Sunday, March 16, 2008
A Letter to the 17 year old Me
Hi Me,
Please don’t be mad. I know you had big plans, didn’t you? Well, I tried, I really did. There are a few things I need to explain and I thought it best to write it all out. The 35 year old me thinks it is all cool, but I know you have got to be pissed so I want you to hear it from me.
On Friday night, I went to play Bunco with 11 other women from Vivienne’s preschool. I am sure you have no idea what I am talking about so here it goes. Remember when Mom would play Bridge with her friends? And they would all come over and sit with glasses of wine around those wood and beige vinyl folding tables with little wooden bowls of snacks on each one? Remember that it was mostly gossip and laughing and you never understood why it was fun? Well, it was so like that that I was a little nervous myself.
As I looked around I noticed that the women did have glasses of wine or a beer. There were bowls of snacks at each table. We all had green plastic beads on and a score card with own name and a little leprechaun sticker. As you could tell, I was a little scared. And don’t tell me you don’t know all of this because I could hear you giggling and guffawing at intervals throughout the night. The very scary part was that I did have a good time and I might even go back the next time I am invited. So there. Neener neener.
Let me tell you the best part before you keep judging. Even if I gave you the choice, you wouldn’t change a thing. Trust me. It is all good. Plus, look how long it takes us to figure out that playing games with church women isn’t all that bad! Now, it’s 12:15pm on a Sunday, please get out of bed. Are you going to sleep this whole day away??
Love,
Me
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