new year’s eve


I can’t say I’m upset.

I wish I had a little remorse.

Thank Goddess its over!

Can I get a whoop whoop?

For fucksake, Dick…drop that ball already will ya?

I have a NEW YEAR TO BEGIN! Omg. I am so happy this year is over. Actually, I have never been so happy in all my life. 2016 can kiss my fat ass! I am done. Done with people dying. Done with doors closing in my face. And done with unsupportive assholes. Buh-fucking-bye, you bitch-of-a-year. Yeesh. Should I tell you how I really feel? I hated this year. I did, and I can’t wait until Saturday night, when I can put it in the past, and move forward into the future. A future that is filled with all things happy, and exciting…and new.

2017 is my year.

Did you hear me 2017? I’m talking to you!!


New Year’s Eve.

Who doesn’t love New Year’s Fuckin’ Eve?
Only like the best night of the year. Really.
Get all dolled up. Hot dress. Hair done. Get your sexy-on. Take a water pill to get the excess bloat off from the Christmas carbs.
You are ready to go!
And you have extra-special reservations at the newest, hippest joint in town. Paid an arm and a leg, but who cares?!
It’s New Year’s Fuckin’ Eve! 

You wanna know what I did last year?
I was getting roofied at a swanky hotel bar in West Hollywood. And passed out on the bathroom floor by eleven. For reals. I wish I was kidding. But I’m not. I was at the Rose Bowl, in Cali with the best group of MSU boys this side of the Mississippi…or that side, depending on which state you are reading this from. Or country for that matter. I mean, if you’re reading this from Australia, then I guess who cares where the flipping Mississippi is, right? Shit. Let’s just say, the greatest group of guys on the planet!! I had just gotten separated, and I decided to take a trip. FOR ME. A me trip. Do you know what a “me-trip” is, girls? It’s a trip that you take just for yourself. You actually wake up one morning, get out of bed, and say, “Hello, (insert husband’s name here), I am going to be leaving for (insert place here), and that is that. Goodbye!” A “me-trip”. You don’t ask permission. You don’t see if it’s ok, or if it fits into HIS schedule. You simply go. You get the fuck up, and you go Daddy on him. You know, Daddy? The Danielle Steele novel where the main character literally leaves the Dad with the kids, and like never comes back. Just fucking up and leaves….buh-bye. haha. How many times have all y’all thought of doing that? Come on. Admit it. Well, I have. I’ve thought to myself, what would Mark do if I just left? Like took the car keys…and just drove off into the night. Never to be seen, or heard from again. Ya know? “Go Daddy” on him. Ya well, never happened. But a “me-trip” is the closest thing to a “Go Daddy”.
So, anyways, I left last New Year’s for Cali, and went to meet my bestest guy friends from MSU…and we had the greatest time at the ROSE BOWL! Whoop Whoop! It was my separation gift to myself. I used my own money. And just went. Alone. No friends from Charlotte, just me. My “me trip”. Something I would have probably asked to do before, but didn’t even batt an eyelash at this time. I just looked at Mark and said, “see ya”! And on NYE, I was at the bar, and low and behold….I put my drink down for all of 5 seconds, and I am 100% sure that I got roofied. Well, at least that’s what I’m assuming happened as I was texting one minute, and the next minute I was falling face first onto the floor. All I could hear was my friend Jason saying…”Jen…Jen…Jen!”
Good times. Just like MSU circa 1990. I was so proud…
And I got all dolled up. Hot outfit. Hair done. Clearly had my sexy-on. And made a complete and total ass of my newly-separated self….as I face planted on the W Hotel’s floor. Oh, and the EMS shining their little lights in my eyes, and taking my pulse was just an added bonus. New Year’s Eve was the BEST night ever! Not. Good thing the guys were close by to wake my ass up the next day so I could make the game. Go Green….Go White! I wanted to puke. And crawl under the bleachers. And I was just so happy that my friends didn’t make too much fun of me. They all were just probably feeling so badly for me…I was like this loser. Pathetic, and a hot mess. Little did they know, I was so happy to be there, that weekend.  Like the little sister, they dragged around…it was like the best time ever. Kinda like my coming out party! Even if I did get drugged. lol. Thanks, guys…you rocked. And Mark was such a dick. I called him, to tell him not to worry. I was fine, but nearly died the night before. Ok, a bit dramatic, but I felt like I had died. He was all but surprised. And could really give a shit. He said, “Only you, Jen. This shit only happens to you.” Just the confirmation I needed that I was doing the right thing. Separation is a GO. We have lift off…
So, now…it’s a year later. And so much has happened! omg. So what am I going to be doing this New Year’s you ask? Hmmmmm.
Well, I have options.
A trip to Savannah. With this boy. He’s fun. And funny. Not the same. Fun and funny. Two different things. So, he is both. Fun and funny. And hot. But I’m not going. Then, there is this invite I got to go to Boston. This other fella. Smart. Successful. Handsome. Not fun. Or funny. Not going. Ok, are you following me? There’s always my best friend’s house party. She is totally fun and funny. And I don’t give a rat’s ass what she looks like. lol. But she is lovely. And very pretty. Who cares. She knows how to throw a party. And cook, and she always has awesome drinks. And stuff. But I am probably going to be the only single person there. So who would I kiss at midnight? How embarrassing. So I am not going. No I am not. Oh, and her dog hates me, and always tries to eat me. I’m not kidding. I have no idea why I taste so good to her puppy….but I think it’s only me. I’ve never seen the dog eat anyone else! I’m doing to have to have a conversation with her about this. My friend, not the dog. Talking to dogs is weird. If I start talking to dogs, please lock me up.
Ok, so there you have it. I am staying home. I’m going to drink wine, and blog. How great does that sound?! A drunken New Year’s Fuckin’ Eve Blog! ha. I think there will be nothing finer than a blog that I post at the stroke of midnight. Genius. Think it’s too much? I thought of that just now. I mean, what are the actual chances that I’m up at midnight? I will probably be sound asleep by nine. I’m such a lightweight. If I start drinking my wine at like, seven-ish…I will never make it! Shit. I better make some of those little hot dogs, and man up! Dammit. My sister will be in her pi’s too, I think…I need confirmation, Julie. But if that’s true…I won’t feel like that big of a loser. If Mother Sketcher (my sister’s company, shameless plug) is sitting in her hotel room in South Beach on NYE, then The Truth Hurvitz can be alone, too. Although, somehow being in South Beach…with her hubbie, and kids…sounds a little more glamorous than being in Charlotte, no? New Year’s Eve is over-frickin’-rated. I have never liked it. Never. It’s so much pressure. So much hoopla! So much….
Nonsense. And noise. And kissing. And happiness. And yuck. Just drop the damn ball, Dick! Why do you have to be sooooo dramatic? We all know it’s going to fall. Yeesh.
I would much rather be in my house. Alone. Drinking myself into a drunken stupor, and writing my inner most thoughts. Hey, at least if I stay locked-in, there is zero chance of me getting roofied. Just me, Ryan Seacrest…and my laptop. This year, I’m laying low. Which is quite abnormal, but I’m ok with it. My boys are with Mark….and I am not going to cry over it. I am going to take advantage of it, and just chill. Anyone wanna join me? ;)
xo j
Happy New Year, all y’all! And here’s to great things for all of us in 2015!