The Sonia Show

Oh hi. One of my best friends and my podcasting sister from another mister, Margo Donohue, passed away unexpectedly in late July.

I first heard Margo on the podcast F This Movie in 2017. She was talking about “My Best Friend’s Wedding” with host Patrick Bromley, and I was thinking, “This chick fuckin’ gets it!” So I tweeted to her, “You fuckin’ get it” with this gif.

She replied and followed me back on social media. Occasionally, we would tweet to each other about something. At the time, I was cohosting Dorking Out with my friend Smith. When he left the show, I asked Margo if she’d like to come on as a guest. We had such a great time that it became a regular thing, and eventually she joined the show as the permanent cohost.

AND THEN, Margo came up with the brilliant idea of What a Creep, which was initially titled, “Seriously, Fuck That Guy.” She asked me if I’d be down to cohost a second podcast with her, and I replied, “Fuckin’ duh.”

I learned so much about podcasting from Margo. I don’t think I’m as good at it as she was, and I know she would call me out for even saying that here. But I know it’s true. From the first moment we recorded together, we had a natural rapport. We loved chatting and making each other laugh. There are countless times that Margo made me laugh so hard I was crying, and she would have to edit it out of the show because it went on too long.

While working on these podcasts, we built a genuine friendship that was so special to me. Over the past 8 years, we went through a lot of shit together. She lost family members. I got divorced. There was a pandemic (remember that?!). And through it all, we supported each other. I always had her back, and she had mine. We zooooomed multiple times a week. We texted every day.

We met up IRL in Brooklyn. We met each other “halfway” in Chicago. We met up again in Brooklyn, and that time I brought Calvin. He’s obsessed with New York, and he loved Margo.

Calvin asked me once, “When I grow up and move to New York, will Margo be my friend there, too?”

When I told Margo that he asked that question, she teared up and said, “I hope you told him I’m his friend now.” And she was his friend. She always sent him the sweetest subway-themed gifts for no reason at all.

Even though she was in Brooklyn and I’m in San Francisco, she never felt far away. Until she didn’t show up to our recording time, and I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t get to her. I felt so helpless. That’s when she felt far away.

I’ve put off writing about her. Probably because I was in somewhat of a denial stage. Obviously, I knew that she was gone. Logically, I knew that. But my mind kept thinking there was something I could do or say that would fix this. If I could just figure out the right thing to do or say, she’ll be here, and everything will go back to normal. She’ll magically reply to my texts about “Below Deck” and appear in my Zooms to record our podcasts.

But that’s not going to happen. She’s gone. I can’t fix that. And that’s grief. It’s not going away, but eventually it will just feel different than it does right now. But it will always suck.

I’m not in denial anymore. I’m in my anger stage. Now, when I read the news, I get angrier than usual. Why is the Predator-in-Chief still alive, and my friend isn’t? That shit is not fair. All of these garbage, shitty, hateful people are just walking around breathing our air and using our precious resources, and my friend isn’t. What the actual fuck?!

I know this feeling will pass, too, and I’ll go back to my usual level of anger about the state of the world. But right now, it feels heavier than usual. It’s heavier because my cohort in creepitude isn’t here to help me carry it.

I fuckin’ hate that she’s not here. Her new book, “Fever: The Complete History of Saturday Night Fever,” is coming out on August 26, and she’s not going to be here for it. We talked about getting together in Los Angeles for a promotional stop on her book tour. Maybe I’d host a conversation with her at a bookstore, then she’d sign a ton o’ books, and then we’d go to Disneyland (I think it’s more likely, we would’ve sat in a hotel room and watch a bunch of shows on Bravo together).

I’m heartbroken. But I also know the shows must go on. I know for a fact Margo would want that. I’ll bring on some guest hosts, and eventually, I’ll find a new rhythm. I’ll figure out how to do it without her. The shows will be different, but hopefully they’ll still be good.

