It’s Just a Supercut of Us

Plus: Takeaways from WNBA’s Opening Weekend, Orioles miss the point, Survey Help, more

In the spring of 2022, I was calling downtown Cleveland home. I moved there on October 8, 2021, after my partner and I got divorced.

Heartbroken. Depressed. Alone. Determined. Sad. Hopeful. Doubtful. 

My emotions ran the gamut. But yet, before I moved out, I took what they said to heart.

I wanted to have an exit interview of sorts, because I knew this decision wasn’t made lightly, and I wanted to know what went wrong and how I could work on myself.

Not for her. Not for anyone else. I wanted to do it for myself.

And I did. I wrote down everything, and honestly, she hit the nail on the head. It was a cycle of toxic codependency given our childhoods, marrying young, and going through traumatic events together.

You’re taught that when a traumatic life event takes place, that you should be cautious when bringing that event up. And walking in on a failed suicide attempt qualifies as a traumatic event.

We weren’t cautious.

We just didn’t talk about it.

And that was one of–not the only–reasons that we divorced.

I made my own life, met my own people, and had my wonderful dog. Because honestly, if I didn’t have Jillian, I’m not sure what would have happened. She was light when there was only darkness. She forced me to get out of my little studio apartment each and every day. We went to the park each day for her to play with her friends, but it was also her way to make sure that I would meet people, too, instead of isolating in a sea of self-loathing.

I was on a good track, and I was getting confidence back. 

I was a fucking catch. I was seeing it.

I did the dating app thing for the first time, and I met some really cool people. Nothing serious, of course, but just a way to get out of my shell and build up that self confidence.

The good thing about Cleveland–one of many good things, actually–is that it was close enough to my home base of Pittsburgh. If I wasn’t ready to be that far away from people that I knew, Pittsburgh was less than two hours away.

I made it a point to eventually see my people regularly. I say eventually because I kept where I was living to myself. I wanted to go somewhere new where I didn’t know anyone.

My partner saw where I was heading unintentionally when I had a library card (nerd!) sent to the house before I moved out. 

I am who I am. 

But no one else knew. My mom. My siblings. My friends. My family. No one.

I needed to have one thing that was mine and only mine.

It wasn’t until my mother–God bless her heart–cried around Christmas time when she heard of a shooting in Michigan somewhere, and told me that anytime there’s something that happens like that, she freezes for a second because she doesn’t know where I am.

I eventually told her and others where I was, because it was the right time. I was feeling at home, and I was done grieving the last decade of my life.

I had a friend fly in from Boston in December (a true friend does that because who visits Cleveland in the winter?!?). Another friend visited in May from Pittsburgh. I met up with college friends who were in town from Erie. 

I was feeling like myself again, and I loved it. 

I loved myself.

My friend, Brandi, texted me to see if I was still on for the Lorde concert in Philadelphia on April 20, 2022.

We bought the tickets in June 2021, after Brandi accidentally paid $400 each for tickets for the show instead of $400 total.

But it was Lorde! We had to go. And a trip from York, Pa to Philadelphia, Pa? Yeah, that was no problem. What’s 2.5 hours?

But from Cleveland to Philadelphia, well, that was a haul.

But I needed to see Lorde. Hell, I drove from Cleveland to Milwaukee to see Alanis Morissette. I will go wherever I need to go to see the artists that I love.

So I told them “Absolutely. I’m in.”

I put my PTO request in, and I was going to stay the night at their house the night after the concert before I went back to Cleveland.

Then, April 13, 2022 came. I got a text from my partner and ex-wife, Blayne.

We were on good terms. The divorce was handled maturely, and I am so, so, so proud of both of us for doing that. Emotional growth and therapy, people!

But the text said–paraphrasing–would you ever want to unpack what happened with us?

I froze. I didn’t know what to do.

My initial reaction was to be mad, because that’s what we think of divorced couples.

Be mad.

Be spiteful.

Hurt them like they hurt you!

