Tag Archives: high school reunions

You never know what will come in the mail

yearbook_button_150

The other day I received a mysterious envelope in the mail that had an odd lump in the middle. I opened it and out dropped the button above wrapped in a flyer. Yes, that is my High School yearbook picture on that button. No joke!

Personally, I find this a little creepy. The idea that a classmate of 30+ years ago is scanning the yearbook and industriously making these odd buttons in his free time is just a bit staggering. The flyer had a line I love, “The 30th reunion was not well attended because hundreds of classmates were not able to be notified of the date”.

Um, no pal, the reunion was not well attended because lots of people are fat and bald 30 years later or perhaps they simply don’t want to see the kids from ‘the old neighborhood’. Believe me, I attended the reunion with my 3 best friends and we had lots of laughs. But seriously, the crowd was a little scary.

You know, there is a reason we lose touch with many people from high school.

Me, I have certainly lost a huge chunk of brain cells somewhere along the line. People would come up to me and put their hand over their nametag and say, ‘I bet you don’t remember me’. Hey good bet, I have no friggin idea who the hell you are sistah! Seriously folks, when you go to a reunion, don’t play that game. As much as we all want to believe we look the same as we did as teenagers, or worse that we were truly memorable to everyone that sat next to us in math class, we just aren’t.

So, would you join the yahoo group listed on this button?

Me, think I am going to pass. Facebook is enough of a walk down memory lane for this old chick.

 

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Filed under absurdities, friendship, humor

Crosby, Nash and the fat guy sitting behind me

Have you ever been to a concert where the guy behind you insists upon singing EVERY word to every song?

Poorly.

Yeh, well that was the guy behind me last night at the David Crosby and Graham Nash concert. This friggin’ guy thought he was headlining! Imagine the big galoot belting out the words to Our House like a high school girl for G-d sake! “Our Houssssssse, is a very, very very fine Housssssse…”

Jeez bud, give me a break. For the ticket price I would prefer the traditional Crosby/Nash harmonies over you reminiscing in my ear, thank you very much.

It was an otherwise nice nostalgic show. But for some reason it took on the feeling of a Twilight Zone episode. When we first walked in my friend asked me if I had this odd feeling that we were at a terrible high school reunion. I looked around and realized that we were in a crowd of some of the sorriest looking souls I have seen in a long time. Hey, we were absolutely gorgeous in this crowd! (not a bad thing).

We took a walk to the outside deck before the show and suddenly this women started talking to us as if we were old friends. Donna was her name. Let me preface this with the fact that both Ellen and I have this personality trait that makes complete strangers spill their guts to us. Unsolicited, I might add.

Before we knew it we had good old Donna’s life story down. Two grown kids, widowed, took her kid to see Crosby and Nash in ’86 – partook in some questionable activities that led her son to grab the wheel when she was driving, legal secretary – semi-retired, fat stomach that caused her to hike up her pants and ask us if we had issues with our jeans falling down (I kid you not), loves salsa music prompting her kids to call her ‘Mambo’, lives in Queens, does not like the subway, refuses to learn how to text message and was trying like hell to get us to go back stage with her to meet the band. 

Ooooooo boy, this was one surreal episode for sure. Our husbands came outside to find us hanging with good ol’ Donna and did not quite know what to make of her. Honestly, we were kind of into Donna. She had an ‘I don’t give a crap about anything at this point of my life’ kind of way that was actually quite refreshing. 

Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a post about the annoying fat guy singing behind me? I suppose this post took the same direction as the evening did.

Organic, in a bizarre sort of way.

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Filed under humor, music, rock 'n roll