Outing Myself

January 24, 2014 — 120 Comments


A blog is a great place to hide what a


I am this week.

With my carefully constructed cyber facade you don’t get to see that I’m

Disoriented. Panicked. Anxious.

My hands are tingly; almost numb.

I’m making a whole lot of typos.

For once, I’m grateful for spellcheck. I normally never use it. I actually didn’t know it was even up there, until about a week ago.

Clueless. Yeah. I’m like that.


I was accused this week of being a liar.

Everyone who knows me knows that I suck at lying.

“Mom, what’s gay sex?”

“It’s when two men insert their penises in each other.”


“Wherever they can.”


I am, however, guilty of lying by omission.

What I present to you here is funny, cool, snarky, New York tough, great mom, wild Samara.

Sometimes I just SUCK.

Sometimes I’m close to CRAZY.

Sometimes I’m MEAN.


Let’s start with this “You’re such a great mother” thing.

This blog post my kid did. Yes, he was awesome.

But by 10:30 last night?  Two hours past his bedtime?

I was ready to beat him over the head with my laptop.

But since this is the yelling generation, not the hitting generation, I said,

“Dude, I’m exhausted.

He wanted to look for more kraken pictures.

He needed just the right kraken picture, because nothing is worse than a bad KRAKEN picture in a blog post.


“Mama, scroll back –


‘But there were –


“But I-”

“Seriously. GO the FUCK to sleep!”

Dropped an F bomb. BOOM.

Yeah. I’m like that.


We have a lot of fun. I am definitely a “fun” mom.

Just last week, I made him run around the car at a red light at a very busy intersection.


It’s not fun around here if he brings home a “B” on a test.

I don’t stick toothpicks under his fingernails, but I don’t say, “That’s great! Maybe you’ll get an “A next time.”

HELL no.

I say, “What did you get wrong? Let’s look at it right now.”

As in, right now.

This is called Tiger Mom-ing.

Yeah. I’m like that.


I once heard him tell his friend, “I like to do well in school so I can eventually compete in a global economy.”

He’s TEN.


I make my kid do homework all summer.

Yes, you read that sentence right.

He gets to have fun. Go to camp. Romp in the dirt, pick dingleberries out of his ass, collect farts in a jar – whatever it is boys his age do all day.

He also has to do homework. Every day. 30 minutes.

Because I’m the mom, and I say so. That line of reasoning.

Also, because there is a documented loss of retention in school age children over the summer months.

Even during the summer, we visit the library every week to take out books.

You know who’s in the library in August? Me, Little Dude, and 6 Chinese families.


It’s not just school work I torture him with.

I’m like that about everything.

He studies Tae Kwondo.

When he competes, I make sure he trains hard.

“Master B says, as long as we all have fun, we all win.”

I HATE that “everyone’s a winner/give everyone a trophy/ let’s just cut the balls off society” attitude.

“Oh really? Well, if winning isn’t the point, why don’t you all just hang out and spar at the dojo all day? Why even bother to compete?”

Once, at a competition they paired him with a kid who was several inches taller.

When the match began, my kid instinctively took 2 steps back.


Afterwards, I said, “Don’t you EVER back away from an opponent during a match. EVER.

When that match starts, the first thing your opponent should see is YOUR HEEL coming at HIS FACE. You got me?”

Yeah. I said that.


He brings home a trophy every time. But still.

Should I be saving for his college education? Or his therapy?


MY New York BFF said the Polar Vortex Collapse is responsible for a whole bunch of shitty things converging in a horrible way for me.

Sickness. Death. Financial problems. Huge domestic blow ups. Work related crises.

When everything falls apart at once, so do I.

I don’t do multiple crises well.

I can only hold it together to make a pretense of sanity for my kid.


I’m not sleeping.

I wish I drank or smoked weed. Perhaps that would take the edge off.

I don’t like alcohol. I get drunk off of 1/4 glass of wine.

Can you imagine me getting sloppy drunk, alone? That image would make a carefree person suicidal.

I’m not opposed to weed. It’s not a gateway to make me start banging dope.

But this urban dirt weed?

Forget it.

I used to know people from Northern CA. Near Humboldt County. Do you… know where I’m going with this?