But then, I grounded myself and said that would be great.

We chatted back and forth, and then I said that I would be back in the state in April to go to the Lorde show and if they wanted to meet before that, I would be up for a cup of coffee.

It was two people. Two friends who decided to share their lives together who needed time to find themselves who were reconnecting because we missed each other and we wanted closure.

We each missed our best friend.

So after a drive to York, I met Blayne at Prince Street Cafe, and it was like we didn’t miss a beat. We were talking about our lives. About Jillian. About their dog, Grandma. About our jobs. About gossip. About TV shows. 

It was fantastic. I missed my best friend. And my best friend missed me.

It ended with a hug, and we both had the closure that we needed.

I met up with Brandi at their house, as we took their newer car to The Met in Philadelphia. I hate Philadelphia. I hate it with every fiber of my being, but I love The Met as a venue.

We got there early, and we were catching up on life. As we were killing time in their car waiting for the doors to open, I got a text from Blayne. It was a picture of a card with their handwriting that she meant to bring with her to coffee and give to me if things went well.

I felt surprise and shock again, but this time, that quickly turned into butterflies.

I’ll leave the details of the card out, as, again, I want to keep something for myself, but as I was sitting in the car, waiting for Lorde, I turned my head to the side and was listening to Brandi talk, giving the occasional “oh wow,” “yeah,” and “haha” while wiping away tears.

The show was fantastic. I’ve wanted to see Lorde forever–it is always sad girl szn in my heart–and she didn’t disappoint. 

When “Supercut” came on, there was no holding back the tears.

In my head, I play a supercut of us

All the magic we gave off

All the love we had and lost

And in my head

The visions never stop

These ribbons wrap me up

But when I reach for you, there's just a supercut

'Cause in my head (In my head, I do everything right)

When you call (When you call, I'll forgive and not fight)

Because ours are the moments I play in the dark

We were wild and fluorescent

Come home to my heart, uh

In that moment, despite a sold out venue with 3,800 people in it, it was just me and Lorde, and when I closed my eyes, it was just me and Blayne. 

I texted asking if Blayne was free for coffee the next morning. And the reply was instant.

“Absolutely I am.”

So, we met again. We were serious this time. We were mature. We saw the growth in each other, but more importantly, we saw the growth in ourselves. 

We had no expectations. We wanted to take it a day at a time and know that at any point, we can walk away and know that we tried everything we could.

But we asked “Do you want to try this again?”

It was a resounding yes.

I’ll always and forever remember April 20. It gave me one of the best concerts of my life, but more than that, it gave me my best friend back. 

Every single time I hear Lorde now, whether I’m listening to one of her vinyls at home or she comes on my Sad Girl playlist, I think of that day. 

When I go see Lorde in October of this year on her new tour, I’ll be thinking of that day and of my partner. 

I’ll forever cherish Lorde as an artist, but even if she puts out an album that is just her tapping on a mug for 90 minutes straight, I’ll go to bat for her.

Because when there’s Lorde, there’s Blayne. And because of the concert, it brought me back to Pennsylvania to have the best cup of coffee of my life.

And when the coffee was gone and we went our separate ways? I ran to her as she was waiting to cross at a crosswalk. She turned around, and for the first time since August 2021, I kissed my person again.

I felt like Nick Miller kissing Jessica Day.

Yeah, you know the one.

Now, when “Supercut” comes on, it isn’t a sad feeling of what was: It’s a happy feeling of what is. 

A different picture plays in my head.

And you can bet your ass, that moment on the corner outside of the coffee shop is on loop.

Thank you, Lorde. I’ll see you in October.

5 Takeaways from the WNBA’s Opening Weekend

The season is officially here, and I don’t know about you, but I was locked in all weekend.

Upsets. Drama. Injury scares. Buzzer-beaters. The opening slate had it all.

Here are 5 things that stood out to me.

