happy alone

unknownShampoo.

Rinse.

Conditioner…

Rinse.

Face scrub with the Clarisonic thingy…

Rinse.

I do most of my thinking in my shower. My creating. Actually, I do my choreographing in there, too. Oh, and my writing. I spend a lot of time in the shower. It’s my happy place. I just have peace in there, and quiet. My mind is still…and the water drowns out the other noises in my head. I just think. And compose. I come up with a piece of choreography and I literally figure it out in my brain…then I get out, and its golden. Same with an idea for a blog. I shit you not, it just kinda comes to me. I jump out, and write it on a sticky note pad that I keep in a drawer next to the shower. I know, it’s weird. But aren’t all creative people strange? We are. I know we are, but I don’t care. I am fine with my weirdness. I’ve learned to accept the fact that I just do abnormal shit. I dance in my shower, and talk to myself while I wash my hair. And that is just a-okay in my book.

It took 44 years to accept it…

I am creatively coo-coo.

So, with that said…this morning, I came up with a GENIUS idea whilst shaving! 

images-1How

time

flies

when

you’re

having

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 Match.com. 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

 

 

images-4

 

I’m bored.

Not really.

I am never really bored.

But I am done with my pilot.

Kinda.

I’m actually done with MY part.

Just waiting on Russell to cross check, and recheck…and then, he will send it back to me. And then, I’ll do my changes. We will “discuss” and fight about what’s funny. And what’s stupid. We will go around and around…and finally meet in the middle, or some shit like that. And then, we will be finished. Russ and I will have the most perfect pilot ever. Ha. Well, we will be as close to perfect as perfect can get. We are a pretty good team, the two of us. He is brilliant, and poetic. Smart, and seasoned. And I am well…I am, me. I have a big-ass mouth, and a bad attitude which comes across in my writing. Duh. You read it, and I think you get it. So, Russ cleans me up. And makes me all pretty, and stuff. Wowza, he has quite the job don’t he? He is the potty-mouth-washer-outer. If I could give him a big-ole pump soap to just squirt all over the pages of our screenplay…I swear to Goddess I bet he would. But then, what fucking fun would that be to watch?

Every show needs a little sex. And smut. And every show needs a girl with a vulgar mouth and a big rack. Even if she paid for it. Anyway, here I am. You knew I wouldn’t stay away for long. And I finished kinda quickly! I’m like super-fast at writing, especially when it’s all up in my head. I just have to get it out. Like diarrhea …it just has to come pouring out of me. Can’t wait. Can’t hold it….so, I’m here. Hi! Hiiiiii. Hi. Whatever, hi guys. Whatcha been doing for the past 3 weeks? Anything good? I’ve been dating like a fiend. Bunch of Match.commers. And to be honest, I don’t even feel like talking about them. They don’t even deserve my ink. Text. Type. Fuck em. My sister and me, have been discussing it all, this dating shit…and we have come to a conclusion. Wanna hear it?

I need to get a thicker skin.

Yes, I do.

I need to grow a bigger set of balls if I’m going to survive dating in this Internet World. Chutzpah from the Hood just ain’t gonna cut it anymore, y’all! I”m going to need to really man-up, and grow a set. No more crying like a little bitch when I hear for the umpteenth time that I’ve been lied to AGAIN by the fucker that says he’s “off Match” when he’s not. Why do I care? Fuck him! I’m staying on, too! And no more whining like a wam-bulance when he says, “Oh, Jen…did you expect me to stop sleeping with other women?” No! I don’t care, loser! Fuck her, if you want. But you won’t be sleeping with me…EVER! This vagina is OFF LIMITS. But you won’t hear about it. I’m not going to even bring it up anymore. Nope, not me! I’m turning over a whole new “dating-leaf”.

It’s called, I’ll do what I want…when I want, and it’s none of your dang business.

No more crying. Or whining. Or bitching. And no more looking like a psycho when I’m only acting like any sane woman would act in this fucked up cyber-dating world. I mean, come on people! Be real.  Hey, I’m no saint. I actually accused a really great guy of lying, and hurt his feelings. Badly. He was exactly where he said he was, he was at work. He had to cancel a date, and I thought he was lying. Because I was burned so many fucking times…I didn’t trust him. And I lost a really, great thing. Fuck, I am embarrassed to admit it. I literally called him out. And he put me in my place. He told me we were done. And I knew I fucked up. He’s awesome, and deserves a killer chick. He’s geographically undesirable, yes. And he smokes, gross. But omg, he’s awesome. I will regret it for a long, long time. Dammit, Janet.

But hey, we have to learn from our mistakes, right? I have to trust again. I just have to. I’m jaded, sure, but there is a man out there that will prove me wrong. Shit, I hate Match, and Tinder. Bumble. I hate all of it. But unfortunately, as a single mom…where else am I going to  meet guys? It’s not like I have a chance to hit the bars, and I don’t work at Wells Fargo. I’m not asking guys out at Starbucks. I’m just not. This is the world we live in. I’m shit out of luck. Or hey, maybe I’m in luck? Maybe I will find a great guy on one of these sites…

Or maybe, I won’t. Hell, maybe I am destined to just run into him at Harris Teeter in the frozen food section. While I’m buying my Chubby Hubby Ben and Jerry’s. He will reach in, to get his. And I’ll reach in to get mine…and our hands will touch. And we will both be freezing our fucking asses off. Oh, how cute. And my nipples will be hard…and he will say, “I love your stiff…”

Jesus, I need to get laid. ;)

xo j

 

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