They were purveyors of the Kind kind. If I could have THIS kind of clean, uplifting brain tingle, then perhaps.

But I’ll be damned if I’m going to call one of the cast members of The Jersey Shore to sell me some Swamp Grass.

So I can pollute my lungs with with paranoia-inducing chemicals, and reflect for hours upon all my conspiracy theories, convinced that the CIA is tapping my phone.

So, I just,



I had no patience for my students this week. A CRUCIAL week.

When a student didn’t know that “It was his 16th summer” meant he was 16 years old,

I rolled my eyes at her. A real visible hairy eyeball.

Yeah. I did that.

I wanted to tell her to forget going to college completely and suggest cosmetology school.

Except my hairdresser is very smart and that would have been an insult to her profession.

I almost suggested the pole. She’s very pretty.

I stopped short of that. I actually bit my upper lip so hard, it still hurts.

From 2 days ago.


Someone I know was recognized in a positive way this week. I’d felt wronged by him in the past.

And because I was hurting for a completely different person, who is suffering at the moment,

and because the two things HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH EACH OTHER,

except that they both dwell in MY head,

I bombarded the first person with horrible, scathing emails. Many of them.

Yeah. I did that.


My college BFF didn’t too so well on her first chemo. She’s supposed to have months of treatments.

She ended up in the hospital after her first.

I’m not sure why, but she didn’t call or text me. She posted on Facebook that she was in the hospital.

I don’t go on Facebook.

Facebook is a Whore.

I have a business to run. A child to tend do. Live people who I have to work in front of, every day, NOT a computer screen.

I can’t frolic and cavort on Facebook every day. If I could, I’d be on my company’s Facebook page.

Not my personal one. Which I haven’t been since 2011.

I don’t have time to gape at vacation albums; the cyber depiction of America’s Relationship with Credit.

Not my blogging one, which doesn’t exist, because of that pesky business/child thing.

My ex goes on Facebook. Of course he does! He texted me. “BFF is in the hospital.”

I was so freaked – and angry – at her for not letting me know.

Because it’s Samara’s World! And her cancer is all about ME, goddammit, me!!

Not about the fact that she may only be alive another 6 months.

I texted her, “What the FUCK is going on? You’re in the hospital? Why didn’t you text me? I don’t go on Facebook, how the FUCK am I supposed to know you’re in the hospital?

Yeah. I did that.

To my best friend with cancer.

I didn’t think about why she might have done it,

or even that, whatever she does, it has to be okay.

Because she’s probably dying.


What if, I died tomorrow, and this had been my last week on earth?

Holy Shit.

This would NOT be the way I want to go out.

It would be like, getting hit by a bus and dying just as you’ve been released from jail for stealing White Castle hamburgers.


Little Dude came over to practice his solo for temple tonight while I was writing this.

I had no idea what he was saying. I don’t know Hebrew.


Temple was a nice comfortable 55 degrees this evening. My vagina went numb.

Jews are nothing if not frugal.


I cried like a bitch, watching him up on the podium, cause in less than 3 years, he will be reading from the Torah.

And 5 years of Hebrew school and Friday night services will culminate in his Big Moment.

He led the Congregation on his page.


Was it a coincidence that his page from the prayer book was


and we read the English back to him:

“We thank you for implanting within us a deep need for each other, and for giving us a capacity to love and care.

May we always be grateful that we have one another and are able to express our love and acts of kindness.

Keep us gentle in our speech.

May we waste no opportunity to speak words of sympathy, of appreciation, of praise.”


Maybe, It was my reminder to pray tonight. To be a better person.

I’m so glad I get another chance.

To be

The person I can be. The friend I can be. The mom I can be.

Or maybe

It was a just nice to be somewhere where they serve a lot of cake.

We love cake.


Have you ever felt like you just screwed up really badly? With everything?

Talk to me.  I’m listening. 

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120 responses to Outing Myself


    Yes. All the time. Tonight. Drowning in bills without a dollar to my name, wondering what’s the point of it all. And I don’t have any weed. So basically, I get what you’re saying here.


