I realized today that I am out of sugar, as opposed to last week, when I was out of hazelnut creamer. Rather than run to my neighbor's house to request the cliched "borrowed cup," I decided to sweeten my caffeine dream with chocolate syrup.
Ohmygod yum. Starbucks, suck it. I don't need you anymore. You are now the old mop to my new Swiffer, and you can serenade me all night long, but it will be to no avail.
Anyhow. Onward with my chosen blog topic.
I blogged last week that I was going to attend my ten year high school reunion. The event took place at a fun little bar, which I have google-imaged for your viewing pleasure. You can't really tell by looking at the photo, but to the left of the building is a second floor, covered patio, and that is where green and blue balloons and a chalkboard sign beckoned the class of 1999. Once I made the painful trip up the concrete stairs, wearing very cute but ill-fitting high heels, I was greeted by a station which contained posters full of pictures from our senior yearbook... I really wish I'd just gone ahead and taken out my camera at that point, but hopefully one of my classmates will post pictures soon on facebook, at which point I will tag myself and insert them into this blog entry, for posterity and whatnot. There was also a nametag station, which I avoided like the plague. I figured that a) it would really not do anything for my outfit and b) it would be fun to see who remembered my name without the help of a sharpie and a sticker.
Our graduation video was playing on one of the little televisions matted above the bar. This was entertaining, as the video contains not only the graduation ceremony, but photos we submitted a decade ago -- of ourselves as toddlers, with each other at prom, senior portraits. It was hard to pay attention to the video for any length of time, but thinking about it really makes me want to dig it out of whatever memory box it's been in for the better part of the new millenium and to give it a watch sometime soon. It also served as a great reminder that I look a hell of a lot hotter now than I did back then.
I immediately got a beer and started fluttering back and forth between clusters of alum like a little social butterfly. After a dozen or so conversations that all followed the same pattern of "where are you now (in life?)" I wanted to grab that blank name tag and write, in all caps, MARRIED BANKER. NO KIDS. It was time for another beer.
After round two or three, it was time to break the seal. As I opened the restroom door, the back of a man greeted me. He was peeing. At a lone urinal. Which stood next to a stall.
The bathroom was all Ally McBeal: coed. I waited for my former school bus buddy to zip his fly before entering the restroom to take my first tinkle of the night. However, when I came out of the stall to wash my hands, another old classmate stood at the urinal. Which was right next to the sink. I weighed the options of not washing my hands against appearing and feeling disgusting, and moved over toward the soap. Then, there was this weird where to put my beer down moment. The ledge of the sink was uneven (I tried putting the beer there, clearly) and the only other option was the top of the urinal, right next to the flush. I sat my beer there and promised my pissing partner that my eyes were focused straight ahead.Ensuing trips to the restroom were less eventful, as the novelty wore off and the beers kicked in.
I didn't bring my husband with me, and some guy I didn't really remember from school asked me for my phone number at the end of the night. I guess he wasn't very astute, as I do wear a wedding ring. He probably didn't graduate with honors, right?! Ahh, but I was flattered. He didn't get my digits, but he made me feel warm and fuzzy. I almost forgot that my feet were literally numb from the high heel pain. When I was ready to call it a night, I decided that my ten year reunion was fun as hell. I'm looking forward to 2019. I wonder where I'll be in another decade...
That's me in the middle, flanked by two lovely girls I knew in high school!
Comments
Unless it's for business. But that never happens. We print ours out so that we look somewhat professional. And probably to avoid the "HELLO. MY NAME IS...Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Even though half of our clients would think it's funny and the other half would just be confused.
You are so goodlooking!!
I love that pic.
Alao the pic in your profile.
hugs hugs