So technically Wince and Wine night was YESTERDAY and it. was. awesome.
AWESOME.
You should totally come next time … although the booze will not be free. That was a one time deal, kinda like that one time you let so and so lick your feet. But we won’t talk about that here now will we?
TOMORROW night (29th) at 8pm jodimichelle.com is sponsoring a “Wince and Wine” night at Butches in Holland, Mi.
We’ll be buying the first 2 bottles of wine - but the rest is on you.
Wince and Wine is a night of reminiscing and laughter - break out your old high school or middle school journals - do you ever wince to yourself when you re-read some of that drama? Good! Bring it and share it!
I’ll be starting the night off to get our feet wet with laughter - I have PLENTY of embarrassing and wince worthy entries to get us going and then I’ll sit back and join in on the laughter with all of you as participants take turns doing a reading (or readings) from their journal. Let’s get interactive!
Are you with me?
There’s nothing like a fire full of regret burning right in front of you. Also add in a couple glasses of wine and my night was a winner.
I don’t have much more to add to the whole thing other than whats done is done. There is quite a chunk of my life that I never ever write about because of those circumstances and thats ok. I’m not old which is why that saddens me, I feel like I’ve already lost so much. BUT!! It no longer matters, those memories are gone - I’ll never again have to relive those days.
Also? There were some really good times mixed in there, memories of my girlfriends and normal care-free high school stuff. My journals just never really highlighted those moments because of the shadow of everything else going on- it was my free therapy and at that time in my family a journal was as good as it got.
Dear high school memories,
Ah yes. You again. Well. Hi. I don’t have much to say about you. Unfortunately for me I’m a big part of the reason I never enjoyed you and I always blamed it on something else because it was easier to think that the chip on my shoulder had nothing to do with me. Oh right - I also dated a douche bag. Don’t forget about that. But I have, now. It just doesn’t matter. I never had the dreams about walking through high school naked - but I think I always feared that I already was naked, exposed - that everyone knew my business, there was no safe place to go, no safe person to talk to … and now I have some of the most amazing people in my life.
Girlfriends who stick up for me and love me despite all the crap in my past, a husband who healed parts of my heart with unconditional love that I never knew were broken until I knew the power of his unchanging, undaunted care for me and two very small people who look at me every day and say my name … Mom. Not much else matters when it boils down to that.
Tonight I am doing something so powerful in my personal life that I cannot contain myself. In getting ready for the Wince and Wine night next week I’m reading through ALL of my old journals - and I mean, really reading through them. Every single entry - every line.
I am disgusted and saddened at the amount of time and energy I put into a boy in high school. So much so that I can tell in my handwriting when I was and wasn’t with him. I was a different person - I for some reason lost everything to be with a boy who seriously fucked with me. Lied, cheated and made me believe I was less than what I was - that I didn’t deserve the best, that he was the golden ticket to my happiness and the saddest part about all of this is that after a while I started to believe him. I lost my fight.
People, I don’t think you know how much this bothers me. Reading back on those days makes me raging with anger. I so wish I would have listened to EVERYONE else in my life at the time who were telling me to snap out of it. My own mother warned me. I was so blind.
I have never written about this before because I know that the high school boyfriend has, in the past, read this website. And for some reason I cared. I didn’t want to offend any one or bring up old issues. Well I’m here to say that I don’t give a living shit anymore.
I now have a daughter and if she ever goes through something like this, even remotely, I’m going tear the kid on the other end a new one. Don’t fuck with me. Do not fuck with my kid.
Internet - I’m shaking. This is so freeing I can’t put it into words. I will be burning those journals tonight. The past did happen and I regret a lot of it but it will no longer have a presence in my present or my future.
And it’s done. IT IS DONE!!!!!
The “About” page is now published …
I feel a little bit like I always imagined my mom felt when we said - OH MOM! and got embarrassed for her, on her behalf, when she could care less that she was acting in such a way. You know how it is - your mom gets “something in her” and all of a sudden you see this stranger let loose in the skin of your own mother. You actually think to yourself “she knows how to have fun?” and then you start laughing and mocking her because there is no way in hell you want her to know you just thought your own mom was cool.
And here I proclaimed I wasn’t a mommy-blog. Lets try to make that true.