    For a long time, I made screwing everything up my stock and trade. I would pick the fight, be the loudest, and make whatever I thought stick, goddammit. At the same time, I think the only people I was talking to were my bartenders.
    There were two things that did it for me The first was learning to care – not about anyone else, just myself.
    The second was realizing not every fight was important. Or even a fight. And then just learning to take a deep breath before saying anything.

    The deep breath gets to be second nature. And there’s a big difference between not being the best and not doing your best.
    You care, a lot. It’s a great ability to have.

    How are you at deep breaths?


    Every damn day, it feels like. Especially recently.

    I try to remember what Guap has posted here–he is smaht.


    Screwed up? Me?
    First answer: Of course not! I’m perfect.
    Second answer: All the time. Who doesn’t? None of us are perfect.

    Which answer do you think is the real one?

    Samara, we all have tough days and tough weeks. We all lash out. We all have regrets… and if there are people who don’t have regrets it’s because they aren’t living passionately enough. And, in a way, I feel sorry for them. Sure, we may make more mistakes, me may have to apologize more, but our highs will be higher because we live that much more vibrantly.

    I hope that makes sense. I’ve been up for too long today. I’ve been up for too long for 10 months now. Not sleeping? Yeah. I understand that. The days blur together. The minutes stretch on to eternity. And then there are moments of clarity where I have the presence to realize I’m messing everything up all over again.

    Don’t worry about perfection. Just be yourself… your friends know who you are and have already forgiven you for any transgressions, real or imagined.


      Matt, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your never ending friendship and support, but whatever it is, thank God.

      How do you always write the right thing?
      Yes, I do live life incredibly passionately, but I burn so brightly for myself and everyone that I BURN the FUCK out sometimes. I CRASH and burn.

      I have to find a middle ground.

      Once again, for the millionth time-
      Big bloggy love, coming at you.


        I do enjoy the big bloggy love. 😀

        Yep, crashing is part of it, unfortunately. And it sucks. I get it. I know. But, chin up, my friend, because you’ll be burning brightly again soon. The downs on this rollercoaster can seem pretty scary, but as long you know it’s a ride, hopefully that takes a bit of the edge off because you know you’ll be climbing back up soon.

        Us writers got to look out for each other. The stuff we have in our heads… Oh my, if we don’t… who knows what we would unleash on the world. 😉

        Have a great weekend.

        Go Team Marvel!!


        You mean, go Team DC!

        And between the extra 1000 points from possibly the youngest guest blogger ever,


        a rumor floating around the Kingdom that will surely decimate Team Marvel,

        methinks we have a winner!


        I’ve heard that rumor… and I think I will have to award Team DC copious points for that as well, sadly. But, I will stay staunch in my support of Marvel. Go Team Marvel. We will stand strong in the face of such overwhelming odds!! Never back down. Never surrender.


    You know what, we all have shitty moments or shitty days, weeks, whatevers. I’ve cursed at my kids like you did. Lots of times. You know what though? Kids aren’t total raving pussies. They can handle shit like mom or dad cursing at them, as long as it’s not out of control or whatever. Geez. You’ve got a lot going on it sounds like. No need to apologize for having a minor melt down.


      Hey, handsome-
      It wasn’t so minor, this week. More like MAJOR. How many weeks like that do I get before I have to admit I’m a crazy lady?

      My kid is 10. I don’t like telling him to “go the fuck to sleep.” I don’t know, it’s not my style. I’m the total pussy, not him.

      He’s a tough one. I’m raising him that way. To be tough. Because I believe it will serve him in life.

      thanks, DOAT. love ya.


    I’m just thinking about how much more perfect I am than anyone in here, including that Matticus fellow. It’s hard being perfect. It’s tough being good to the kids all the time, and never worrying that they might do something that bothers you, that makes you wonder. It’s hard never failing at work or in your personal life. It’s hard being me, S.

    Spring’s right around the corner. I hear there’s sunshine and ice cream. Wanna share?


    Hang in there and breathe, girl. That’s a lot o’ shit to deal with. Me, I’m not sleeping either. It’s 5am and I’m on no sleep. I may as well just get up and make coffee.

    I am so so sorry about your BFF. So fucking sorry. Cancer chemo…been through that with Mr. Weebs and the idea of him having to go through it again terrifies me.

