Ok, I didn't. But my high school 25th reunion is tomorrow and I'm totally in Romy and Michelle mode.
Somehow I was roped into being part of the planning committee for this thing, which is actually a good thing. I'm feeling rather motherly about it now, sending out invites, etc. Having this tiny bit of responsibility will hopefully keep my lushy party girl tendencies at bay tomorrow night...we're having it at a tequila bar, for God's sake. If I have to stand at a table checking people in all night chances are slim that I'll be able to stumble up to the bar as often as I normally would during such an event.
Our 20th reunion landed smack dab in the middle of My Big Fat Fake Reconciliation summer. I put my wedding ring back on, slapped a smile on my face and walked around effusing the joys of my life to people I hadn't seen nor heard from for decades. It was like wearing big fake boobs. I felt like a poser, an impostor.
But not this year. Over the past 4 years I've been through adultery, separation, divorce, foreclosure and bankruptcy. And head lice. Walking into a class reunion sounds like a walk in the effing park. The fact that I am now Jenny, SuperSized doesn't bother me at all. Once you find out that the person you had oodles of babies with and who holds your retirement funds in his name has been humping a secretary, you realize that things like being silently judged aren't that big of a deal.
Besides, thanks to the sick and wrong wonder that we call facebook, and this blog, most of the people I'll be air kissing and laughing with tomorrow night know all there is to know about me. And I them. This whole airing of the dirty laundry thing is very liberating.
So tonight I will be coloring my hair, catching up on the new season of Dexter and enjoying a fine glass of Trader Joe's Three Buck Chuck merlot (still haven't renewed my license but a kind and empathetic fellow boozer took pity on my ass and gifted me with a few bottles) while getting myself into "reunion mode". I'll also be trying to figure out the best way to camouflage my hamhock arms and front butt. Not that I care, but still...you never know who you'll bump into at one of these things.
Hopefully I'll get some interesting blog-fodder out of the deal.
Like I won't, right? Let's hope it's juicy.