IMG_1241I am not angry.

I am not sad.

I’m not mad…

Or bitter.

My heart is tired.

That’s really it. My heart is just flat out exhausted. If you can try and imagine the poor thing for a minute…beating, and beating. Over and over, and over. Doing such a good job. Pumping all that blood around this kick-ass fucking body of mine…day after day, week after week. Giving and giving…and giving LOVE. Just so I can get what in return? Nada. Zilch. A big fat, fucking NOTHING. Well, that’s not entirely true…I got a lot of love. Plus a bunch of lies. My poor heart is just tired. And I can hardly blame it. It’s been through an awful lot over the last four years. And I think, it’s time for a break.

Hey, heart! It’s me, Jennifer….And I’m going to give you a break. 







fun….or not.

It’s been a year. One flipping year. Cinco De Mayo all y’all, will be the ONE year anniversary of my divorce. Well, since the final papers were signed anyway. Yuppers. Last year, on the Fifth of May I became legally single. Can you even believe it? That it’s only been a year? And look how much has happened! My life has changed so drastically, it’s insane. And I’ve made so many mistakes. I know, I’ve made a shit-ton of mistakes! But really, give a girl a break! Cut me a little fucking slack, ok? I mean, after a year of having a kid no one expects you to know how to raise it. After a year of med school, they don’t expect you to perform brain surgery!  After a year of anything, you’re just…well a year wiser. And that is it. So I need to take it easy on myself, and the rest of you need to lighten up, too. I’m new at this divorce thing, and after a year of being on my own I think I am doing just fine.

So there.

This morning, I was talking to my sister…she was the one who told me to stop beating myself up. Take a deep breath, and be proud of the woman I am right now. Where I have landed, and what I have accomplished in the last 12 loooonggg months. I have a pilot ready to shop, I have a house that’s all mine… and I have two boys that are happy. Wow. When you look at it that way, I think I am on the road to success. The world is my oyster! Ok, maybe if you measure “success” by your house, and your kids. But I am just grasping at straws here guys. Work with me! But truly, it’s only been a year! And sure, I had to up my meds, and sure…I had a few bouts of hysteria along the way. But wouldn’t you?

No wait, I’ll answer that for ya: you would. And it takes a strong person to get divorced. This whole thing rocks your world. And I’m not suggesting you should stay in a shitty marriage. (Don’t start sending me hate-mail) But I am saying think long and hard about it before you walk out that door. The struggle is real, the pain is real…the change in lifestyle is real. And if you think the grass is greener, think again. Now sure, there are circumstances that are out of your control. Your spouse cheats, or he’s a drug user. She’s abusive. The trust is lost. He walks out. I get it. But if you feel like ending it just because you don’t get that “warm and fuzzy” feeling every time the garage door opens, suck it up Buttercup. You will hate your life even more on the other side. Try dating the shitheads I met on Nothing “warm and fuzzy” going on there,  trust me. Well, except maybe their balls. Unless they shaved them, and in that case they were not warm, nor fuzzy. Just smooth and maybe room temp? Ugh. Sorry, Dad.

So, I have learned a ton in a year. And I’ve made HUGE mistakes. But I can only learn from them. I made stupid purchases thinking I had the money to spend. After all, I was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. I bought art I couldn’t afford, to support my friends. I put a sport court in my back yard to be “fun mom”. I had to compete with FUN DAD, after all! He kept the big house, so I just thought I should have something cooler. I mean, come on! Every kid needs a basketball court in their backyard, right? Wrong. And I traveled. I went wherever I could go to escape the aloneness I felt when I didn’t have my boys. Every week they were with Mark, I hopped a flight to nowhere. Or somewhere. Or anywhere. As long as it wasn’t here. I didn’t want to sit in my too-quiet house alone.

So I left.

I know you married folk don’t get it. And it’s okay. But I wish I could climb into your windows at night, and sprinkle “Happy Couple Dust” on y’all while you’re asleep. So you’d appreciate your marriages. You’d love harder, and be thankful for the person next to you. Marriage is tough. It sucks sometimes. It’s work. But I wish I had someone telling me all of this when I was with Mark. I wish I had blog to read, written by an HONEST chick that went through it. Fuck, I would have done it so much differently. But I’ll tell you this much for free. If I ever get another chance at it…this marriage thing. I won’t fuck it up.

I will do it right. I’ll learn from my mistakes. And I will live Happily Ever After. One year down and a lifetime to go…Happy Anniversary to Me. ;)

xo j




I should have gotten on the plane.

Why didn’t I get on the plane?

I packed my bag.

I drove to the airport.

And I sat there.

I just sat.

