I just heard from a friend of a friend that this is your last column. Is this true? How can this be? Where will I go for advice? I’m a chubby bisexual woman—that other Seattle advice columnist hates people like me! What will I do when my boyfriend wants to put a finger up my butt or I catch my girlfriend going through my text messages? How will I ever get laid without your guidance!?!
—Lost Without You!
Yes, it’s true. Just call me Judy McFired.
It happened last week, and I should’ve known it was coming when the editor-in-chief sent me an e-mail saying we needed to “chat.” The last time an editor told me we needed to talk, it was two days after I had a minor cancer surgery, and I figured she wanted to check up on me. Nope. The reality was that she was calling to can me (I guess she was waiting to see if I survived). It’s like when your girlfriend or boyfriend says “Honey, we need to talk.” Once those words are uttered, you can be certain heartbreak’s on the horizon.
So I had a an inkling it wasn’t going to be to discuss a 500 percent raise or a marble statue Seattle Weekly would be erecting in my honor.
And while yes, the Weekly broke up with me, unlike most of my breakups, this is an amicable one. I’ve worked here for 13 years—and since columnist years are measured like dog years, it’s really more like 4,000 years. If Dategirl were my female child, she would already have its period.
Mark couldn’t have been nicer about handling the heave-ho, giving me the employer equivalent of “It’s not you, it’s us.” And unlike times when men have told me this in the past, I’m going to choose to believe him. Sure, maybe I’ll be replaced with a 23-year-old yoga aficionado in weeks to come, but at least I was able to maintain my dignity on the phone with him. I didn’t yell, beg, or even cry until we hung up. Then I cried a little.
OK, kind of a lot.
I’m not going to lie—I’m really sad to be leaving the Weekly. I’ve written Dategirl for a bunch of other venues over the years, but Seattle has always been its home, even though I live far away in Brooklyn. And now when I visit, I won’t be able to write it off as a business expense.
I’ve been blessed with a series of talented editors over my time here: Richard Martin (who hired me way back in 2000), Bethany Jean Clement, Andrea Reyer Cooney, Mike Seely, and most recently Gavin Borchert. They’ve turned my sometimes rambling verbal diarrhea into brilliantly polished turds for your reading enjoyment.
You can still find my writing online at various outlets. If you want to keep in touch, I’m on Facebook, Twitter, or you can look at my blog, dategirl.net .
Thank you for being an amazing readership, and I wish you all much luck in love. You’re going to need it.