening back up. Wash your hands, put on your mask, and go outside.
Oh beach, please
I’m back on the mat. My super-awesome job offers afternoon yoga twice a week on Zooooooom. I’m taking advantage.
I’m sharing with my family and friends so they know how to support me. Your family and friends love you. They want to help you. If you had a family member or friend that was going through a breakup and having a difficult time, wouldn’t you want to know so you could help? Of course you would, because you’re a fuckin’ great person. Tell them what’s up and let them shoulder some of your burden.
I’ve been redecorating the house. I’m renting, so I’m not getting too crazy with the redecorating. But new curtains, new art and photos, and some new pieces of furniture have helped me. The house doesn’t feel like a museum to my failed marriage anymore. It feels like me. It feels new.
I’m journaling. Writing everything out helps. It’s an emotional time. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. It feels good to just write them out instead of bottling them up and unleashing them at a bad time. And, of course, writing on this blog again helps me. It makes me feel like myself again.
Yeah, so, Margo and I dork out about 1991’s “Madonna: Truth or Dare” on this week’s Dorking Out. I watched this documentary so much back in the day. Before Girl Power was a thing, there was Madonna in this movie acting like a boss.
Before it was called “Truth or Dare”, it was called “In Bed with Madonna”
Over at What a Creep, Margo tells the story of Hollywood fixer Eddie Mannix. We love to talk about old timey creeps. It’s a good one.
Yeah, so, on this week’s Dorking Out, Adam Riske from F This Movie joins us to talk about “Sliver.” This means that Margo and I giggled our asses off. This is a really fun one, my friends.
Over at What a Creep, we kicked off season 11 with a trio of creeps, including Blake Bailey, Josh Duggar, and Scott Rudin.
The Sonia Show 