new boyfriend



He’s finally gone.

I have my life back.

Here one weekend, there the next.

The packing, the flying…

imagesThe constant goodbyes.

Do you know how hard it is to date long distance?

Not that I’m complaining. Ok, I am totally complaining. I’m bitching. As usual…I am yapping, and bitching…and complaining about the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have my nerve. My god to meet. I have met this amazing guy, and I here I am…crabbing about our situation.  Shit. What is wrong with me? I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I am sad. That’s right, you heard me, I am sad. He just left an hour ago, and my heart hurts. Sappy, I know. I mean we just spent an entire weekend together, like every fucking second. No space. No alone time. I couldn’t even take a crap by myself. But I loved it. Every single second of it. And now, he’s gone. And I’m back to my solo life, per usual. Which really isn’t that bad. I kinda dig it. Its good having my own time, to do my own thing. I guess. I like me. And my thing.

But when you finally find the person you want to spend your alone time with, shouldn’t you just be able to be with them? 

Why can’t it be our life, ya know…together? Like, in the same city! Or the same STATE for the love of all things holy. I would take that. Just the same State. “Geographically Undesirable” sucks the big one. And today, when it started to sleet…I was hoping, his flight would be cancelled. I pretended I wanted him be able to leave. Ya know, “Oh honey! I hope your flight gets out. I know you have to be at the office tomorrow!” But on the inside, I was dying. I wanted the Charlotte Winter Storm of 2015 to keep him here for all eternity! Form of an Ice City! ha. Get it? Mother Nature, do your thing! Ugh. I just want him here forever. Boo hoo. I know. Cry me a river. I’m obviously getting my period, ok? I wish I could have found the perfect guy in Charlotte. But I didn’t. I found him in D.C., and he is pretty dang perfect. He’s reading this, and laughing. And shaking his head. But he is, kinda close to perfection. Except for his location. Duh. And his love of the word, “moist”.

So, for now, or maybe forever…we will do this “long distance thing” until we just can’t do it anymore. We will plan little get-aways. We will make the most our time together. We won’t take it for granted, or fight. We will spend as much time as we can in bed, having amazing, mind-blowing sex. Yes. That’s it! Isn’t that just totally realistic? I mean, come on…isn’t that exactly how every long distance relationship is? It’s just like a fucking honeymoon every time you’re together?! OMG! NO! It’s not. Let’s just be real here, and tell it like it is! This thing is hard! We are not always as happy as pigs in shit. And we do fight. Mostly because I miss him. Shit. We miss each other horribly. I can’t talk to him every time I need him. We can’t kiss. We can’t touch. Or talk in person. We have to text, and hope what we are trying to say isn’t lost in translation. Our emotions lost in cyber-world. I can’t just swing over to his place for a quick hug when I’m having a shitty day. Fuck. It totally sucks. And when he’s here, my life stops for him. And when I’m in DC, his life stops for me. We are “guests” in each other’s lives. He’s meeting my friends, and still hasn’t even met Tammy! Or Sue. OMG! He hasn’t met Tammy!!! My best friend. And I haven’t met his best friends….or family. It’s just so hard. The logistics of everyday life.

But it’s so easy, too. So comfortable. So right. We just fit. He gets me, and knows me. And understands me. And still wants me. I love it. Ha. He still digs me. Wowza. And our time together is precious. We make a good team. We have a wicked connection. This can work, we just need to keep doing what we’re doing. Concentrating on the positive, and looking forward to the next time we will be together. I can do this! We can do it. So, whether he is in Charlotte, or D.C…or Timbuktu, I’m staying put. Well, you know what I mean. I’m staying put, with him. He is stuck with me!

I’m not going anywhere. And actually, I’m hoping I can convince this close-to-perfect-Jewish boy from DC, that he would do just fine here in Charlotte! I mean, wouldn’t that just be hilarious? Come on down, Mr. Big-ish…you’re the next contestant on The Truth Hurvitz! ha. ;) 


xo j

Do you know how hard it is to be this happy, and not be able to tell you why?


It’s like torture.


The fucking worst.

Especially for a chick like me.

