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 just don’t know what to say. I’m shocked. I truly believed that people in this country would do the right thing, and vote for Hillary Clinton. Instead, they elected a monster.
They elected a lying, sexist, racist, homophobic, hypercritical, serial sexual-assaulting asshole.
So, let’s all say good-bye to affordable health care. It was nice while it lasted, gay marriage. So long, a woman’s right to choose.
Say hello to women being second-class citizens again, deporting people based on their religion, breaking up families, a shitty economy, sky-rocketing gas prices, and easy access to guns for felons and mentally ill.
This fuckin’ waste of space was endorsed by the KKK. We will now have a president who thinks it’s OK to mock people with disabilities and special needs, and to sexually assault women. I don’ t know how I’m going to tell my autistic son that this country elected a president that thinks it’s OK to make fun of him. Good job, America.
I’m so ashamed and embarrassed. I’m so worried for my gay friends and family. I’m so worried for my Muslim, African-American and Latino friends. I’m so worried for the millions of people who are going to be stripped of their health care.
I was going to write a blog post along the lines of “Well, we had a good run, America,” but I can’t bring myself to be flippant today. This election result wasn’t based the economy, jobs or Hillary’s emails. This election was based on hate and fear. It was based on racism, sexism and homophobia. People who say any different are lying to you and possibly to themselves.
What I always do when I feel helpless is I donate money. I can’t always donate my time, but I can donate money to organizations that fight for what’s right. I will be donating to Planned Parenthood, ACLU and a to-be-determined climate change organization. Also, I fully intend to give Donald Trump all the respect that Republicans gave President Obama throughout the past 8 years.
To all the good people in this country: You have one day to lick your wounds and feel sorry for yourself, and then tomorrow we go back to work and fight for what’s right.
Yeah, so, we review a lot of stuff in this week’s Dorking Out podcast.
Smith and my brother-in-law Tony Hicks, who also happens to be a movie critic for the Bay Area News Group (fancy!), review “Jason Bourne.” I chime in with assy questions and comments, because I didn’t see it. No, as a woman and a mother it was my duty to see “Bad Moms.”
We review “Bad Moms” in our third segment. Did I like it? You’ll have to listen and find out.
We kick off the podcast with a review of “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child,” which dropped Saturday at midnight. Smith is a good kid who does his homework. He read the entire thing, while I only managed to read the first act. Sorry, but I had kids’ birthday parties to attend this weekend, which I guess makes me a good mom, but a bad podcaster.
Yeah, so, we ain’t afraid of no ghostbros. Smith and I review the new “Ghostbusters” movie. Did it ruined our childhood? You’ll have to listen to find out.
We also talk about last week’s Emmy nominations. Plus, Smith reviews “The Fifty-Year Mission,” which is an oral history of “Star Trek.” Oh, and long-time good buddy Aaron explains Pokemon Go to us.
Yeah, so, I just discovered that our company put up a security camera in our office. We had a series of break-ins last year, and apparently, they installed this security camera while I was on my chemo-cation.
I don’t really care. I mean, if someone wants to watch me sit in my cube and pretend to work all day, then enjoy. It’s like an episode of “The Office,” but boring and even more cringe-inducing. Maybe they can play a drinking game. Drink every time Sonia:
Of course, now that I know about it, I’ve started talking to the camera.
“It’s OK, Security Camera. I’m just getting more tea. I’m not stealing it. It’s free. It’s peppermint tea, in case you are wondering.”
“I’m going to use the bathroom, Security Camera. I’ll be right back.”
“Guess who’s eating carrots and hummus again in her cube, Security Camera? It’s me!”[holding up a tub of hummus]
Sometimes I do a little dance in front of it. Sometimes I just stand there, and smile and wave. I have a feeling that whoever is watching the footage is not impressed.
Yeah, so, I have all kinds of thoughts and feelings about this year’s Oscar nominations, and we discuss them on this week’s Pop Show podcast.
We also talk about “Sesame Street” airing on HBO and the death of David Bowie. I think we even talk about the price of printer ink, so we’re kinda all over the place … as usual.
Yeah, so, here’s a totally true story about how I started singing Michael Jackson’s “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You” on BART with some random guy.
I was riding back to San Francisco from Lafayette after my hair appointment. And yeah, I get my hair done in Lafayette. Oh, and yeah, I know I hardly have any hair, but I still color it, because I’m not ready to be gray yet. Oh, and yeah, I know that with a faux hawk I look like Ed Grimely.
So anyway, this hair appointment that is every six weeks isn’t just a hair appointment. My sister, my oldest friend Amanda, and my 13-year-old niece Lorelei join me. We all get our hair done together, and then we go out to dinner. I drink several glasses of wine and take BART home. It’s our thing, and our thing is awesome.
So, I was riding home on BART, kinda tipsy as usual — just listening to music, looking at Instagram and trying to stay off Facebook because I don’t want to read about how Donald Trump has gone Full Hitler. It’s depressing.
