2ndclepunkbuddha

It has been said that if you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.  Dare I say that the same applies to one who has been admitted to the hospital or going through a divorce, as all three are like nightmares that you are never going to wake up from.  Some may say that the three may be worlds apart, but they are somewhat similar when you think about it.  You're confined to a place with others suffering but in just as much pain and mental illness as you, others are angry that you ended up there, and you want it to be over and done with as much as possible.  Forget about sleeping or being comfortable.  Of course, I have never been to jail for any reason.  I know enough about jail to know that there is nothing pleasant about being incarcerated.  For those who do not believe that, I say they don't have to listen to me but go there themselves and find out.  Also, I have never been through a divorce, but know that it too is like...

The day had finally arrived.  I spent the required so many hours making sure I was prepped and ready physically so as not a hair was out of place and I was as neat as a pin.  I knew I had scrubbed up nicely when some woman at the gas station at the pump across from me said that I was looking like a queen.  I told her I only dress up in order to do so.  C and I met at a Starbucks on Chagrin Boulevard, left his car there, and carpooled over a few blocks as parking was going to be a bitch.  And, there we were.  I gave him full props for dressing to the nines, and he did not wear the tie dyed T shirts and silver pants he would usually wear at Nelson's Ledges as his usual garb. With 48 hours and counting, something went down.  When I got my invite in the mail several months ago, there was to be a playdate at someone's house earlier that morning so that those in their classes could bring their kids.  Truth be told, this was what I was looking for...

We are now upon the eve of the reunion.  There are/were some events going on today but I opted to bow out of them, because I wouldn't be bothered with some of it.  I was never one for bowling and a happy hour could be found at any other bar I could attend.  I saw a lot of posts on Facebook from those who are there, and I am rather surprised by the amount of people that showed up.  Quite honestly, I had no idea who would or would not be showing up other than the usual suspects.  Earlier this week I ran into a gal who I attended (two years younger than me) with who also lives in Tremont at the coffee shop, I said I was going to it that weekend.  J said to me that she felt like she never belonged there, as she spent much of her time away doing other things, I said I felt the same.  She asked why I was going, I said I wasn't sure.  I've had much time to think about it, truth be told I still don't know.  The food?  Who knows.  J sai...

Just recently, another movie has been released of The Great Gatsby , a 1925 novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  While most artists do not enjoy success in their lifetimes, in stereotypical fashion, one has to die before their work is appreciated for its themes and depth of scope.  This novel (and subsequent film adaptations) deals with the themes of idealism, resistance to change, social class, decadence, and excess which takes place in the Jazz Age (the 1920s in America between World War I and World War II).  Of course just such things can be applied to any decade or social changes; and, in the great tradition of nostalgic twenty year cycles, Fitzgerald's novel was rediscovered in the 1940s for just such accomplishment and has since been applied to every high school English class and has been read by millions since. For the sake of redundancy the plot is as such : The narrator is a guy named Nick who has moved to New York for a job to work as a bond salesman.  While re...

As my 20th high school reunion draws closer, I have had much time to reflect upon it.  Part of me is terrified of it.  Many in my class were updating one another on a Facebook thread as to what they have been doing, in general it's good news.  There are/were a few that have fallen by the wayside, you wonder what they are hiding.  Other than the one who is serving time for Arson 1 and Murder 2 in a maximum security prison in Oregon (or was, I hear she's out now and the other inmates didn't kill her, much to my chagrin), and a few others whose fates were not as dubious but equally as tragic, all seem to be rather healthy and respectable.  I am getting ready for the event with near excessive moisturizing, hair washing, working out and having my handsome fake trophy husband C on my arm, I think I'm ready by all appearances.  Some have asked how and why it is that I came to the conclusion to bring a handsome fake trophy husband to this event.  Here is the...