I mean, let’s be real…cause I am all about keeping it real. I have ummm, well…I have like the biggest mouth on the planet. Duh. I mean, do I not write this blog? Do I not spill my guts three times a week for 20,000 people to read? Shit. I have no filters. I tell everyone everything about me. ME. Let me just say that upfront. I don’t share other people’s crap. I really don’t. I’m like a vault. Really! I can keep a secret for a lifetime! Seriously, I take shit to the grave….I do!! Waterboard me. Do it. I won’t break. What, too soon? Well, when it’s about me, my life…I am an open book.  I mean all ya’ll know what my vagina looks like, for crying out loud. When I go on hot dates. When I have sex. You even know when I get my flippin’ period. We are close. Really, close. I feel like we are besties. We should all have BFF necklaces. OMG. That is the best idea ever. I’m going to make The Truth Hurvitzbracelets! Yes. Like the “What Would Jesus Do“, but What Would HURVITZ Do!! WWHD! haha. omg. I am dying over here. I am so dumb. I’m sitting in Sbux, totally doing that out-loud-laughing thing. And all the people are looking at me like I am on something. But, could you just die? WWHD. I love it. My blog-buddy Rachel Silver Cohen, she has tank tops. She is ridiculously talented. And she’s into all that yoga-shit, so tanks are a perfect choice for her. But me, I need to do shiny-lip glosses, or vibrators. The Truth Hurvitz vibrators! If you are the 100,000th reader, you get a free Truth Hurvitz Vibrator! Whoop Whoop! Well, maybe not. WWHD bracelets it is! yes. And if you want a kick-ass tank top…go check out Rachel’s blog. go. Silver Unpolished. It’s fab! And she’s hot. Just sayin’.

So, anyways, not being able to share all the great stuff that’s happening in my life is just killing me. I need to be cryptic. And mysterious. Give you hints. And clues. In hope that you can just read between the lines. Feel the happy radiating from the screen! Pick up the vibe I’m laying down! Yes, I just said that. I am 42, and Jewish.  I sometimes wish I was 25, and a Fly Girl. Dammit, a girl can dream. Have you seen me throw? Stop. Hurvitz-time. But can you pick it up? The vibe, y’all.  I mean, COME ON, you guys!!  I am writing with a little skip in my text. Right? Fuck. You don’t get it do you? Do I have to spell it out? I feel like a teenager, with a new crush. I wanna sing into my hairbrush, and dance to Fergie! I AM JUST FLAT-OUT LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE!!! You know what I’m trying to say, right?

I have to tell you. I’m going to do it. I can’t hold back for one more second. I hate when people do this shit to me. They act like their “news” is such a big fucking deal. SO much more important than everyone else’s.  Like their news is bigger, or better….juicer. More exciting. And then they hype it all up. Drag it all out…go on, and on…and on about it. Play 20 questions. Make you guess what it is. “Ok, if you guess what it is, then I’ll tell you if you’re right.” What a crock of shit. What if I did that to you guys? How rude would that be? I’m sure half of you have already jumped to the end of this entry to see what the “big announcement” is anyways. Ya know, the same people that read the last chapter of a novel before you even start it.  Just in case you die. I get it. And I actually do that. In case I kick it. Is that normal? Yeesh. So, I’m just going to tell you why I’m so happy. Ready? go.

I am in a new relationship. YYYYEEAAAAHHHH!!!! 

I have a new thing going. And it’s making my heart race. And flutter. I can’t breathe. I check my phone like 20 times an hour. I love it. And it takes my mind off of everything else. It’s not new, but we just met. And so far….we are getting along just swimmingly! I just wish I knew how to work the parts a little better. A little confusing, and frustrating at times. I can’t seem to figure some of it’s shit out! But it’s the COOLEST thing, in the world!  I can’t even believe what’s going on…have all y’all used this Twitter thing? It’s like the best. I had 250 followers yesterday, and today I have almost 420! And Tim Hortons is following me! Tim Hortons! haha. I am being followed. Stalked. Do you know how good it feels to be wanted? I’m wanted by 420 followers. Why, I have no clue. But who gives a shit! They are tweeting, and twitting…and twatting ME! It’s an instant rush, an addiction. I’m trying to get as many of these stalkers, I mean followers…as I can. I get “favorited”, and they “retweet” what I tweet. I am in heaven. This new relationship is for the birds. But I have never been happier. Tweet. Tweet. Tweet. Yay…so thank you, Followers, for following me. I feel loved. And a tad bit weirded out.