    Why am I even telling you this? You don’t need to hear this.

    You sound like an amazing and enlightened mom. Fuck that whole “everyone’s a winner” mindset. Striving for mediocrity is not what you want your kid to do. Good for you.

    I would like cake too. And lots and lots and lots of Carvel ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. All the time. Unless there’s Chinese food. Then I want the Chinese first, followed by cake and Carvel. And also a Carvel cake with crunchies. Maybe Fudgie the Whale.

    Also, I laughed at the line “Wherever they can.” Well done.


      Part of me not sleeping is part of you not sleeping.

      And when I told you I needed to email you, it was because I’d read about Mr. Weebs and his chemo, and I needed help on how to survive loving someone fiercely through chemo. So, you can expect an email.

      I don’t know how amazing and enlightened I am as a mom. Sometimes I just suck.

      But we do love cake. Carvel ice cream. I’m not big on Chinese food, because MSG gives me acid flashbacks, but there’s always pizza.

      love you.


        Well, not sure if I’ll be able to help, and it’s a very painful subject for me, just as it is for you. But I’ll do what I can.


        By the way, I should have dedicated this post to you.

        Because this whole thing was inspired by the post you wrote about how we present ourselves online. And I fucking forget to mention that, and you, in the post,

        Yeah. I’m like that.


    Talk to me, Gorgeous…I’m listening


    Be gentle to yourself. I know this because this is my mantra as I like to put my size 11 Crimson Red Shitkickers on and wail on myself (or “out” myself), preferably in front of others to gain maximum shitkicker-ness satisfaction and then wonder why I am not sleeping well or walking around like I am wrapped up in cling-film. Mind and spirit muted, staring at the ceiling or my bloodied shoes kind of slogging. I get it because that was my whole life, rather than a week. And unlike you (oh lucky you!) booze *did* work for me in that regard…a little too well [glug glug]

    Be gentle to yourself. I wish I had that discipline and passion you have when it comes to getting the rugrat engaged and active. Left to my own devices, the boys would stay in all day while dad naps or hits the computer (“dinner? Peanut butter sandwiches and chocolate milk again! Yay!!!”) Vortex be damned, the wife gets them out and doing their homework too. And in summer too. Yeah, she does that.

    Be gentle to yourself. The perfect thing about being human in that we are imperfect. Hell yeah. That’s a painful lesson for an egomaniac with low-self esteem like me. But it works once you see that we are meant to bugger up. Your laundry list of transgressions only serves you how? Yup, you’re human. Check. Yup, you’re also funny when you list these. Check. You’re aware of these things…and that’s fantastic. Check. Now what?

    You got it. Be gentle to yourself. Little Dude isn’t walking around with a torn limb in his backpack. He’s resilient like they all are. He see Mama Dude having her moments. I have them with the boys. I feel terrible after, but I talk about it with them and let them know that when I put them to bed, they get big smooches and tickles and we’re good. A yell and a hug never killed anyone.

    And as for your friend – so sorry to hear that. We do tend to make it all about us, but what did I say about being human? We shift and stretch and grown and turn our perspective and put on a new pair of glasses and that all changes in a warm heartbeat. You be with that friend, you nourish what time is left with her, you show Little Dude how it’s done. And the rest…it all has blown in that Polar Vortex Wind, my friend. Done.



      I’m taking your comments and putting them together and publishing them as a book.

      Hope you don’t mind.

      Much love,


        Can you autograph it? Because it will need a real writer’s touch to it to count as a book. 🙂

        It about ego strippin’, not ego trippin’ !

        You are much too generous with your words, my friend.

        Cheery Saturday, yo.


    It seems we’re all on edge these days. It’s the norm. But, in my perfectionist mind, I look back at the mistakes I’ve made and try to learn from them, even the breakdowns. Nothing wrong with trying to better yourself. I berate myself daily. But, I know I don’t mean it as bad as it may come out. It’s all for my own benefit. Let it out. You’d be surprised at the results.


      2013 was so Godawful, I had high hopes for 2014.

      But it doesn’t seem to have started on the right foot.

      Deep breath. Start over. Lather, rinse, repeat.

      Thanks for the support. It means so much to me.