And watched the planes taking off. Thinking about my life. How it’s changed so much in the past few years. Where I am now, and where I used to be. How I miss married life, and my family. Filled with regret. Did I do the right thing? Make the right decisions for my boys? Would I ever be content with being “here”? Ya know, just here in the moment. I tried not to cry. And I just sat. I knew I was going to miss my flight, if I didn’t get out of the car and walk into the airport…I would miss it. I was headed to see a friend. Well, not just any friend…but this intelligent, handsome, amazingly-sexy friend, that just so happened to live in Alaska.  Ok, not Alaska…total Jen-ism. But it might as well be Alaska, because the real place he lives is just as far. But instead of going in, I picked up my phone and called Mark. It’s funny, since the divorce I talk to Mark more than ever. More than when we were married. We have a great relationship; I value his opinion. He’s my go-to when I’m sad. He is my “person”. And he always answers the phone. Or at least texts back. Except when he’s on a date. And I totally get that. Could you imagine? We have to set some boundaries for fucksake. And that is one of them. If he’s on a date, he won’t pick up. And I get it. Kinda.

Where was I? Oh ya…I called Mark. And he answered on the first ring. He asked if I was ok, he knew I was supposed to be flying out. I said, no. Then I asked him if I was an idiot. And of course he said “yes” to which I respond sweetly, “fuck off”. (Ex-banter, gotta love it.) Then he said, “Jen you need to hurry, you’re going to miss your flight.” Then I told him I didn’t know if I should go! If I should get on the plane to see Dr.McBrillant? I needed some advice, and fast. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Why can’t I make a fucking decision?! Uggggghhh.

But Mark knew the backstory…

Dr.McBrilliant, is well…a fucking rockstar. He’s a genius. Way too smart for me;  I can barely hold a conversation with the man. But really, who needs to talk? I can just look at him and smile. And he’s sexy as all get out. He talks with really big wordage. Or is it verbiage? Whateves. This is about as sapiosexual as it gets, y’all. This guy is everything I’ve been looking for…smart, successful and caring. And we’ve been friends for like our entire lives. Yup! I’ve know him since we were kids. Friends. The friend thing, remember? We are friends. But he lives across the country. And he will never relocate to Charlotte. Never. And I know, you’re thinking, “Never say never, Jen.” But I am telling y’all…never. He’s a doctor. And a great one at that. He’s not moving, and I’m not moving. So we are never going to be in the same place. Well, at least not for a long, long time. And I’m not sure I can do that, or I want that. I just don’t know. But we have HISTORY. There’s more, but I only have 700 words. Don’t want y’all gettin’ bored.

So, I asked Mark for advice. If I went, what really was the point? Why even start something I knew was going nowhere? Put my heart out there to be smashed. If I went there, and I fell in love…I would be fucked. And if I hated him…I wasted an entire weekend with my boys, and my time. My head was spinning, and I was freaking out. I had minutes to decide. And Mark had a good, solid argument. He was rational and logical. Would I ever really date a man that lived across the country? I LOVE ATTENTION for Godessake! We all know I am an attention whore! How could a guy that lives in Alaska, that has such an important career ever give me the attention I crave and deserve? Sigh. Isn’t this just the dang saddest thing ever? He could be my true love! My BESHERT! (Look it up, goyem) This could be it! I thanked Mark, and I pulled out of the parking structure.

I called Dr.McBrilliant, and told him I just couldn’t do it.

Regret is the devil. The worst. You never want to live with it or have any, duh!  But life isn’t life without it. How can you not regret something you’ve done at some point in time? It’s unavoidable. We all make mistakes. Made a choice we wish we could “unchoose”. Its like a sliding door, or turning a corner…taking a left instead of a right. Would-a, could-a, should-a, dammit!  If only I got on that plane. If only I listened to my heart instead of my head, maybe we could work it out.  “If only” is the worst. Its like taking a fork and stabbing it in my eye. Especially when Dr.McBrilliant is as wonderful as he is…but he totally understood. I hope he understood. I am kicking myself, dammit.

If only I didn’t say the things I said to Mark. If only we didn’t move to Charlotte. If only I didn’t let my marriage fall apart. If only I tried harder to fix it when it did. If only I had more sex, or paid more attention, or loved harder…or cooked more often. If only I had a second chance at it. If only I did it right the first time. If only I could forgive myself, and just know that people make mistakes every single day. If only I had 1000 more words, and a higher dose of Wellbutrin. If only.  ;)

xo j

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The Truth Hurvitz

I never wanted this to be anything.

I never did it for the money.

I never thought it would be what it is, or where it is….

Or what it came to be.

I just wanted to feel better.

It was for me.