Twitter + Hurvitz = #truelove #loveatfirstsight #twitterific @thetruthhurvitz  

Oh, my bad. Did I lead you on? Did y’all think I was in a relationship-relationship? ooohhhhhh!!! I am so sorry. That was kinda shitty. I didn’t mean to imply that I was in love. Or that I had a boyfriend. Shit. But I am. I’m such a tease. ha. I am totally, and completely in love. And in lust. I’m happy. And it’s not just from the tweeting. Although, the Twitter is giving me pleasure, my new man giving much, much more. Yum. I think I might have found my Mr. Big-ish. But for now, I’m going to keep him all to myself. All mine, dammit.  See, the last time I fell “in love”, or at least thought I did… I shared the guy with my blog-world. And it was fine. But this time, no can do. Well I can do, and I will do…my Mr. Big-ish. But all y’all will just have to use your vivid imaginations. Gross. Go think about someone else doing it! Stay out of my bedroom. I am going to be keeping my private life, well…private. I’m going to try to keep it private. Let me at least give it a shot, ok?!

You all know, I won’t be able to keep quiet for long, and I’ll end up letting you into our “world” every now and then.  To fill you in on any life-altering events. I mean, it’s close to impossible not to put it on a blimp! Or write it in the sky. Or use one of those ticker-thingys at a sporting event. Listen, go big, or GO HOME!  I simply adore this guy. And I’m pretty dang sure he digs me, too. I guess it’s a good idea to read the last chapter of the book first, huh? It’s actually where the GOOD stuff happens. The “Happily Ever Afters”, and the happy endings. Ok, ok…get your minds out of the gutter. And I’m sorry for being such a tease. I just had to do it! Now that is hilarious. Me…a tease? Priceless.

So, are we all on the same page now? I know I feel much better, now that my secret is out. It’s a new year, filled with new adventures…and new doors to open. Care to come along for the ride? Jump on, but you’ll need a ticket. Or a bracelet! Coming soon…WWHD. Or, if you would prefer a Truth Hurvitz Vibrator…send me a tweet. #PlayWithHurvitz ;)

xo j


It’s just too easy. The title for my blog today. lol. Duh.

Who’s your Daddy? Or your Baby’s Daddy…that is? 

Well, there is no question. Your daddy is your daddy. The guy who raised you. The guy who was there when you were born…brought you into this world. The guy who watched you take your first breath. You get it, the dude that gave your Baby, his Daddy! They share the same last name, and maybe a trait or two. The same one that is worried that he’s going to lose you in the divorce. And miss you when you’re with your Mom. Ok? The one that is sitting there, watching you totally dig the new boyfriend, while secretly hating him. And wishing he was a total loser, when he’s not. The “new man” is probably great, and nice…maybe everything you aren’t. Which is fine. Crap. I’m really sorry, but don’t you want your ex to be happy? She deserves to be in a good place, right? If she moves on, the kids will be good…everyone is thrilled! You might even get out of your alimony sooner if she gets hitched! ha.

Yeesh. The kids talk about him like he’s a new toy. What does he have that you don’t have, Dad? 

As a Mom, you pray for the new chic to be a good mom. And nice, and blah…blah blah, right? But as the Dad, do you really want the new guy to be all that and a bag of chips? Do you want him to be better at throwing a football, or funnier? Tell better jokes, or make more money? What if he is cooler, or has a really neat job… or carries a loaded weapon, or rides a motorcycle? OMG!! Can it get any worse than that? Sure. The new dude could be a brain surgeon, or a movie star. Or have a bigger dick. That would be worse. But this is about parenting. Not the bedroom. This is all about replacing YOU, daddy-O! I mean c’mon! This new guy never punishes them, or yells. He gives them pop with caffeine, and candy…and never says no. He is like the fun-Uncle. He is super nice to their Mom because he’s on his best behavior, and he wants to “make nice”. Of course they love him. It’s a no-brainier. For now….

But listen up, Daddies…and listen closely. No one will ever take the place of you in your kid’s life. Never, not ever. No siree-bob. No matter what. Not a chance. You are the one they love, and trust. And YOU are the one they feel safe with, and comfortable. No matter what the new guy does, or says….they will always come back to you. The guy with the same last name, and the same bad habits, and same DNA. You get my point. Divorce is a crazy, silly and complicated thing. But even I know, there is no chance on God’s Green Earth, that anyone could ever take the place of a father in their child’s life. Hold on to that, the next time you hear your kid talking about how “kick-ass” the new guy is. Just swallow, and breathe…and know that you are the one that they want.

So, Happy Father’s Day to both of the men in my life. Two of the BEST dad’s I’ve ever known. Both of which have amazing children, and are so good at what they do….being dads. And do you know how I know? They both have the strongest relationships with their kiddos. Sigh. Which is why I kinda know how to pick ’em, dontcha think? I have pretty great taste in men, if I do say so myself. And let’s just hope that I used all the right their, there’s and they’re today. Phew! ;)

xo j

“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

 Clarence Budington Kelland