    I’ll trade stories with you if you want. My current autobiography title is, “A Series of Unfortunate Clusterfucks…Which Were Totally Preventable.”


      Okay, mine is:

      “I Probably Could Have Been a Successful Writer If I Hadn’t Fucked My Life Up So Now I’m Living Vicariously Through My Child and Probably Giving Him Permanent Heebie Jeebies”

      whatever those are



        Divorced twice.
        Sucks at all relationships (including friendships)
        Idiotic decision after idiotic decision
        And eating spicy food while drunk

        And I think I’ll stop there. Samara, none of us are perfect. Do you have faults? Sure. We all do. That you recognize them is one step in the right direction. Now that you’ve identified them you can work on correcting them.

        As you told your son not to ever take a step back I’m now telling you…Do not back up. You still have plenty of time to become a successful writer. Don’t make me come kick your ass. Motivationally speaking, of course.



        STOP RIGHT THERE!!!!!!!

        You have dedicated more time and effort to our cyber burgeoning friendship than some of my real friends.
        So SHUT UP.

        Before I come kick YOUR ass. For REAL.


        Give me time and you’ll see…and I can provide examples…if needed.

        However, don’t ignore the rest of what I said.


        TD, really, just stop.

        I’ve seen how kind and compassionate you are to so many people on WP, and I know it’s not an act.

        You’re beating yourself up as badly as I am, and it sucks to see you do that. Please cut it out. You’re an incredible human being, and lots of people feel that way, so it has to be true.


        Fine…I’ll stop if you do then. Deal?


        I’ve got $20 on Samara.
        Sorry, TD.


        You never cease to amaze me.

        Always there. Always supportive. Always funny.

        And that damn kraken picture!! How IRONIC is that???


    “You know who’s in the library in August? Me, Little Dude, and 6 Chinese families.” ROFL! This line killed it, ladyfriend. Hilarious. (And a little irreverent. But irreverence is good.)

    I’m a mommy blogger. I lie by omission 90% of the time too. Even the horror stories I share with the world are chosen extremely carefully; like, I want to make sure that when I admit that my kid is currently watching TV and standing 9 inches away from the screen, I do it on a morning when I know no one is going to be online. I’m not saying that it’s OK to lie about real life just because everyone else is doing it too, but it *is* cathartic and it does help me out the things I dislike about myself and give me a jumping off point towards improving them. So now excuse me while I move the girl so that she’s only 10 inches away from the TV…


      Emily, you write so beautifully. I want to be able to write about my son the way you write about your daughter.

      That line about the library wasn’t meant to be irreverent.

      That line is TRUTH. I work in education. Asian countries are KICKING our ass academically because of what is culturally instilled about academics. The US in 31st in tests on critical thinking, but that’s a whole other thing…

      Is 9 inches away from theTV a bad thing?

      When my son turned 1, we threw a big FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY

      For US. Because he was STILL ALIVE.


        Oh girl, I totally know. I taught in Korea for two years and I had eight-year-olds who knew more about US foreign policy than my husband and I did combined, and they told us about it in English. Don’t think it hasn’t crossed or minds to move back with the girl in tow. 😉 Plus, kimchi is just so good.


        See what you did there??

        You just made me laugh out loud, and considering the week I’ve had, that is something.

        I’m going to work on getting to know you even better. Don’t be surprised if I start sending you doses of big bloggy love,

        Yeah, I’m like that.


        Don’t be too nice to me or I’ll start sending you bags of coffee beans. I’m known to do that sometimes ;D


        Why hello there! Nice to see you! Are you comfy? Can I get you anything? A snuggie? Perhaps a loofah?

        *sets up coffee mug in anticipation*


        Your prizes are way overdue, Guap.


        Emily, is there a blog award we can invent for Guap’s blogging support?

        I’m not good with graphics. And this goes way beyond versatile, or sunshine.
        Or “Blogger of the Year.” WAY BEYOND THAT.

        Maybe we can bring Rara in on this. I’m so not kidding. This guy gives of himself in ways I can’t even process.


        *teeters from overbalancing big head*


    umm… If I don’t use the spell check, I type like I have mental issues… I mean… even more mental issues… and I want to meet your kid… but don’t make him run around in traffic…


      When I was a teenager, we’d do this thing. A “Chinese fire drill.” I didn’t want to call it that, cause I’d already referenced the Asian culture in my post.