Natasha Cloud is the missing piece for the Liberty

It seems crazy to say since the Liberty just won the title last year. But Cloud absolutely showed out for the Liberty in her debut on Saturday. She was all over the floor on both ends, making her presence felt offensively and defensively. Sabrina Ionescu and Leonie Fiebich struggled, so seeing Cloud step up was huge.

Caitlin Clark is even better than last year

Caitlin Clark was locked in Saturday, recording a triple-double against the Chicago Sky. From her three-point shot, to her assists, to her five (!!) blocks, Clark was absolutely locked in. Her head is always up, scanning the floor. She’s a top-three player in the league.

Spacing isn’t an issue for the Dream

So, the bad news is that the Dream lost to the Mystics thanks to a huge end-of-game sequence for Brittney Sykes.

But the Dream were able to put up 36 three-point attempts, which were the most in franchise history. That’s nearly double the amount that the attempted last year.

We also saw what happens when you have two rim-running bigs who are able to open up the floor to put the defense in a tough position.

Karl Smesko’s offense is complex. So it’s not worth pushing the panic button yet as they continue to integrate it in.

Julie Vanloo has it

Golden State showed out Friday night in their first game in team history. The Sparks ended up winning easily behind Kelsey Plum’s 37-point effort in her Sparks’ debut. But Julie Vanloo—a breakout pick for me—really had a fantastic game.

She’s known for her precise passing, but she was a bucket Friday night, shooting 5-of-11 from the field and 4-of-10 from three-point range.

Napheesa Collier has MV-Phee written all over here

The WNBA regular season. The WNBA Finals. Unrivaled. The 1-on-1 Tournament. It doesn’t matter the setting—Phee is going to show the hell out.

She did it again opening night against the Dallas Wings, as she went for 34 points on 12-of-21 shooting. A’ja Wilson has one rival in the league. It’s Collier.

Play Gap Survey

The nonprofit, Play Gap, is conducting a survey to better understand the overall health and wellness needs of adult womxn in sports.

If you have a few minutes, could you help them out and share your thoughts?

Orioles are the Latest Team to Miss the Point

It doesn’t matter how bad the Chicago White Sox. The same with the Colorado Rockies.

They were expected to be terrible.

But the Orioles? Yeah, they are, without a doubt, the most disappointing team in baseball this year.

And the finger should be pointed at Mike Elias—not the recently-fired Brandon Hyde.

It wasn’t Hyde that was comfortable with replacing Corbin Barnes with the ghost of Charlie Morton.

It wasn’t Hyde who said “Grayson Rodriguez is hurt, but Kyle Gibson is a free agent!”

It wasn’t Brandon Hyde who looked at Baltimore’s starting rotation entering the season and felt that it was good enough given the elite-level talent its offense has.

No, that falls on Elias.

But it was Hyde who was fired, not Elias.

It’s a commonality around the league—and life, really—as there always needs to be a scapegoat, and it won’t be the CEO at your company or the general manager in baseball before it’s the director or manager.

The same is true in Pittsburgh when the Pirates fired Derek Shelton—someone who I don’t necessarily feel is a great manager—but retained Ben Cherington—someone I am comfortable in saying isn’t a great general manager.

It wasn’t Bud Black’s fault that Colorado has the worst front office in baseball when it comes to evaluating players.

But all three have to take the blame before the general managers and decision makers.

It’s infuriating—especially if you’re an Orioles fan, as the offense that they have is enough to allow them to compete with the Yankees, Red Sox, Tigers, Mariners, or any other team in the American League.

Instead, they are sitting in last place in the American League East. It’s a place they’ve been familiar with over the last decade.

But that was supposed to change last year. The rebuild was supposed to make the Orioles competitor.

“Just be patient,” the Orioles front office said at meet-and-greet with fans at a game in 2022.

The fans had the patience, but unfortunately for them—and for the Orioles—the patience with Elias has just about run out.

Until Next Time

I’ll see you Friday. I’m excited about the next newsletter, so subscribe and keep your eyes glued to your inbox.

Until then, I love you awesome nerds.