The fanbase we built for Dorking Out and What a Creep meant a lot to us. We felt (and I still feel) a responsibility to give y’all something when you listen. That something could be community. Maybe you feel less alone when you listen. Maybe that something is connection. Maybe it’s distraction from hard things. Maybe we’re keeping you company while doing chores, running errands, or commuting. Whatever that something is, we were proud to give it you. I’m still proud. And hopefully, each new episode will make her proud.

Thank you, Margo, for going on a podcasting journey with me. And thank you for all the fun we had along the way. You were an amazing friend. You are very loved. You are very missed.

Yeah, so, I jumped on the “Vanderpump Rules” bandwagon after #Scandoval happened.

For those who don’t watch VPR, you’re missing out on some primo Bravo. “Vanderpump Rules” stars Tom Sandoval and Ariana Madix were in a relationship for 10 years. They bought a house together, and it appears they were planning a future together. THEN, it turns out that Sandoval had been having an affair with one of Ariana’s best friends for at least 7 months. A very heated, very public breakup occurred while the cameras were rolling, which brought in millions of new viewers (like me).

Several friends mentioned VPR to me when this happened because they knew I could relate to what was happening to Ariana. They thought I might find it therapeutic to watch the show and see all the hate for Sandoval online. They were correct. Good times.

The latest season has started, and it’s picking up 3 months after the breakup. Sandoval and Ariana are still living in the same house because neither of them wants to give it up. Tom wants to buy her out of the house, but she doesn’t want him to have it, and he shouldn’t have the house because seriously, fuck that guy. It’s a very “War of the Roses” situation.

During every episode, most of the cast talks about how this breakup impacts themselves, how they need to work on their friendship with Tom, and how much they miss their friendship with Tom. Umm, do they need to work on that? Maybe he’s the one that needs to do work. They could say, “Wow! I saw how he treats people that he supposedly cares about, and I don’t want that in my life.” But maybe they’re thinking, “Well, I have to work with this person, so …”

No one in the cast other than Katie knows how to handle it when Ariana expresses anger about or toward Tom. Obviously, she’s allowed to be sad about the breakup and cry, but if she gets angry, almost everyone is like, “She needs to calm down,” or “She needs to forgive and forget.”

Umm, it’s been 3 MONTHS!

I don’t think a lot of people know what it’s like to have your world completely blown up one day. One minute, you’re in a decade-long relationship, and the next you’re finding out your person has been cheating, and maybe you don’t know this person at all. It’s traumatizing. Give the lady some fuckin’ grace and space while she deals with this shit. Damn.

Annnnnd, along with all the “She should just forgive and forget,” there are little nuggets like this:

If you didn’t watch the video, allow me to summarize: “Tom cheating on Ariana is the best thing that ever happened to her, because look at all the success and money she’s received since it happened.”

Y’all, Ariana’s broken heart and having her world turned upside down after her partner of 10 years cheated on her is not the best thing to happen to her.

Sure, she’s got “Dancing with the Stars,” commercial deals, and a run on Broadway in “Chicago,” but at the expense of her heart and the trauma of what happened. It’s not the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

When people say things like, “This breakup is the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” I think they’re trying to say, “Look how awesome you handled a shitty situation and you’re better for it.” It might come from a good “You’re winning the breakup” place, but it comes out as your trauma wasn’t really that traumatic. This sentiment is usually paired with the ever-popular “you should take the high road” speech (personally, I think the high road can get fucked), and it’s time for you to forgive so you can move on. Meh. You can move on without forgiving and/or forgetting.

I had to deal with almost exactly the same thing as Ariana, except we were married and there’s a child involved. And I have become more successful since my divorce. I moved up in my career. I’m not sure if that would’ve happened if I was still married. Honestly, I was always more focused on helping him do well in his career than mine. After he was gone, I focused on my career. Shit, this might be the first time I referred to it as a “career” and not just “my job” or “my current gig.”

