A Rough Decade

Okay, so I know I'm a terrible American for not posting something on my blog for the 10 year anniversary of September 11th.  I do remember where I was, how I felt, and how thankful I am...blah, blah, some crap everyone else posted on Facebook.  I'm actually a very emotional person, so writing about serious things does not appeal to me...I'm home alone (oh boy, there's a shock) and don't feel like getting all sappy and crying while we discuss that over a $3 bottle of wine. 


And not only did I not write about that, I also didn't write about the two weeks I was away from home; one for work, and the other for play.  Nor did I write about how big of a failure my "garden" is now that I left it stranded for those two weeks...I'm talking we had to rip the watermelon right out.  It was just ridiculous.

What I do want to talk about is something that's been on my mind for the past (absentee) month...a reunion that is giving me mixed emotions.  One that has caused more anxiety than an exam, or what shoes to wear...I'm referring to my 10 year class reunion.  Shit. Fuck. I can feel the vomit creeping up my throat as I type this.  And what better time to discuss this than now, cause it's this Saturday.  Yep, a little throw-up in my mouth.


Don't get me wrong, I have been doing my usual wifely duties around here.  I did watch 9/11 tributes, and the season finale of Rescue Me...but seriously, this reunion is the one thing that has managed to stress me out the most (and my work trip was during hurricane Irene) out of anything I've had looming.  It takes over every conversation, and has me checking the Facebook invite daily.


What is it about this reunion that is so upsetting to me?  Have I not achieved a few bragging rights over the years?  I did get two (count 'em) useless diplomas to hang on my wall (or wipe my ass with), I did get married to a very handsome guy (who is just as disturbingly vulgar as I), I do weigh 10 pounds LESS than I did in high school, and I do now own a house, and live debt free (well, besides that stupid mortgage)...sounds like the American f'ing dream!!  Right?!?! 


Ugh...but it's useless.  The one thing I think I always really wanted out of my 10 year class reunion was to be able to come back successful, and confident.  And I think it's a little late to try and convince people that I invented Post-It notes, pretty sure some sluts ruined that in a movie...





Need one of those dresses ASAP!

 
I do have a friend that's trying to make it big in LA now, so of course she's coming all the way home to throw that in everyone's face.  But I don't really have an awesome porn acting career to brag about.  And the only reason I lost the 10 pounds was because I managed to get Irritable Bowel Syndrome since the last time I saw some of these folks.  And not really sure that's something I should be sharing...even though I always (gladly) do.  Not to mention Gerard has no desire to go, and my best friends and support group will not be there.


I think that's why I've finally decided that I won't go.  I don't want to have any regrets, but thanks to Facebook, most people can see my successes and failures online everyday.  They can also see that I don't exactly look like my senior photo any longer (or at least I hope not).

Yep, that's/was me.  My high school graduation photo. I know, I know...I look like a mix of Vince Neil (if you don't know who that is I need you to get off of my blog NOW) and Chaz Bono.  I had a serious addiction to chocolate chip cookies, and Sun-In for my hair, and the "Rachel from friends" haircut.  Oy vey.

This wasn't exactly the best post to throw at you after a month of silence, but I needed to be honest about what I've been up to.  And deciding whether I've bettered myself over the last decade has been at the forefront.  And let's be honest, I only wanted to go to see if the popular kids got fat, and the band nerds turned hot.  I think that's the only reason they make you have these dreadful things...isn't it?

I bid you a goodnight!!