One week and counting
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 explanation (since I never provided a back story nor did it come to fruition overnight): Many months ago, as I got my first notice of the alumni weekend I knew I would end up going to this event alone and might be the only one who is still old maid single. There would be others who are also, but many are now divorced or separated. Of course, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Things like this make you think of all the losers from the past who darkened your doorstep, and I decided to reach for the stars. I read a humor article on the website Cracked about such something, a man reflecting on what his needs and wants in life were to be and should he forced to share them with his alumni. He asked himself if his greatest aspiration was to have a beautiful trophy wife, so I had the notion that I would want a handsome trophy husband to bring with me. Fake of course, I simply couldn't get one and hire one for it. I sent Tweets to Jim Carrey, John Taylor from Duran Duran, Donnie Walberg, Mark Walberg, and the entire lineup of The Go (past and present) to be my escort for that night. That came from some fluff I was watching on the E! Channel that some woman in the military sent Justin Timberlake a Tweet asking him to escort her to a formal occasion and he complied. Or something like that. So I too decided to reach for the stars in the hope that one of them would respond. No such luck of course, but I was fine with that. Then I looked around at my friends, thinking I had to have a more reasonable option. Some would not come if I asked them, others would probably laugh at me. Then, while seeing Sordid Lives at Con-Con one night, I saw C filling in for the first choice of the part who had to bow out due to illness. And I thought "That's him". So I asked him, he said yes, and that's how it came to be. I have only told one who I also attended with of my plan, she was quite pleased to hear it. Hilarious and gutsy she called it. I give myself a smug pat on the back if I do say so myself.
In terms of mental prep, it's been rough. I'm afraid, and I am afraid because of all the insecurities of high school coming back to haunt me and others who might be there as well. I suffered in silence back then, I'm sure others did as well. There were a precious few who I wanted to tell that I felt their pain, but somehow couldn't back then. Maybe we were too repressed, by the skank whore bitches who overpowered with their pepper and tears and snitches and sneers, fear of criticism by others who were not among them, or something else. Whatever it is/was, I am not sure of. There are a few things that I wish I had known then which I do now, but everyone learns that over time.
Some of it, I know I cannot share with them, I know they are too delicate for just such tales. There were many times that I looked back on certain events in my life and had a few flashbacks. When seeing the inside of a crackhouse I flashed back to the times I was forced to participate in the infamous class song contests to entertain the alumni masses at the annual holiday lunch. If that was not the most embarrassing collective moment of adolescence, I don't know what is. Then I remembered the time I was at the gun range getting my beginner conceal and carry license when others were in their debutant ball gowns. There were happy memories as well, like being in the Phil and Lit class (probably the best class I ever took in high school for the ability to read high ended literature and discuss it with others who were of the same mindset), the history teachers were always the best of the best, and sharing a funny laugh or two about being in 12th grade bonehead English class. In general, though, I was a good kid who didn't go bad until my college years.
If anything, I have had a good life, a very exciting one if I do say so myself. Most people will never leave their hometowns, and I got to see Egypt, Denmark, Sweden, Norway and the UK. Some hang onto their high school friends as if they were the best and only ones they would ever have, I have them in all four corners and a diverse cross section of them. Once I asked someone what their dreams were, she said "I figured whatever will happen to me will happen to me", and I guess it did. I earned my title, shodon. Discovered who I was in the arts and even might be in a play one of these days. Next? I can do whatever I want with this life and I intend to have a wonderful time while doing it. Just have to wait for if and when the wind blows my way. Just have to live in the shadows, otherwise I won't have the freedoms that I have. Cloak and dagger operations, I can't comment on that.
I'll probably be squeezing C's hand hard when I walk into that house to see them again, but I will relax soon. I hope.
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 explanation (since I never provided a back story nor did it come to fruition overnight): Many months ago, as I got my first notice of the alumni weekend I knew I would end up going to this event alone and might be the only one who is still old maid single. There would be others who are also, but many are now divorced or separated. Of course, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Things like this make you think of all the losers from the past who darkened your doorstep, and I decided to reach for the stars. I read a humor article on the website Cracked about such something, a man reflecting on what his needs and wants in life were to be and should he forced to share them with his alumni. He asked himself if his greatest aspiration was to have a beautiful trophy wife, so I had the notion that I would want a handsome trophy husband to bring with me. Fake of course, I simply couldn't get one and hire one for it. I sent Tweets to Jim Carrey, John Taylor from Duran Duran, Donnie Walberg, Mark Walberg, and the entire lineup of The Go (past and present) to be my escort for that night. That came from some fluff I was watching on the E! Channel that some woman in the military sent Justin Timberlake a Tweet asking him to escort her to a formal occasion and he complied. Or something like that. So I too decided to reach for the stars in the hope that one of them would respond. No such luck of course, but I was fine with that. Then I looked around at my friends, thinking I had to have a more reasonable option. Some would not come if I asked them, others would probably laugh at me. Then, while seeing Sordid Lives at Con-Con one night, I saw C filling in for the first choice of the part who had to bow out due to illness. And I thought "That's him". So I asked him, he said yes, and that's how it came to be. I have only told one who I also attended with of my plan, she was quite pleased to hear it. Hilarious and gutsy she called it. I give myself a smug pat on the back if I do say so myself.
In terms of mental prep, it's been rough. I'm afraid, and I am afraid because of all the insecurities of high school coming back to haunt me and others who might be there as well. I suffered in silence back then, I'm sure others did as well. There were a precious few who I wanted to tell that I felt their pain, but somehow couldn't back then. Maybe we were too repressed, by the skank whore bitches who overpowered with their pepper and tears and snitches and sneers, fear of criticism by others who were not among them, or something else. Whatever it is/was, I am not sure of. There are a few things that I wish I had known then which I do now, but everyone learns that over time.
Some of it, I know I cannot share with them, I know they are too delicate for just such tales. There were many times that I looked back on certain events in my life and had a few flashbacks. When seeing the inside of a crackhouse I flashed back to the times I was forced to participate in the infamous class song contests to entertain the alumni masses at the annual holiday lunch. If that was not the most embarrassing collective moment of adolescence, I don't know what is. Then I remembered the time I was at the gun range getting my beginner conceal and carry license when others were in their debutant ball gowns. There were happy memories as well, like being in the Phil and Lit class (probably the best class I ever took in high school for the ability to read high ended literature and discuss it with others who were of the same mindset), the history teachers were always the best of the best, and sharing a funny laugh or two about being in 12th grade bonehead English class. In general, though, I was a good kid who didn't go bad until my college years.
If anything, I have had a good life, a very exciting one if I do say so myself. Most people will never leave their hometowns, and I got to see Egypt, Denmark, Sweden, Norway and the UK. Some hang onto their high school friends as if they were the best and only ones they would ever have, I have them in all four corners and a diverse cross section of them. Once I asked someone what their dreams were, she said "I figured whatever will happen to me will happen to me", and I guess it did. I earned my title, shodon. Discovered who I was in the arts and even might be in a play one of these days. Next? I can do whatever I want with this life and I intend to have a wonderful time while doing it. Just have to wait for if and when the wind blows my way. Just have to live in the shadows, otherwise I won't have the freedoms that I have. Cloak and dagger operations, I can't comment on that.
I'll probably be squeezing C's hand hard when I walk into that house to see them again, but I will relax soon. I hope.
Comments
Post a Comment