      My kid wanted to know why it was so fun. It didn’t translate in words. So, we did it. Did you do those?


    Parenting seems to just be one screw up after another at times. There are some days when it is absolutely shocking that anything goes right.


    Bit better today, S? You have some awesome friends, by the way. Just look at these comments…


      Better now that this shitty week is over.

      WordPress is filled with awesome people. I’m a lucky gal!


        Yes, you are. Many many people genuinely like you (including me).

        I owe you a cake.


        I love to bake, and my favorite thing to do is to bake for people I love.

        Would cake make it through customs?


        I’m pretty sure it’d be okay. We’re all one happy North American familly, after all.

        You bake, do you? I can’t get the hang. But I’m a pro cook (it runs in the family with some career types), I’ve cooked for like a hundred people at a time. Always drunk, though. I can’t cook for large groups without a couple of bottles of wine to myself… there could be a problem here.


        Cooking you can do drunk.

        Not baking. It requires complete precision. Exact measurements. It’s all about chemical reaction, and if one tiny thing is off, it’s not going to be quite right.

        I love it.

        All my best friends drunk-cook. The food is always divine.


        Sigh. I think that’s my problem. I like to freewheel when cooking, and baking is just so technical… And you can’t drink… that’s a double whammy. Well I’m going to go back to my wine and help Art hit his maniac comment goal… it’s a long haul, that’s for sure.

        You have something else planned for us next week, I hope? I’m going to hack out some words tonight, I think.


        Oh, yay!!!!

        Trent Lewin in my reader- just doesn’t happen enough.


        S, if I can write twice a week, I’m ridiculously lucky. I may write up the rules for being a crappy blogger. Number one: hardly ever post.


    Girl, if you’re mean, I’m Adolf Titler.


    You’re like the evil Sensi from The Karate Kid. Sometimes, it IS just fun to compete. Are you projecting just a bit?

    I can’t drink worth a damn, either. I get lit on a small amount of hooch. Every girl I ever dated drank me under the table. Do you know how embarrassing that is? All a guy ever wants to hear from a date is a drunken, slurred, “Take me now.” What I often heard was, “You’re not drunk already, are you?” Yes. Yes, I was.

    Stay away from Facebook. You’re better off. It’s the devil’s playground. But you already know this.

    You are one of the most evolved and self-aware people I’ve met in a long, long time. Many people never get there. But you did.


      I AM the evil Sensi from Karate Kid. Hopefully, some day, my son will dress up like a skeleton and chase kids around a cemetery.

      Drunken, slurred “take me now?” I’ll keep that in mind for when I start dating.

      Why is your blog still not showing up in my Reader? Please explain.


        As I type this, Rara is working to import my blog from a self-hosted .org site over to a proper WP.com site. When that’s complete, following should be as easy as a mouse click. We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.


        Ha! It’s a set up.

        (He likes making us click refresh all the time to see what’s going on on his page.)


        No really! I’m sick to death of getting “how do I follow your stupid blog” emails. Self-hosting is a train wreck and a waste. I only PRAY the good Dr. Rara can cure what ails my site.


        Dr. Rara cures many ailments.

        If you’re an East Coast insomniac – she will pull cyber all nighters with you.

        Because she’s on West Coast time – and sleeps like one hour a night! Maybe 2!


        You once gave me instructions on what I should do, but the option you gave me didn’t appear.

        Rara is awesome at that kind of stuff – if anyone can help you, it’s Queen Creative.


        I threw myself at her mercy. I’m saying a novena and lighting votive candles that it all works out.


    Aawww, Samara. Behind every great kid is a mom who’s pretty sure she’s screwing up. Little Dude rocks! “When my son turned 1, we threw a big FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY
    For US. Because he was STILL ALIVE.” Love it! My kids are in their 20’s now and it still amazes me that they survived into adulthood relatively unscathed. So you’re not alone in that. The constant stress of living life gets to everyone now and again. Some days you just can’t shit butterflies and pee rainbows. Like Guap said, take a deep breath and carry on. There’s always tomorrow.


