Despite What the Movies Say, There Was No Synchronized Dancing in High School

Reunions...

Does that word ever bring joy or feelings other than dread to anyone? Family reunions, high school reunions, Backstreet Boys reunions. All seemingly good ideas from the outside until you realize everybody is the same but older, grumpier and a little off-pitch.

This weekend was my 10-year high school reunion. I thought about going, but then I remembered what high school was like. I probably had an average, or slightly below average experience in high school. I wasn't popular, of course, and that makes for a difficult 4 years. I had some highs and lows. Highs included being part of the dance team and that one time the popular boy accidentally called me when he really meant to call my friend. Lows included getting stuffed in a locker (yes, that happened) and performing the duties of being the "look out" during make-out parties.

You know, I have been trying to recall my funniest high school memory but nothing comes to mind. It would really make for a better blog post, though. Sorry folks. Oh wait, except for that that time I had detention and the varied group of us became friends and then Judd Nelson turns out to be a sensitive guy despite his rough exterior.

But I'm not sure that really happened to me or if I saw it somewhere...

My memories are a wash of not bringing the right book to class, stressing over dances with wait-I-thought-we-were-going-as-a-group-of-girls-but-now-you-all-have-dates anxiety, losing the ability to form words in front of cute boys and not making the cheerleading squad....again.

I guess it's good to not remember specific, horrifying events. Because I'm sure I had lots of them. I'm sure I told my mom my life was absolutely over a bunch of times. It was not easy being the teacher's favorite in all the lame classes - like French, Religion and Peer Leadership. That's just not how you win friends (although I will tell my kids it is) (and Mike don't you tell them different, Mr. My Name Was Written On The Wall Of The Girls Bathroom).

Anyway, I'm sure at these reunions all the pretty, popular, mean girls will have gotten fat or ugly or become completely socially inept. And I don't want to go and make any of them feel bad. Revenge has never been my thing.

And on the off chance that they are even prettier, more successful and happier than ever...well, I can't drink. And no one can make me deal with that sober.

Aw, You Even Picked Up My Mail For Me

Whew! That was a long break. It's good to be back. I see you left my mug where I like it.

Did you move that picture? No? I did? I don't remember doing that, but if you say so...

*Note to self, lock the door next time I leave*

I'd like to say that I intentionally took a break from blogging. Like the real celebrities. Or that I entered rehab and had to wear an ankle monitor. But no. Alas, my absence was not as glamorous as that. Here's what really happened - I got knocked up. And I got sick from it. Probably not as bad as some women get sick, but bad enough that I was sure I was dying. And oh, Mike. Poor, sweet Mike continuously talking me down from ledges. Continuously convincing me that I do not have listeria poisoning or yellow fever or that the baby is not half chupacabra slowly clawing it's way out. And don't worry, that's normal. And don't google that..or that...or for the love of God, back away from the computer!

But I am slowly coming back to reality and society. I'm getting over my buyers remorse and am getting used to the idea that there are going to be three of us now (I mean me, Mike and baby. Not twins - I made the Dr. look twice because I thought there was no way I could be in this much agony for just one tiny human). But sometimes I still don't know if I'm old enough or ready enough to have a kid...good thing I'm going to start with a baby, right?

Being pregnant is a funny thing. Albeit sometimes frustrating because I have all the symptoms of being pregnant but I don't look like it yet. Therefore, it's hard to explain why I'm so tired and go to bed after the 6:00 news. But, as one of my favorite bloggers advised, if someone gives you a hard time about being tired all the time, just say "I made a person's inner ear canal today. Without my hands. What did you do, paperwork?"

Well, I had better get going. It's nearing 8:00 and I just can't keep my eyes open. I've got a nervous system to form. Thanks again for the flowers and the warm welcome back. It means a lot. I won't lie, it's bordering on creepy, but it's nice. Thank you.