And here we are, one more epic week in The Jerz! As the holidays come around, I say we all give thanks for family, love, and for friends who love us enough to respect us. We’re off to Siggy’s weekend retreat at Crystal Springs, and I’m ready for some eye rolls and some roleplay.
Joe and I have an agreement: I handle the style, and he handles the vile. To be honest, construction and contractors are both nerve-racking at times, and if I turn my head for too long, he goes rogue on me! And you know men—they don’t ask for directions! You say foie gras, I say faux bois, but we all go for ice cream, got it? If I came home to goose liver walls in my ballroom, I’d have a meltdown and have a lot more to say than #FlockYou, sweetheart.
Joe could tell I was a bit down after my conversation with Dolores. He didn’t know that it wasn’t a tense discussion but a powerful, meaningful, and profound one. It’s difficult to remind myself about the void I feel from the distance between myself and my children as well as the loss of not being in their everyday lives. Joe’s an angel, and I can’t put into words just how profoundly thankful I am for him and his unending, unconditional support. I’m reminded again and again just how empowering he always has been and continues to be. I'm definitely blessed with an extraordinary man.
Seeing Teresa and Dolores trying to resolve their issues was a great moment to watch. I got some insight into Dolores’ perspective and knowing that Teresa is a no-holds-barred kind of girl, I expected it to be more challenging that it was. That’s the power of real friendship and connection. Communication either comes easy or it doesn’t. If it doesn’t, there’s no bond there. Twenty years of close friendship truly constitutes family, in my opinion, and the highs and the lows will come and go. In my divorce, I lost my best friend that I considered family, so I can almost relate to both sides of this fence. However, with Dolores calling herself a conspiracy theorist, I’m not surprised to see her take the cheap shot at Danielle by calling her a drug addict. If Danielle’s not just being pure evil, then she must be on drugs, according to Dolores…that’s a pretty wild accusation, even for Oliver Stone, let alone Dolores.
The other issue for me here though is that even when discussing her own relationship with Frank, Dolores can’t help but take a sly dig at Teresa and Joe’s relationship. That was unfortunate, but it’s clearly the way she feels. Dolores said that and much worse last week with Siggy in the butt-pellet office. She can’t conceal her real opinions on her friend, and I’m beginning to see that she doesn’t even care to hold back with Teresa—only with Siggy. Not sure what that’s about.
Watching Siggy eat that giant ice cream was really something, though. For the second time so far, I could finally relate to Siggy! I was so proud, I had a sundae of my own! FYI, my name is spelled M-A-R-G-A-R-E-T not “Margret,” but that's ok; when you’re the most talented person on face of the earth, what’s a little typo here or there, y'know? And yes I’ll come to your seminar and retreat…but I’ll tread lightly and sleep with one eye open, thank you very much.
Can I just say how I have truly loved getting to know Melissa more and more? I just click with her on all eight cylinders, and I think she’s a total doll. We have a few similar parallels (like being married to vertically-challenged Italian guys named Joe), but being moms, self-made businesswomen, and co-matriarchs to a large family kind of makes us bosom buddies—literally. It’s not easy being a working mom either. It’s almost as if it speeds up the process of your kids growing up somehow. It’s a constant stress that occupies your thoughts: be the best mother you can be, run a successful business, be the best mother you can be, run a successful business, be a wife, run a loving home, run a successful business… It plays over and over again. I know how priceless it is to lend help when and where it’s needed, and like I said, I champion everyone’s success in every way. I’m a true girl’s girl, and I don’t have to blow anyone’s candle out to make mine shine brighter. As a woman in a world dominated by powerful men, I have always been grateful to women who empower each other. Lifting another woman up is not just a talent but a skill that rewards itself endlessly. Speaking of empowering women, hearing Melissa say she will support Siggy’s endeavors despite her recent public humiliation is just another reason why I connect so well with Melissa. My M.O. is always to just move on, make things better, and lift each other up no matter what went before. It’s a noble endeavor and one I humbly pursue every chance I get. After all, we really are stronger together.
Which brings us to my last point: I’m so happy I went along to Siggy’s seminar and retreat to encounter my own public shaming. As if the Hunger Games-themed Instagram post promoting the retreat wasn’t clue enough…
We entered the premises like lambs to the slaughter, come to think of it. Seminar? More like SemiNAH, thanks. At least we had Vikki to act as a buffer to the bully…whatever. If it makes you happy, Siggy, you go ahead — slam me and then fix all our problems with a nip, a tuck, a coat of lip gloss, and a new profile pic from all your other expert cohorts.
And I’m glad I empowered you, my dear little capitalist, with a slogan you’ve sold at $25 a pop. Some design element on the shirt wouldn’t have cost much, by the way. My team could’ve helped. Oh, well. Keep the cut you promised me for more entrepreneurial investments—you’re welcome.
Which brings us to the dinner.
Look, if you haven’t realized by now, I’m happiest when I have a plate of something in front of me. I get no kicks from champagne, but show me a steak and a pie á la mode, and you have yourself a party á la Marge! All I wanted was some wings and some bread, but we got served with more allegations, conspiracy theories, and a side of resentment. Can’t anyone get a decent meal around here?! Oy! It’s one thing to disagree with someone, but to assassinate their character is a whole other level of vicious and vile. At this point even Siggy thinks it went too far. I repeat: Siggy thinks it went too far. That’s saying something!
Rooming with the girls was probably a good thing. We got to a deeper understanding of each other and nothing beats a little forced bonding. I’ll tell you what doesn’t help even forced bonding, though: imitating people who can’t see themselves for what they are. I see myself, flaws and all, and can laugh at my shortcomings—and do! It is bizarre to me how Siggy can’t get my humor and get in on the joke with me. It’s equally as frustrating as it is amusing, but it’s a lost cause—you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Either way, I’m having way more fun from where I’m standing.
You can print that on a t-shirt, too.