I'm speechless. Something that rarely happens. Last weekend marked the 10th anniversary of BitchFest, an annual gathering of 6 chicks who met in college, worked on the school paper together, and somehow felt the need to regroup.
The lot of us did not start out as a particularly tight clan. In fact, some of us hardly knew one another "back in the day." Our one link was 'The Daily,' all of us serving as various editors at different times. There was one other link, too. Helen. She's the Numero Uno, Queen Bitch, if you will. And Oct. 18 will mark the 5th anniversary of her freedom, being set free after an ugly battle with brain cancer.
BitchFest began when this diva, Helen, finished a Peace Corps tour in the African bush, and she was eager to see her girls, her Bitches. Five us: Waller, Helen, Diane and me all converged at Bradford's near Madison, Wisconsin. It was really just a weekend to reconnect, drink beer, look at photos, and talk.The following year the sixth bitch, Dukes, entered the fray and completed our roster. And every year since, most of us have dug deep into our schedules and found the willingness to put time aside for the Bitches. And BitchFest has seen some pretty significant changes in the personalities of her cast, and such changes nearly killed this sacred gathering.
After last year's "Huckleberry Bitch," in which we rented a houseboat and sailed the mighty Mississippi for a weekend, a few spiritual issues were raised that I, for one, was not prepared to handle in a mature, grown-up way. In fact, I behaved like a Bad Bitch: a whiny, divisive, smelly, pirate hooker Bitch.
Turns out, despite the near-death of this gathering, everyone came together in the spirit of Bitch and "put it out there" as we hashed out old beefs. Never have I felt more naked, having this group see me as I really am: flawed, broken, and ornery as hell. And negative, too. Ew. I left our gathering feeling more whole, but also more aware of the work I need to do on myself. I am such a pain in the ass, and can be so critical of others. I see that this is no way to live.
So to my bitches, I love you all sumpin fierce, and I have your backs in all that you do. XO.
Love your post, Jen! Wow. It was a home-run kind of weekend. I've replayed it in my mind 524 times. And hey -- don't sweat the tape-recorder playback. We'll be spending some time in one-on-one conversation over this before I print anything, OK? Plus, you're amazing. Really. And very truly.
ReplyDeleteYou post makes me wish "I" was a bitch too. I love this kind of thing, getting together, DRINKING, reshashin the past. Hmmmm makes me homesick.
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