This video was the BEST THING EVER in 1985. Sorry if you missed it.
Anyway, I'm not going. Bestest Friend did not travel from Massachusetts to attend. I think we're both over high school.
As an aside, I made another cull of my earthly possessions in an attempt to fit my life into a 963 square-foot apartment. Among the things that did not make the cut: the dried corsage from my senior prom, and the collection of swag from my 10-year reunion in 1995.
Moving on, people.
I'm Facebook friends with a handful of people from my graduating class. If I want to reminisce or otherwise visit, I can contact them. There were more than 1,200 people in my class. Twelve hundred. The percentage that even knew I existed is definitely not worth $75 to eat some crappy hors d'oeuvres at a restaurant in downtown Dallas.
I hope they have a great time. But 99.9% of them won't even realize I didn't attend.
I was a zero in high school.
I'm a...one now? I don't know. But whatever I am, I have no desire to impress my current status on a bunch of near-strangers. Near? Nah. Strangers.
|Here's the yearbook from my senior year.|
I'm in it. Whoop-de-do.
I don't own any forks, Drunkards.
I don't own any towels.
Some dear friends will help me move two bedrooms' worth of furniture tomorrow. I'll treat them to lunch for their efforts. And after they go home, I'll look around and wonder, "Well, now what?"
But that's just life.
My almost-ex is taking out all of his frustrations on me. All of them. I'm dealing with it because I know it will be over soon.
But for those of you in a similar position, I say: Tell him to fuck off and walk away. You'll be much happier.
Guys, I graduated from high school 30 years ago. The fact that anybody finds me relevant and worth reading is...goddamn amazing to me, honestly.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
I'm moving tomorrow. I just hope the people who have promised to show up will actually show up. But if not, I'll make it work. That's what I do.
Good thoughts are totally welcome.