I always meant to write a post explaining the crazy soap opera that is the background with my Ex. I meant to do this when I started this blog. But then I got off track and time passed and I basically forgot. Lately, however, I’ve noticed an increasing number of readers sending me questions. Questions such as:

• You live with your Ex?
• You live with your Ex and have a child with your Ex?
• You live with your Ex, have a child with your Ex, and share a room with your Ex?
• How exactly do you define Ex, anyway?

It is about time I told the story, so put the kids to bed, grab some popcorn and take a seat. I doubt this is going to disappoint. Here goes.

My Ex and I met in college and had an immediate attraction. I fell for him fast. He fell (for my looks, anyway) fast. We began dating. A year or so later, when he realized he was not in love with me and that I was very much in love with him, we broke up (shortly before graduation).

I was heartbroken. Despite myself, I couldn’t stop seeing him. (Err, “seeing” him.) I told myself I could separate emotions out and that I wouldn’t get hurt, even as I knew full well that I was lying to myself. He began a relationship with a new girl while continuing to see me whenever we happened to be in the same city. Occassionally, we’d even fly to visit each other. During one such visit when he was in NYC (where I was living at the time), I got pregnant.

I found out and told him of my pregnancy a week before he was to leave for nine months in South America. He was panicked, upset, and very, very angry. VERY angry. He said he loved his new girlfriend and wanted to marry her some day. He said that if I were to keep the baby, I would ruin that. He said some very hurtful things, the things that someone who is very scared says.

I did keep the baby. I had had an abortion before - with my Ex - and swore that if I became pregnant unexpectedly in the future, I would not do that again. It was too hard. So I went through the pregnancy alone, while working long hours in Manhattan. Two weeks before our son was born, my Ex arrived home from South America and was at the hospital when Gavin arrived.

Realizing it didn’t make sense to raise Gavin alone in Manhattan, I agreed with my Ex’s recommendation to move to the West Coast where he was to begin his career. I quit my job, found a new one, and moved across the country to a city I did not know. My Ex and I moved in together and have been raising our now two-year old together ever since.

There have been many ups and downs. My Ex lamented the breakup of his prior relationship and blamed me for that for a very long time. Dating and social situations are stressful. Division of labor is stressful. Cohabiting and rebuilding a friendship after so much is stressful.

Today, I think we’re in a good place. We fought for a while (not surprisingly), but for the past 6+ months, we’ve started to gain a lot more respect for each other and the fighting has been minimal to non-existent. Gavin has the love and support of both his parents, and everyone, lately, has been pretty happy.

It’s a non-standard situation to say the least and it’s likely going to change in the coming years, but for now it works. And that’s really all that matters.

I’m sure it surprises exactly no one that I’m not too keen on the second Mrs. McCain. Aside from being a vapid home wrecker who looks far too much like a vampire for my personal comfort, Cindy McCain is a liar.

See, if your husband is running for President, we as the American people would like to hear you speak. Open your mouth from time to time, tell us you care about health care or poverty or orphans in Africa. It really doesn’t matter what the topic is - it just matters that you have something quasi-intelligent to say. And, oh yeah, it has to be the truth.

Cindy McCain has decided to open her pink lipsticked mouth, but unfortunately what she has to say is neither intelligent nor the truth. (Go figure.) In retelling stories of her childhood, Cindy McCain has said that she was an “only child.” Enter Kathleen Hensley Portalski, daughter to Jim Hensley, aka Cindy McCain’s father.

You see, Cindy (whose middle name, by the way, is Lou. Quite amusing that she shares her name with a main character in ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’), when you share the same father with someone, that makes you siblings.

Jim Hensley was married to Mary Jeanne Hensley in 1943, the year their daughter Kathleen was born. However, when Jim was injured during WW II, he was sent to recuperate in West Virginia where he met another woman, Marguerite Smith. In 1945, he divorced Mary Jeanne to marry Marguerite, and nine years later, Cindy Lou (Hoo) was born. Does this story sound ironically familiar to anyone else? Talk about a Freudian analysis!

Cindy McCain knew her half-sister, Kathleen, with whom she reportedly spent some holidays growing up. Kathleen Hensley Portalski says she is upset and feels like “a non-person” by her sister’s continual assertion that she is an only child.

Kathleen has stated that she would like acknowledgement or an apology. When NPR asked the McCain campaign to respond or comment, no reply was received.

Idiots, idiots, idiots.

Now compare Cindy Lou (Hoo) McCain with Michelle Obama, who is bright, articulate and a graduate of Princeton University and Harvard Law School. (Also, Michelle is not a liar.) Do we really want to elect a leader who would choose debatably attractive, fib-telling arm candy as his life partner over someone who can challenge and expand his thinking? Really, America?

Okay, time for an embarrassing confession: I have had the same cheap wallet since I was in eighth grade. (I’m now in my mid-twenties, so hopefully that will give you a sense of how disgusting said wallet is.)

A few weeks ago, I finally decided that it was time to splurge on a new wallet. As impressive as I’m sure my clients find my financial responsibility, something about me pulling out a tattered, canvas wallet with dangling zipper enclosures during business lunches just doesn’t instill the confidence and professionalism they’re after.

Luckily, I found a shop in Seattle that makes handmade, custom wallets. The shop is called Laura Bee Designs and they take orders both in person and online. And they’re cheap, too! I ordered a full-size, custom wallet for $26. The quality is decent, not amazing, but the styles are really cute. They also make handbags, too - depending on how my wallet wears, I may be going back there a lot!