So, yeah, I’m doing awesome in my career. The podcasts are doing well. I’ve traveled more. I feel like I have a closer relationship with Calvin than I did before. I redecorated the house. I’m happy. I’m really happy. But guess what? My partner cheating on me and getting a divorce was not the best thing to ever happen to me just because I’m happy now.

I know. It’s weird. It’s a weird feeling, and it’s kinda difficult to explain, but I’m going to try. I have a peace now that I wouldn’t have had before, but dealing with betrayal, a broken heart, and trauma to get there … It’s not the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Back to Ariana … The best thing that could’ve happened to Ariana is they both realized that the relationship wasn’t what they wanted anymore, and they broke up. Then she takes all that energy she put into Tom and their relationship and pours it into herself and her goals. Then she gets “Dancing with the Stars,” Broadway roles, and commercial deals as a result. That would be the best thing that ever happened. Not trauma and a broken heart.

OR, they could’ve gone to couples therapy, worked on their relationship so it serves them both, and THEN she takes all that energy and pours it into herself and her goals, etc etc. I think you’re picking up what I’m putting down.

A better way for Ariana’s “friends” to talk about her on the show would be: “I’m so proud of my friend. Something really shitty and traumatizing happened to her, and she’s made the best out of a bad situation. After everything that happened, she’s putting herself out there and doing a lot of new things that are really working out for her. How cool is that?”

Yeah, so, I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through this election year with my sanity intact.

Election years always suck. The rhetoric gets turned up to 11. People are so angry and hateful. I feel it. It’s everywhere when I’m online. It’s everywhere when I leave the house.

It’s going to be tough. Real tough.

This election shouldn’t even be close. Donald Trump is a bad person. There’s nothing good or admirable about him. Trump doesn’t care about America or Americans. He’s just about money, power, and staying out of prison.

And while Biden isn’t my favorite (he’s an old white man who isn’t doing anything about genocide and also, hey, expand the Supreme Court, dummy), at least he’s demonstrated a desire for public service throughout his career. And he appears to not be willfully ignorant. He surrounds himself with smart people, and again, while I don’t agree with every decision, at least some fuckin’ thought went into it. He doesn’t just tweet something out and think he’s served his country for the day.

The people who vote for Trump can’t even use the old argument, “Well, I’m voting for the lesser of two evils.” Trump is not the lesser evil.

• Racist
• Sexist
• Transphobic
• Rapist
• Countless criminal investigations
• Lies constantly
• Steals
• Mocks people with special needs
• No desire for public service. In fact, he openly hates it

And if a decent human can’t beat a bad human in our elections, then our country is seriously fuckin’ broken. (Side note: Ditch the electoral college)

It’s going to take a lot of energy to not let these assholes drain all my energy. These Nazis don’t give a shit about anything but themselves. There’s nothing we can say that will change their minds. It’s sad. Until something Trump does directly impacts them in a negative way, they are ride or die for that orange turd. Even if it does negatively impact them, they find a way to blame “the woke mob” or Hillary Clinton or Taylor Swift.

I know what you’re thinking: Just ignore it.

I get that. All of it makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide for a year. It makes me feel helpless and hopeless. Sometimes, for the sake of my mental well-being, I ponder taking a step back from social media just to avoid the news. I’ll just be a 50-something white lady, living in her liberal San Francisco bubble, pretending that everything is fine.

But the privilege of “Well, I’m not going to look at it because it gives me the sads” is just too gross. I’d hate myself because that’s not who I am. I care a lot about kindness and fairness. And, spoilers for 2024, there isn’t going to be a lot of that this year.

People often associate kindness with weakness. But in this world where everything can feel terrible all the time, it shows strength to remain kind.

Now I’m not saying that we shouldn’t punch Nazis in the face. We should absolutely punch Nazis in the face. Hell, kick ’em in the dick. They don’t deserve your kindness. They deserved to be kicked in the dick.

“Well, that’s not very kind, Sonia.”

Sure, it is. You’re standing up to a bully. That’s kind. That’s brave. It would be easier just to close your eyes and cover your ears.

