I’m Michele. Hi. I’m terrible at these things. I want to be flippant and funny, but – my history is neither. So – I’ll try to be
not so brief and informational instead. You can also learn more about me in my “100 Things” post.
I grew up in a small suburb of Southern California. I was raised by my great aunt and uncle. I refer to them as “mom and dad”. My biological mother was not June Cleaver. Dysfunctional family, abuse, yadda, yadda, yadda. I was a high school band geek. Went to college, got a degree. Got engaged to my high school sweetheart – and then unengaged (that’s a whole other story), and my life went into a tailspin.
I always was a late bloomer. I didn’t rebel until I was 21 years old. I always have felt, however, that if one is to do something – do it well. I did. I started raving (underground parties that aren’t so “underground” anymore – but they were when I was involved). Then I got into the drugs. I can count the drugs I haven’t done on one hand. And that’s just ’cause I couldn’t get a hold of them. My actual addiction was to meth. I started actually throwing the parties, running clubs, and dealing drugs. I loved the life that I was in, because I felt like I belonged somewhere. It is rare for me to belong anywhere. I was happy with my life. Kind of.
Around September of 1997, I became a born-again Christian. I went up north and lived in the South Bay area of California. Because I made a clean break, and knew no one up there, I was actually able to kick the drug habit. Let me tell you… going through withdrawals alone in your little cubicle of a “room” is NOT fun. I didn’t have a job, but was able to live in my church’s dormitory. I got off meth in October of 1997.
When I got up here, I was THROUGH (done! Finito! Amen!) with men. I had nothing but bad experiences such as rapes, abuse, and assaults, and it was obvious I didn’t know how to pick them. There was one guy in my church that I couldn’t get out of my head. I would see him with his family. I once waited on him in the bookstore. That’s it. I never spoke to him. In January of 1998, I started some Bible classes through my church. Through some weird circumstances, my classes were canceled, and I ended up in that mysterious guy’s classes.
Someday I’ll write a full “how I met my husband” entry and link it here. Click here for the series of posts on how I met my husband. He’s the best thing that could have happened to me. I love him dearly, and think he’s the kindest, sweetest, sexiest man alive. And he loves me too, and makes it quite obvious to me and anyone else within hearing. That feels awfully good. He’s Jay. In previous entries on the blog (for various reasons) he’s called “Poe.”
We got pregnant with our first child in 1999, and we lost her to a miscarriage. Then came Joseph. Then came Logan. Both have special needs. We now live in Southern California. We live next door to my
parents dad (mom passed June 16, 2013). (Ha! A cosmic joke!). That means cheap rent for us, and I am able to help them him out. Dad is 81. It’s crazy-making. I work from home running my business, Vineyard Virtual Services. My husband works nights in “protection.” It’s… Interesting.
As for blogging – I’ve been doing it since the dinosaur days of notepad and scratch html. They were “online journals” then, and we were thought of as incredibly insane. Eventually, technology and community caught up! I’ve been doing this since 1995, and my archives go back to 2000.
Personality-wise, I’m pretty much a homebody with a wicked streak.
-Last updated 1/20/16.