I’m moving out.

There, I said it.

 The next few weeks I’ll begin packing my house to move out for six months…and even though this was my idea, I’m freaking out a little bit.

 “That’s a weird number of months”, you’re probably thinking and it is! But this whole thing is weird, so let me try and explain.

 It’s been over two years since my divorce and although I’ve taken my time, given myself some grace, went through therapy, renovated my house, found love again and the kids are good…there’s still some part of me that feels nervous…scared…unsettled.

 Honestly, it’s mostly the financial/partner part, the part I’d come to rely on in my marriage. The idea that I was part of team. The part where I could focus on everyone’s happiness and the logistical…

I posted this week “I was done”. While I usually find it easy to get up, put a smile on my face and trudge through the mundane tasks of life….I just couldn’t do it one more day. I spoke with a few girlfriends, but I was otherwise quiet (other than my boisterous renditions of John Denver’s “Grandma’s Feather Bed”)

Years ago, I would have hated the silence. I would have craved unloading my woes to girlfriends, gone to dinner to avoid eating alone and stayed up late drinking wine and chatting the night away til bedtime. But at the tender age of 52, I’ve grown up. I’ve realized the only person who can calm my brain is me. It’s taken 50 some years to figure out what that even means, but I just know.

My whole life I’ve craved and sought out the wisdom…

Happy Fall Everyone! In the spirit of this new season, I want to share a “New Season” in my own life, one that’s filled with love and laughter…and his name is Jason.

We’ve been dating a while, as some of you guessed during a certain “Tipsy Tuesday”, and we’ve enjoyed getting to know one another and our respective families privately. It was important to me to have this time together and get to know each other off line.

Jason has accompanied me on a few trips and met many of you

Today all my dreams….I mean, my kid’s dreams…come true!!

On August 25th, 2024…we’ll celebrate the 8 year anniversary of my “Back to School Rant”. I shot this video in a local Target, while drinking vodka and talking about the importance of buying School Supplies for our kids (and teachers). My sister, Nicole, is a 5th grade teacher and I know she’s worked hard to provide the best education (and supplies) for her students…and I was sick of listening to people complain about it.

I had no idea my off-the-cuff lamentations of supporting our teachers would hit such a vein all over the world! The video went viral in 2017, with over 150 Million views worldwide and

I’m spending this weekend with a group of women I love. They are all creatives….artists, comedians, writers, photographers, actresses, creators, news people, hosts and analytics. I’ve met them throughout my career and, although we all work in different disciplines, we have many of the same issues in common. Our careers, while exciting, sometimes leave us working in a “bubble”….working alone, with no “co-workers” or set schedule to keep us on track. Staying motivated, focused and inspired can sometimes be a struggle with very few people to bounce ideas off of.

I had a few days open at the shore house so I invited

I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be “Mysterious”…but I feel like I’ve tested the Lord in a number of ways, so now he’s just straight aggressive. Let me explain.

Even after 21 years as a stand-up, I don’t know I consider myself an “artist”. I’m sure I’ve earned the title but when I think of “artists” I think of earthy women with low pony tails, no bra and sensible shoes. (I know I have ugly shoes but still don’t qualify) Maybe I’ve got that imposter syndrome people are always talking about.

A few years ago, while faking my way through stand-up, hosting shows and motherhood, people started asking me if I was going to write a book.

I love my kids….let’s start there. Sure, sometimes they stink, brushing their teeth can apparently be a “goal” for the day versus a necessity and only God know what “aesthetic” they are going for when dressing….but I love them.

They are now 24, 21 and 19 and we’ve gotten past the point where I know nothing…which was game changer. Mind you, this “you don’t know anything” period lasted about twelve years, but sometime while entering their twenties, I birthed a brain and some knowledge they sometimes

My car died last week…Like an overworked mom trying to keep her sh*t together, she was going about her day, trying to get me to Brooke’s concert, when she started throwing gang symbols (warning lights) about the tires, the transmission and the oil, in succession…then, she just turned off and gently floated to the safety of the shoulder of the road. I’d been filling up the back right tire weekly, the oil every three weeks and stalling out at traffic lights for a few months. I knew the end was coming. I had been saving for about a year so I’d be ready for this fateful day…but alas, when spending that much money, you are NEVER ready.

But, the question remains….Who am I now?… in car language?

I love my kids….let’s start there. Sure, sometimes they stink, brushing their teeth can apparently be a “goal” for the day versus a necessity and only God know what “aesthetic” they are going for when dressing….but I love them.

They are now 24, 21 and 19 and we’ve gotten past the point where I know nothing…which was game changer. Mind you, this “you don’t know anything” period lasted about twelve years, but sometime while entering their twenties, I birthed a brain and some knowledge they sometimes

I didn’t plan this….I should say that now. One year ago this week I was at the lowest point in my life. I was moving forward, reluctantly, with little plans for what I was going to do an hour from any moment, let alone where I’d be a year from then. I spent this week last year off social media, moving through life feeling quite numb…wondering what to do next….

I didn’t plan this….I should say that now. One year ago this week I was at the lowest point in my life. I was moving forward, reluctantly, with little plans for what I was going to do an hour from any moment, let alone where I’d be a year from then. I spent this week last year off social media, moving through life feeling quite numb…wondering what to do next….

Call me old fashioned but my mom made it clear when we were younger, she wasn’t our friend. She was mean, never let us stay out and drink with our friends, never let us have ice cream for dinner and never cared if we had cool clothes. She just insisted on us being warm, well fed and loved beyond measure. Ridiculous!!!

I had a similar approach to motherhood. I took every “You’re a horrible mom!” or “Why can’t you be cool like the other moms?” as a badge of honor. It meant they had boundaries. It meant they knew where the line was. It meant they knew right from wrong and who to talk to when that was hard to decipher. I’ve rocked this philosophy for 23 years and I’m pretty proud of how they’ve all turned out. (minus some stinky moments and an aversion to deodorant, which is a lot more recent than I’d like to acknowledge) Until this past week….I turned 51 and my daughter Brooke, aka Birdie, posted this picture to her IG story…

’m not sure we have a ton of forethought about our “End Game” when we raise our children. Sure, we all want to raise bright, happy, thoughtful, well-mannered children and when in the throws of motherhood (especially if there’s multiple kids) many of us go into “Full Mom” mode….

Did you eat?

Did you sleep well?

Are you safe?

Many nights I rested my head on my pillow, exhausted, but oddly content they were alive. Motherhood was exhausting and I was working on minimums.

I often look back and vacillate between wishing I could go back and eat their tiny toes and relish those big toothless smiles, to loving my life now, filled with sleep, yoga classes and late nights drinking too much Bourbon. Hot food is just too yummy, and I didn’t have many hot meals during those early years.

I say all this because the “hard” years…. the ones that started at 5:00 am and lasted til I put the kids to sleep and watched a dateline murder show until 11 pm (it was oddly calming) ….are behind me.  I thought having kids aged 23, 21 and 19 meant I could enjoy the fruits of my labor. I could sit back and silently laugh at their unrealistic philosophies of the world, endure their overuse of the word “aesthetic” and patiently wait for a wedding or baby shower to eventually crop up….to just enjoy being a cool grandmom one day.

But apparently there are these middle years I didn’t know about. The “I’m so proud of who you’ve become…. but you’re killing me” years.

Welcome to our 1st OFM Blog and Newsletter EVER! I’m so excited to share all the great ideas we have for this year and introduce…