Reunited and It Feels So Good- Hot, but Good

This past weekend was my 20 year high school reunion. Scary, I tell you. It's not that I wasn't glad to see some of the girls that I went to high school with. I really really was. As a matter of fact, my best friend is a high school friend. That's just how things tend to go here in south Louisiana.

To get the full picture, we need to go back in time a little. (Insert Bill and Ted flashback sounds and arm movements here. - Do-do-do Do-do-do Do-do-do) The year was 1989 and we're sitting in the cafeteria. Seniors all had the same lunch period so you could easily choose which of your classmates/friends to eat with. Let's be real, though. Most of us chose our friends early on, most were close to our names in the alphabet (we sat by them in nearly every class since freshman year so we became friends), and the groups of friends had been pretty well established and labeled by this time.

I wasn't in the snobby group (hmmm, do you know if you're in the snobby group?). I guess we were in one of the smart girls groups. All of my friends were in honors classes and we all came from middle class families and most had names in the beginning of the alphabet. No one had a new car. Barbara had a Chevette that we appropriately named the "Shit-vette" and I drove my parents' old car and sometimes had to get it started by first opening the hood removing the top from the air filter and using a screwdriver to set the choke. We were cool. Our section was in the second cafeteria over by the window that looked into the bookstore. We were bitchy like all of the other girls, but pretty normal overall.

As the years passed, some of us stayed in close touch and some just talked occasionally, but it was easy to see which members would fall by the wayside and which would stick together. As we became adults, some of our paths matched and some diverged entirely. Still, there where those that you might say "Hi" to in the mall and others that you wouldn't. It may be because you weren't friends or it may be because you don't remember them. (A quick fast-forward, I swear some of the girls I saw the other night did not attend my high school. Is it possible that even their names wouldn't ring a bell?!)

Now we fast-forward to a few months ago when I joined Facebook. I have some friends, old co-workers and family members out there in Facebook world so it's pretty cool to stay in some kind of touch with their lives. I'm not sure that I like the fact that I know Susie is vacuuming right now or Joan has a crush on the FedEx guy, but you know, you take what you can get.

Suddenly, friend requests start coming in from people who's names I recognize, but who I never really talked to from my high school. Some friend requests come in from people who I don't remember going to high school with at all (as seen 2 paragraphs above). When I first started, I accepted all of the friend requests because it seemed rude not to. Then you start to remember that not only were you not real life friends with some of these people back then, you're also not very interested in being virtual friends with them either. I'd like the option to send a friend rejection that says something like "Nothing personal, I just don't know you." I know they don't get notification at all, but what do you do when they try to "friend" you again?

On Saturday night I invited the girls who were part of my group (and who I still talk to) to my house before our reunion. I live close to the venue (i.e. bar) and it seemed like a good chance to get in a little quality time beforehand. I am SO GLAD I did. Here are the reasons the pre-reunion was better than the actual reunion:
1) Air conditioning
2) Food that didn't contain parasites
3) I didn't have to yell to hear my friends talk
4) I didn't have to watch my Facebook "friends" ignore me

Yes, the bar the reunion was in lacked appropriate air conditioning. It must have been 85/90 degrees in there. The "food" was finger sandwiches (with tainted mayo, I'm guessing) and cheese fries that one person thought was a tray of vomit. I'm not even kidding. We were afraid to eat anything there. The music was so loud that I left with very little of my voice left and lastly, many of my new Facebook "friends" didn't even talk to me.

Don't get me wrong, I had a good time, both my close friends and a bunch of ladies I haven't seen in a while were awesome! We had fun and I got to see and talk to a lot of people I never would have run into otherwise. Admittedly, I think we need bigger name tags because my memory is virtually non-existent and my eyesight sucks worse than my memory. I spent half the night staring at women's breasts so that I could remember who they were and not make a huge ass of myself. It was only funnier because many of those breasts were not present in high school. To clarify, the girls were there in high school with me, but their breasts were made by Dow Corning several years later.

As we stood around and laughed while wiping sweat from our brows, we discussed what we should do about all of these Facebook people who were steering clear of us. We talked about only remaining "friends" with people we actually talked to at some time in our lives. How funny is it when one of us "unfriends" (or is it "de-friends", I don't know) someone who ignored us only to get another friend request an hour later. Ooops.

I love re-connecting and reuniting. I love my friends. But did I mention my 20 year reunion was IN A BAR? I'm almost 40 years old and my reunion was in an un-air conditioned bar. Holy totally 80s, Batman.

If the 25 year reunion comes around and my friends are still talking to me after this one, I will probably go. I won't let anyone else decide to go based on my decision and I am perfectly willing to have a "reunion" of our own that doesn't include a bunch of people who are now strangers (except for the fact that I know when they poop because their Facebook status clued me in). I'll still be there singing about girls who have 867-5309 as their phone number. If nothing else it's good for a couple of laughs, some good memories and a whole lotta blog material.

Hairballs

I've had pets my entire life which means that I've had to deal with pet hair my entire life. For the most part, this means that I have lint rollers in my desk drawer at work, my car, near my front door and in my bathroom. It's just become a necessary part of living with my furry children.

There are also the inevitable kitty hairballs that pop up overnight on that dark path to the bedroom so that you step right in them in complete darkness and then have to hop on one foot the rest of the way so that you can rinse your foot off without spreading it all over the place. That is only the case if you managed to sleep through the sound of your cat hacking up a hairball. I can (sometimes) sleep through it if she's not on the bed. When she's on the bed, the sound of a kitty hacking is the most amazing motivation tool EVER. It's startling how quickly my brain can process the ickiness of having cat puke in the bed. A drill instructor could yell "GET UP NOW!!!!" in my ear and it would not be as effective as kitty hairball sounds. If they made an alarm clock with that sound, no one would ever sleep through it.

Lately, I've been wondering if I've been spending a little too much time around the pets. I think I might be the one who will end up with the next hairball. I'm shedding all over the place. My hair is falling out!!!

Okay, my hair is not really falling out (at least I don't think so) but I sure do find a lot of it on my clothes, in the shower drain, in my car - everywhere!

I've had thin hair all of my life. There were countless occasions when I wanted wavy hair like my sister so Mom would put my hair in curlers in the morning for an evening event. I was ready for my TV interview about the latest weather event with all of those pink, cushiony curlers stuck to my head. Then, without fail, about an hour after the curlers came out, my briefly wavy hair was once again as straight as a pin. Even the beloved AquaNet couldn't keep those curls in place. My hair was certainly flammable, but not curly. As a side note, while I'm typing this, I just had to take a piece of my hair off of the keyboard. Argh.

So maybe I'm becoming a feline. I really hope not, but it might open up a whole new dating world if I start grooming myself in public. That'll get the guys' attention, huh?