I'm Not Going and You Can't Make Me!!

My 20th High School reunion is coming up at the end of the month. Snort. I'm not going. You can't make me. I didn't like the people then... why would I want to pay to go see them now? Ok, so I'm 'local' - only about 45 minutes from the scene of the crime... but still...

They've been planning it for a while. They've set up websites. They took contact info. Hmm. Might be fun to show off this great hubby and laugh over my last name.* I was considering it. Even registered at that darned classmates site. But then... the emails started. Apparently, the person who was supposed to be collecting the contact info never shared it with the person sending out the invitations. Thus began the mass-email, reply-all email fight. He said/she said... it was all so very... well... high school. Decision made. Not goin'. You'd think they would have grown up in the past 20 years.

So here's to 1987. When Def Leppard was "heavy metal". (Check out the video Hysteria. It has 'special' meaning to me - the outdoor scenes were filmed on the way to and at the resort I worked at summers (86-89). If you check out seconds 51 through 55... you can see the lake where I was a lifeguard. Teehee.) Girls had big bangs and skinny jeans... Not me... spiked hair and Chucks. Acid washed jeans. Depeche Mode, the Cure... Ah... the crappy old days. Life is nice now. (tho I wouldn't pass up a good pair of Chucks! High tops, thanks)


*My worst teacher was Mrs. M. Ick. Math. She was nasty and always had lipstick on her teeth. When I met dh in college and discovered that he shared the same last name, I would not go out with him until I made sure that there was no relation. Even then I knew we were meant for each other, and that there was no way in hell I wanted to run into that beast at a family reunion. Phew. No relation. Would've been sad to miss out on the love of my life over a stupid math teacher.