So where I landed is this: I’m not going to let these assholes sour me on the good stuff that’s still in the world. And I’m also not going to put up my blinders. I want to see when there’s an opportunity to do the right thing. Call out shitty behavior when you see it. Donate to organizations that fight for what’s right. Vote.

We can get through this shit together.

In the meantime, here’s a few things that I’m watching that make me happy.

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine” – I watched the first season when it aired, but for whatever reason it fell off my radar. When Andre Braugher passed (RIP Det. Pembleton), I decided to start from the beginning. This show is a gem, and Braugher was so fuckin’ funny in it.

“Vanderpump Rules” and “The Valley” – I started watching “Vanderpump Rules” last season because of Scandoval. Everyone kept recommending this show to me because Tom cheated on Ariana with their friend Raquel, and well, they thought it would be therapeutic for me to watch the entire world dunk on a cheater. They were right. Now I’m hooked, and I’m watching the spinoff “The Valley.” Both shows are mostly shitty people doing shitty things. It’s fun. (But also Team Katie and Ariana forever)

“In Search of Darkness: The Definitive Look at ’80s Horror” by Heather Wixson and Patrick Bromley – Everyone knows I love Patrick’s podcast on F This Movie. The book is rad, obviously, and you should buy it. My copy came with a handy list of all the movies they covered in the book, broken into categories by year. So, I’m slowly working my way through all the 80s horror movies on the list that I haven’t seen, which is so fun! I love watching stuff that’s kind of a project, a la “I’m watching all the Star Wars movies,” “I’m watching all the movies directed by Edgar Wright,” etc etc. It makes it easier to decide what to watch.

“Lisa Frankenstein” – Speaking of ’80s horror, I saw this gem in the theater maybe a month ago, and it’s already available on Peacock. I really enjoyed it, and kinda like Diablo Cody’s other horror movie “Jennifer’s Body,” I suspect this one will find its audience now that it’s streaming.

I’ll end this post plugging my podcasts, because they’re awesome.

On What a Creep, we just had an episode about Kirk Cameron and his nasty sister Candace Cameron Brue. Remember, we end every episode with someone who’s not a creep, so you don’t think the entire world is a dumpster fire.

On Dorking Out, we did a super-fun episode on 2000’s “Boiler Room.” We had SO MANY thoughts. Our most recent episode is about “Muriel’s Wedding.” Sigh. I wish the world was as great as “Dancing Queen.”

Yeah, so, this is 14-year-old me.

This girl was so afraid of being seen. She was so afraid that if people saw her, they’d make fun of her or be mean to her. She didn’t even want them to call her name during roll call in class because it drew attention to her. She would never ask a teacher a question, even if she didn’t understand, because then everyone would think that she was stupid. She also thought she was fat and ugly, and that is why no one noticed her. But at the same time, she didn’t want anyone to look at her, so wash, rinse, repeat. She was just kinda sad and scared all the time.

But she had an electric typewriter, and she would write these short stories all the time. The main character in those short stories was almost always a girl with red hair and glasses. She was brave. She loved to stand out. She had her own quirky style, and she didn’t care what people thought about her, which made her so cool. She was smart, cute, and funny. She was curious, kind, and outspoken. She always stood up for what was right. She was the person I wanted to be, but I was too afraid.

I haven’t thought about those stories and those characters for years. I was chatting with my coworker Diana, and I shared the photo with her. We were both laughing about how different I look now.

“How did that girl become this girl?” she asked, pointing at me through the Zoom. Diana always asks good questions. She’s a real smartie. And then I remembered the stories I used to write.

“You manifested yourself!” she said.

The hair. The glasses. The colorful clothes. This woman is smart, cute, and funny. She doesn’t care what people think, which just maybe (MAYBE!) makes her cool. She’s definitely outspoken with a strong sense of what’s right. She’s pretty brave. She’s got rad friends. She loves her job. She’s got a cozy home with the coolest kid and the most adorable dogs. She’s kinda killin’ it.