I sat down one day, a year and a half ago…and I just wanted to feel better. I wanted to make it all stop. The sadness, the anxiety, the loneliness. I wanted to make my mind go other places, so I could stop hurting so fucking bad. I wanted to heal. So, I sat down and I started typing. And I never stopped. You all gave me such positive feedback. You sent kindhearted messages, telling me that you understood…and felt what I was feeling. You empathized, and you got me. So I just kept going. I fed off your emotions, and gave you my everything. The good, the bad…the truth.

And sure, I knew the heat I would get. I was fully aware of the backlash from putting myself out there, especially in this town. Living in the South, below the Bible Belt…I knew. But I didn’t care. My best friends warned me, telling me I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And some of them supported my decision to blog. Some of them. But most never even talk about it, or “like” it on FB. Hell, most never even admit they read it. Which is fine, I get it. It’s a lot. I can’t expect everyone to post The Truth Hurvitz on their Facebook walls. Shit, I can’t really expect anyone to even be friends with me after the shit I write. So, thank you to the ones that did have my back. You know who you are, I love you. And appreciate you, and will have you next to me when I win my Emmy. Or Nobel Peace Prize. Or at my funeral.

But it hasn’t been easy making all y’all laugh.

I have been self deprecating, and taken a few hard hits. I have lost friendships, and lost relationships. Hurt people’s feelings, and maybe even messed up my chances of happiness along the way. This has been a crazy ride, this blog thing. And yes, you can pick up what I’m laying down…all crazy-things must come to an end. I am pulling the proverbial plug on The Truth Hurvitz, and I’m sad. It’s been such a huge part of who I am since my separation, I’m not even sure I can go-it alone. Without my “blog-blankie” to grasp onto. This “safety net” so-to-speak, is where I have come to get my stress out, and my funny on. I am crying, no sobbing as I type…give me a minute, it’s hard to see for fucksake. And I have snot running down my face. There, I’m good.

I have been real. And really me. Blog-Jen and Jen-Jen are the same person…which always made me so mad. When guys tried to ask for one, or the other. Like they could just order me up. Last night, I got a message from this great man. He said he could no longer talk to me because he read Sept 29. He had just finished reading September 29th? Oh, my blog. Great. He could never date a girl like me, who wanted a “story over a relationship”. I said I was sorry if I hurt his feelings. I was never looking for a story. And I am so longing for a relationship. I didn’t tell him that. But after dating for almost 3 years, who doesn’t want a relationship? I’m tired. And just want someone to lay with me in my big, California King. Zac is fine, but he won’t snuggle since he got braces. Like the metal made him unable to hug his mother? Shit.

I woke up this morning, and I contacted my agent in LA. I told him I was done. Not done with writing! Hey, I think I can do lots with my new found art of beating myself up to make other people feel better! But I am done with this. There is just no way I can ever be in a good, solid, happy-loving relationship while I’m blogging about bleeding out in hotel rooms. Embellished or not, truth or exaggerated…its time all y’all. It is time. I can finish my book, or take that screenplay writing class at Queens College. I can go back to another Med Assistant program, or actually go to a bar and not be whispered about. My friends can start talking to me again, about real things…and not have to worry about being blogged about.

Fuck, I hope they never felt that way.

I feel like a little piece of me is going to be missing, is that weird? Kinda, I’m sure. I might have to mourn the loss for a bit. Sit Shiva for The Truth Hurvitz. I need a minion, who is available tonight? I will call the Rabbi. Lay this bitch to rest, right? Ugh, no. I can’t kill it completely. But I can unplug it, for as long as I need to. Who knows, maybe one day I will be back…but for now, I need to say goodbye. Now you will actually have to call me to find out what’s going on in my life. No more, “I read it on the blog” or “I follow the blog, so I know…” I made it too easy for you guys. My life was an open book.

Well, here’s a plus: dating should be back to normal again. I won’t have to explain the blog anymore. Guys might actually want to go out with me. And hopefully, I can find one who wants Real Jen, and not “Blog-Jen”. Because “Blog Jen” will be dead and gone. Kaput. 6-feet under. I will be back to boring ole me. I will have to come up with a new bit. Maybe a hip-hop dance number. Maybe I’ll go Ginger! Maybe I’ll just discuss politics, and my views on gun control. But I can promise you this, whatever it is I’m gabbing about…it will be the truth. It’s just who I am. Blog, or no blog.

Time to close this chapter of my life, and move onto bigger and better things.

I hope I can find them sooner than later, cause I kinda love this thing. I’m making the right decision. Closing this door. I can always open it again, right? Unless of course I use cement or I dead bolt it with super glue. I am stalling, I know. I need to end this before I change my mind. I hate goodbyes. They fucking suck, and I am the worst at them. So, just let me do this.

I’ll go first, then you.

Bye all y’all, be good! Keep in touch with me, and remember…

The Truth Hurvitz: But Lies Are Worse ;)

xo j