Bling bling--Take off the Class Ring!

As always, life goes uber-fast. The 30th reunion has come and gone, a blur of fun and fever. Seems like it was just yesterday that I was putting the class ring on in order to generate interest in joining the class reunion antics. On the other hand, it seems like I'd been on the planning committee for about seven billion years. No matter--the reunion has come and gone...and, boy was fun had by all.

Before I departed to join the crusty ol' alumni in the burbs of Chicago, I received an email from Spotted Owl....of which I must share snippets, as it literally made me snort out loud. Spotted owl made suggestions including but not limited to:
"1. No matter how tempting it is, stay off the disco ball."
"2. Doing your bust a hip dance move from the past may just bust a hip this time.....this also goes for shoving yourself in a locker."
"3. You must pick a date to officially retire your class ring...."
"4. Remember that your friends that you would likely call for bail money will probably have already hit the hay for the night, so plan accordingly."
"5. Even if someone double-dog-dares you, do not, and I repeat, do NOT cross the toe fault line when you bowl. They put some major funky was on those lanes and you will end up doing a move that you had no idea you could do. But, wait--that might also require a trip to the chiropractor."

I can assure Spotted Owl that I did indeed stay off the disco ball (which was hard because the DJ was spinning some great music) but I cannot say I stayed off the bar (I was only on their during "Vogue." You can't Vogue without hopping onto the bar, can you?). I don't think I pulled any muscles but I really did have a fever, so that probably kept me from doing stupid-injury-producing dance moves. I took my class ring off late Sunday after the festivities. I did not need bail and I did not cross the foul line.

For those of you who were worried, fear not: I maintained my vegetarian status despite visiting the world's best hot dog joint. Take a gander at the photo collage above to see said hot dog/french fry combo. Now, THAT'S a hot dog. Mustard and french fries. NO KETCHUP. They don't even have ketchup in the place. Throw some salt on those fries and get over it. Skip trying to keep the fries and hot dog separate--it's a package deal--just eat the thing with the fries on it. At the risk the owners will sue me for zillions of dollars (this blog IS international, I am sure), I am posting a photo of me holding a bag of grease--er, I mean their fries--while standing in the inner sanctum (which you can see consists of a counter that is older than me and that hasn't been cleaned since I was five years old). Yes, a bag of fries, grease oozing out the brown paper bag. I figure they were semi-vegetarian....probably fried in giant vats of animal fat, reused and reused since the opening of the place. Okay, so maybe I am no longer a vegetarian. Hard to say.

You haven't lived until you've eaten a rubber dog. Trust me. How can you not love a hot dog that crunches?

Yeah....I think I'll remain a vegetarian and leave the rubber dogs to the wife.

The reunion weekend included many events: a bowling bash (hence, the cosmic bowl look of a peer), a tour of the high school (which was very interesting and quite warm-fuzzy-ing), an actual reunion and a brunch (of which I missed because I was still recovering from the stupid fever thing I had going on). I'm not sure how the hell I am supposed to capture all that in one measly blog entry; heck, I can't even come close to doing it justice. I'd post a bunch of pictures (a picture is worth a thousand words, right?), but it'd take me forever to block out all those faces. Besides, you would miss half the fun of seeing the bubbly look on everyone's faces. (Be my friend on Book de la Face if you really need to see a photo journal of the antics.) The bowling bash was made all the more special because my parents, sister and niece were part of the fun (they are alumni--well, not the niece but who's paying attention to that detail?). The tour was super special because I got to leave my purse behind in the band room (which still had that awful band room stench it had 30 years ago). And, the reunion....

....well, the reunion was off-the-chart fun. Unfortunately, I look rather vampire white in the photos, as I really was sick. I had the chills and a fever and an ear ache and.....I didn't have time for that nonsense. I sucked it up, took a boatload of Tylenol, and forged forward. I didn't wear that class ring for months on end for nothing. I didn't harass people daily via my status updates in an effort to generate interest. I didn't shave my legs and pluck my chin hair for nothing. The excitement knocked that fever right out of the park and I was able to dance on the bar--er, I mean catch up with old friends--at a blistering, fever-free pace. (To anyone who is now sick due to my presence at the reunion: I humbly apologize. I am a selfish pig that gladly shared her germs for her own selfish gain. Send me your Tylenol bill and take comfort in the fact that it only lasts about 48 hours.)

There is something about seeing the "mean girls" from high school....who probably really aren't mean any more but just seeing them scares a little squirt of poop out of you. Well, the mean girls walked in--together, of course--and they still had had a smidgen of bullying power over me. How crazy is that? Mean girls that I haven't seen in 30 years still freaking me out! I got over it quickly....and, it turns out two of them came up to me (individually) and thanked me for organizing the event. I was speechless. Another even sent me a book de la face thank you message. Speechless squared.

Sorry to say--One of the pack was still a bitch. Can't win 'em all.

Thirty years later and I still enjoyed being around the people that made my high school days special. In many cases, the only thing that changed is that people were standing in the doorway because of a hot flash instead of teenage angst hormonal outbursts.

Well, and that we are fatter and grey-er.

And so, the class ring has been removed and safely tucked away....for another ten years. Or, should we make it five? Bling, bling.....I already miss my class ring.......