Y’all, 14-year-old me would loooooove 53-year-old me.

I look at that photo of 14-year-old me, and I just want to hug her. I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to be so afraid. Everyone in high school (in the world, to be honest) is just trying to figure it all out. You don’t need to be nice to people who are mean. You don’t need to have all the answers. It’s OK to ask questions. Be curious. Be kind. Be brave – even if it’s for just 2 minutes at a time. Having only a Diet Pepsi at lunch and weighing 120 lbs. isn’t going to make you happy, just hungry. It’s OK to ask for what you need. Having self-worth doesn’t mean you’re stuck up. Be nicer to your sister because she’s going to be your best friend. Talk to your mom, because she wants to help. Call your grandmas more often. Don’t worry about making friends, because you’re going to find your people. Oh, and don’t get that perm. It’s not going to look like that magazine photo.

I don’t blame 14-year-old me for being shy and scared. She was trying to protect herself. She was doing the best she could with what she knew. I’m proud of her for that. And that girl put in the work, and she led me here. I’m super grateful to her.

Thank you, 14-year-old me. You’re the best.

Yeah, so, I know people hate it when you talk about your dreams, so feel free to skip this one.

I had a dream last night that I got married again. It wasn’t to any specific man. It was just a faceless guy, or at least that’s how I remember him. I don’t know why I got married. But the moment I realized I was married, I felt so trapped. I was panicking. How do I get out of this? Can I just say, “Never mind?” I’m going to have to get divorced again. What a pain. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but also nooooooooo.

At some point, I told this faceless man, “I’m fine to stay married to you for a little while, but you can’t live in my house.” [“For a little while …” Hahaha, what a bitch I am in my dreams]

I gave him a little kiss. He got into his car. And I thought, “Should I tell him I love him? I don’t love him, but people might think it’s weird that I didn’t say it.”

I don’t know who “people” are. Instead, I said, “See you later.”

As he drove off, I said, “Ugh. He’s going to come back and try to get into my house.”

There’s not much to unpack here. I don’t need a professional dream interpreter to explain this to me. *looks on LinkedIn for professional dream interpreters*

I used to have these dreams in my late 20s and early 30s. I wasn’t seeing anyone, and every once in a while, I’d put myself out there and sign up for Match or Yahoo Personals (LOL, I’m old). I’d run through the potential matches like I was window shopping. I might go on one date, and then I’d have a dream similar to the one I had last night.

Trapped. Frustrated with myself for letting it happen. The realization that I’m going to have to do more work than I want to. And then I start worrying about how to get out of it.

It’s bananas that I associate dating and marriage with being trapped. Or is it? When I think about relationships, I think about all the compromises I’d have to make, all the things I’d have to stop doing because he’s there, and the idea that I’d have to make myself smaller to make room for them (and my smaller I mean my dazzling personality, not my waistline).

Basically, the idea that some dude will move into my home and bring all his stuff into my adorable, cozy space is terrifying to me.

I’m not even on dating apps, and if a man even comes sniffing around me IRL I have a version of that dream. I shouldn’t be referring to it as a dream. It’s really a nightmare.

I know I should probably save all of this for therapy, but it’s spooky season, and I wanted to write something scary for you.

Yeah, so, I’m 53. It’s nice to be here.

Getting older is a luxury. Not everyone gets to do it. I try to remember that and be grateful.

Still, it’s strange to grow old. My body doesn’t recover as quickly from everyday wear and tear. I used to play Mystery Date, and now I play Mystery Bruise. I buy Tylenol and Immodium AD regularly. I have coworkers in which I’m old enough to be their mother. I sigh when a waitperson tells me their restroom is upstairs. I watch TV with the subtitles on. I gasp when I hear Nirvana on the classic rock station. I say things like, “I went out yesterday, so I’m tired today.” I wish more events had matinees. I’d pay big money for the Taylor Swift or Beyonce matinee performance.