A man, possibly homeless, definitely off in some way sat down next to me. He pointed at my Star Wars Vans.
Him: “I like your shoes.” Me: “Thank you.” Him: “You know those things outside of Oakland? Those structures? Spielberg used them as inspiration for those big walking things in ‘Star Wars.’” Me: “I know.”
I didn’t bother to correct him that it was George Lucas, not Steven Spielberg, and those things are called AT-ATs and they were in “The Empire Strikes Back.” Wearing Star Wars-shoes is nerdy enough, and I don’t need to school some random guy on Bart about all things Star Wars. Also, Lucas says that’s a myth, but whatever, it’s still a cool story.
At this point, I took out my earbuds. Instead of staring at my phone and reading about other people’s experiences, I was going to talk to this guy.
Him: “I’m not wearing my nice Italian loafers today, because it’s going to rain.” Me: “I think it’s supposed to rain on Thursday, so you could still wear them for a few days this week.” Him: “And I have this nice jacket. I bought it in Hollywood in a thrift store. I like to think a famous person used to wear it.” Me: “It’s a nice coat. I bet someone famous used to own it. It looks good on you, though.”
He went on to tell me that he wants to be a good person, and that he tries to live his life with the morals that he learned from his grandma and great grandma.
Him: “People say that Oakland is a violent city, but I don’t think so.” Me: “I don’t think so, either. I love Oakland.” Him: “I think I’m a good person, because I love God. A lot of people say they love God, but they don’t practice what they preach. They don’t really love God.” Me: “Amen. I wish more people tried to be good people.” Him: “I just love God so much. You know that song, ‘I Just Can’t Stop Loving You’?” Me: “Of course I do. That’s Michael Jackson.” Him: “That’s how I feel about God.” [starts singing] “I just can’t stop loving you. I just can’t stop loving you.”
So then I started singing with him
“I just can’t stop loving you. I just can’t stop loving you. And if I stop … Then tell me, just what will I do. Cuz I just can’t stop loving you.”
He smiled at me, and shook my hand.
Him: “You know your number is 3, right?” Me: “Is it?” Him: “Your number is 3. That’s the highest number.” Me: “How does that work?” Him: “3 gives off all the positive vibrations. There’s a light around you.” Me: “That’s good to know. It makes me happy to think there’s a light around me. Thank you.”
At this point, the strap of my purse had fallen off my shoulder. He pushed it back up on my shoulder.
Him: “Be careful. Keep your bag close to you. … When is your birthday?” Me: “October 2.” Him: [his eyes got all big] “SEE?! October is 10. 1 + 0 + 2 = 3! 3!” Me: “I guess I am a 3.”
When we rolled into the Embarcadero station he asked me my name.
Him: “Sonia, it was really good to meet you. Have a good night.” Me: “It was really nice to meet you, too. Have a good night, sir.”
We shook hands, and he got off the train before I could ask him his name.
Yeah, so, I can’t believe it’s been seven years since I went on my last-ever first date.
Then.
Now.
Happy dating anniversary to my mighty, mighty good man David!
I don’t even know what else to say. He’s my favorite person. He’s the best husband, father and friend a girl can ask for. I’m fuckin’ stoked that he agreed to be introduced to me seven years ago by a mutual friend. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without him. I’m sure it would really suck. I’m sure Calvin can’t image what his life would be like without David, because Calvin wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t have agreed to have a baby with anyone else, so you’re welcome, world!
Yeah, so, it’s finally starting to feel like fall here in San Francisco.
I love fall. I love sweaters and boots and scarves and cute dresses with tights. Wheeee! It’s my favorite. And now I’m finished with chemo, and I’ve had my last breast reconstruction surgery, so I can just kick back and enjoy the shit out of my favorite time of the year. October through the New Year is THE BEST.
I just want to eat and drink pumpkin everything, and start watching holiday-themed movies from “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” to “The Thin Man” (which is our New Year’s Eve tradition). OK, well, maybe not pumpkin spice everything …
Pumpkin spice vodka? Come on, you guys. That’s gross. You’re taking the pumpkin spice thing too far. I read that pumpkin spice hummus and pumpkin spice gum exists. Plus, there’s such a thing as pumpkin spice beef jerky. I wouldn’t eat that shit when I ate meat. Ewww.
So, yeah, I’m excited that fall is here. I get to bust out all my cute clothes, but I’m also excited that my hair is starting to look less like a result of chemo and more like style choice. It’s happening! My hair is really coming in, including my eyebrows. Eyebrows, you guys!
Current hair status.
My eyelashes are growing back, too. Of course, all of this exciting hair growth means I’m back to having to shave my legs like a normal person again, but I think I’m up to the challenge.
Oh, one more thing: Now that I can drink beer again and things are getting back to normal, the podcast Old Movies, New Beer will be returning soon. If you haven’t listened to my annoying voice before, this is your chance! Also, we take requests, so if you have a movie you’d love to hear mighty, mighty good man David and I get drunk and discuss, let us know in the comments on Old Movies, New Beer.
The Sonia Show 