      “Shit butterflies and pee rainbows” – that’s a good one!

      I’d settle for being a halfway decent human being, no matter how bad things get.

      Grace under pressure. Yes.

      Thanks for the support!


    Whenever I feel like I’ve screwed everything up, which happens a lot when you have dysthymia, I go to jak or one of my kids and ask for a hug, like a little forlorn child. It’s either that or eat something junky and sweet.


    Yup – screwed up today, actually. I can be really hard on myself when that happens – am learning not to be, to just take what I need to learn from it and move on. 🙂


    Almost every day I feel like I am doing something wrong…


    Come visit, eh? I mean as in virtual space. Blog space. Please come see our lovely mess. Or at least Cimmy’s. She could use some blog lovin’ today.


    I read the whole thing looking for the moment where you screwed up. I was hoping for something glorious. But a real-life moment with a girlfriend who probably was ecstatic that for one fabulous moment she didn’t have to worry about beeps and doctors and could focus on her still-crazy-loveable bff? That’s beautiful. And a mom who cares about her little one, even allowing him to live his loves with passion while still trying to make sure he can compete in a global market? A honest mother who he knows he can go to? That’s beautiful, too.

    You’re a beautiful lady, Samara– inside and out– and any mistakes you might make are more than offset by your friendship, motherhood, and humanity. No more forgetting that, okay? 🙂


      Tell that to the guy I pelted with scathing emails.

      No, really, I hear you Rara. And I love you for loving me, and my heart, beyond all my fuck ups.

      You’re my role model. I want to be like you.


        I’m pretty anti-scatching-emails, but I know he hurt you, so I sorta want to send him some scathing emails myself. Maybe we can use yours & Sheena’s invisibility mode and just make him disappear? Not in a mob way, more in a geek-invisibility-cape way… 🙂


    I’m kind of ashamed that I don’t feel like a screw-up. Well, not for years, at least. And I think that for this I have to thank my parents, who pushed me very hard to do my homework, go to library, read books, do extracurricular activities, etc…. you know, kind of what you do with the Little One. 🙂


    Amazing post. I came here to express gratitude for your reading my post and commenting, and also to do some reading here today. I’m so glad I did. Thanks for getting me and allowing us to get you.



      Yes. I’m working on that one, Ann. I’m snarky and bad ass and edgy and all that.

      But this week, it’s gratitude. And being a higher version of myself.



    If you never screw up, you probably aren’t taking enough chances in life. In regard to kids, I think it’s important for them to see you get it wrong with a decision, response or approach. The lesson isn’t in the mistake but how you handle it. Kids who grow up learning how to handle mistakes, correct them and how to apologize when they can’t are infinitely more grounded and prepared for life. It’s the kids who never see those moments in their parents, and who never experience it for themselves, are doomed to a life of disappointment. Cheers to you for being real.


      I love that comment.

      I hope so, Ned. I feel the same way – it’s how I handled this week. I really want to learn from it. Otherwise, I was just a shitty person. For no reason.

      That can’t be right, can it?


        Keeping in mind I’m unaware of the details of “the drama,” and judging from the way in which you write, I’d have to take a guess that “shitty person” isn’t really an option.

        In short: all you can do is handle things to the best of your ability and learn from the results. As long as your intentions are good, the result will be as it should be.

        But ice cream never hurts.


    I love tiger momming!


    1. Facebook is not a whore. Facebook is the skeevy, slick-haired pimp that makes America it’s whore. And America is sooooo happy to do it, because family photos.

    2. Who was it that said, “Jews don’t have hell. We have acid reflux”?

    3. Funniest Jewish movie ever is “Used People,” with Shirley MacLaine, Kathy Bates, and Jessica Tandy, among many others. It’s an honest depiction of 1960s life in Queens, New York, for a widowed Jewish housewife with the usual gaggle of characters clamoring around her codependently, which I hear is tradition. She is suddenly wooed by an Italian who ignores convention and fierce social prejudice to win her. The acting is amazing, the story spot-on, and the humor will make you laugh so hard you pee a little. Your kid can watch it without needing therapy afterwards. Probably. If Netflix doesn’t have it, they are a big booger.

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