On the flip side … My body might be slow to heal, but I’m quick to identify past trauma and deal with it. I know what I like and what I want, but I’m not afraid to try something new. I have more stories to tell. More life experience has made it easier to talk to people and find something in common. I’m old enough to know better, but I might do it anyway, and at least I’m emotionally prepared for the result. Style used to mean wearing what’s cool. Now style means “my style,” and I wear what makes me feel good and happy. Heels do not make me feel good, nor do they make me happy.

As with everything in life, there’s a scene from “The Simpsons” that applies.

What’s “it” changes all the time. I just try to be curious and kind. I ask questions and listen. I may not be with it, but I can at least understand what it is.

So yeah, my birthday is the official start of the holiday season for me. That’s right, I include Halloween in the holiday season. Starting October 1, I’m all about pumpkin spice everything and scary movies. On November 1, I’ll put my Christmas tree up, and start watching holiday movies. It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

Yeah, so, I present to you: An evening conversation with Calvin.

It’s 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night. Calvin is in his room watching videos about Caltrain on YouTube.

Me: “Hey, you. I’m going to take a shower.”

Calvin: “Have fun.”

Me: 🤔 … “I will!”

Calvin: 🤔

And scene.

Yeah, so, it’s Sunday morning. I’m sipping my pumpkin spice-flavored coffee because I’m the most basic of bitches. I’m on my couch, under a blanket, because it’s August in San Francisco. And I’m doing that thing that all writers do – I’m staring at a blank screen.

I want to write. But what do I want to write?

I saw “Oppenheimer” yesterday. Do I want to write a review?

When it was over, I wrote in my notebook (yes, of course, I carry a notebook in my purse), “I feel like I just watched a three-hour trailer for Oppenheimer.” And then I had an overwhelming need to watch 1991’s “JFK,” another messy movie about serious things.

Nah. I don’t want to write a review.

Maybe I should write about my feeeeeeelings. I always have so many feelings.

We did a Brene Brown-style values exercise at work the other day. I’ve done these before in therapy. I’ve got a core four that usually float to the top for me: authenticity, fun, compassion, and curiosity. But this time, I had a surprise visitor. It was courage. “Oh, look at you. When did you get here? Are you lost?”

I’ve never thought of myself as a courageous person. In fact, I tend to think of myself as a big chicken. But I did make an effort after my second breast cancer diagnosis to be a little braver. To try some things that scare me. This led to podcasting and getting a new job. Hmmm, maybe I am a little courageous.

But, in this context, I was thinking about how much I value when other people are courageous at work. I’m getting braver when it comes to speaking up for my team – saying no to people is difficult for me because – again – compassion. But sometimes at work, I see bigger things that could be better. I find myself repeatedly asking in my head, “But why?” I don’t have a solution, but there’s a Zoom room full of really smart people who could make this better if someone (or me) was brave enough to say, “I don’t think this is the answer. Can we explore a different way?”

I have some work to do in that area.

Speaking of work, I’m leaving for Ireland next week. The first week is for fun, the second week is for work, which is also fun. Tune into my social media channels for photos of me drinking pint after pint of Guinness.

So, yeah, I liked this. Maybe Sunday mornings are for writing, even if I don’t know what I want to write about.

Yeah, so, everything in the world of words is all AI that, and ChatGPT this. I want you to know, dear readers, that The Sonia Show will always be written by a human.

That’s right, here at The Sonia Show, our writer is a real-life human. The typos you spot in all the blog posts are proof of that homemade human touch. Our writer is free-range, organic, and locally sourced. When you read this blog, you’re enriching your community and supporting your local artist.

This blog is artisanal. Each post is fresh. It’s handcrafted, curated, and custom-made just for you. It’s infused with wholesome creativity and paraben-free flair. It’s cruelty-free, sustainable, and seasonal.

The Sonia Show is an old-fashioned blog, the kind your grandma used to write.

When you choose to read The Sonia Show, you’re choosing quality.