Friday, October 9, 2009

I've been out of high school 20 years? Really?!?

Next weekend is my 20th high school reunion. Totally not going. I wouldn't go if I still lived in the same town, which so many of my former classmates do. I do wonder when I get an email about the reunion who might show up, but to be honest, I feel like I've caught up on most people through Facebook. And, judging from the entries on the reunion website, it's going to be one of those "job resume" events where stay-at-home moms become domestic engineers who facilitate the education and training of their genetic offspring. Not that I have a problem with that, but it would be nice to hear the honest truth, not the souped up PR version of it. I mean, really now, let's whip out the pay stubs and the declare the highest earner the winner of the evening. It will save a lot of time and energy.

Besides, there's something about me that truly believes people want to know how I am or what I've been up to when they ask. Turns out, it's generally a rhetorical question and is really supposed to 1) serve as the segue for what the person asking has been doing or 2) be a quick assessment tool to see if the high school hierarchy should still be in place, or 3) serve as a nice big ego stroke for the 'more successful' person in the conversation. Although, I do admit, I think that success is subjective in many instances. For example, let me get myself up and ready, the kids up and ready, the kids fed, and all of us out the door at my 'target' time, and I feel pretty successful for the day - regardless of what happens afterward. I'm a goob that way.

So, next weekend I'll safely be thousands and thousands of miles away while my high school class reunion-izes. Allow me to raise a glass of sweet German wine in all of your honors, totally happy with the fact that I am not in the middle of squinting at name tags because I refuse to wear my reading glasses while squeezed into three pairs of Spanx and starving because I haven't eaten anything but lettuce, soybeans, and water (what I call the Posh Spice diet plan) in a month. Have at it Titans - send me the mass produced postcard. Word to yo' mutha!

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