As you know, I went to my high school reunion last year. As a result, I’m now once again in touch with all of my favorites from high school (via Facebook, of course). Actually, I take that back. I’m in touch with my favorites who are actually on Facebook. I’m still looking for this guy and the guy in the crop top. If you know where they are, please let me know. Also, does anyone have an update on W. Warden? Okay then.
Jeff’s reunion is coming up in a few weeks. When he told me about it last month, I quickly made plans to lose 25 pounds, grow out my hair, and memorize ten witty one liners. (My favorite? “If all the girls who attended the Hazelwood prom were laid end to end, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.” (High five, Dorothy Parker!)) The 25 pound thing? I failed. The hair? Shorter than ever. The one liners? Yeah, probably a waste of time when you consider the fact that I spoke to less than five people at the neighborhood party last weekend. So, anyway. Here we are. Sort of dreading the reunion. Not really looking forward to going through this again. Feeling like a frumpy wife with no quips.
Last night, Jeff went out with three of his friends from high school. When he returned, I was told that none of the friends’ wives are attending the reunion and that I now fall into that “none of the friends’ wives” set. Immediately, as I tend to do, I turned my exhaustion at the thought of GOING to the reunion into anger at NOT being able to go. Isn’t that pretty? I’m a whirling dervish, but not nearly as awesome as the authentic dervishes! I’m happy! I’m so sad! I’m sweating for no apparent reason! I love you! I despise you! Let’s eat marzipan!
Take Note: The girls called a family meeting, where the following announcements were made.
Meredith is no longer Meredith. She is Claire.
Harper? She shall switch off (with no warning) between Jordan and Daisy.
No one calls me Mommy anymore. I am Vanessa.