High School Reunion? No.


My ten-year high school reunion is now. Initially, it’s a shock to think it has been a decade since I graduated high school. Makes you really sit back and flip through your memory catalog: am I where I thought I would be by now? Did my dreams and goals stay the same? Did the people in my life stick around? Did I really ever use all that algebra I was told I would? Why don’t smartphones have the Snake game on them? Oh my God, I like beer now!


Then I hear from one of the very few people I still am actually friends with from high school. (Like, the real definition of “friends”—she was a bridesmaid in my wedding friend)

“Hey, Tab, did you get the invite on Facebook for the ten year reunion?”

I vaguely remember getting it maybe…ignoring it like I do those God awful Farmville and Bubble Candy Cocaine Crash or whatever the hell it is requests. (Seriously, stop.) In the ten years I’ve been out of high school, not once have I ever even considered attending a reunion when the time rolled around.


**Now, I want to put a disclaimer on this before I go any further. I know I have a lot of people I went to high school with that read my blogs and the following thoughts I’m about to go into are not meant to be offensive or geared towards anyone specific. Nor is this meant to be the generic thoughts on reunions/high school. Lots of people love the reunions, loved high school, and that is awesome. The following is only my personal opinion on these things, so please take it all with a light heart. 🙂 **



The Top 10 Reasons I Will Not Ever Go to a High School Reunion:

 1.)    I think this one totally speaks for itself and sums up this entire blog post.


2.)    I was voted Class Clown on the long list of superlatives that never even made it into the yearbook. Now, the people in my life adore the clown aspect of me. Back then, it was a surefire way to never get asked to prom. And to always be the comic sidekick to the pretty girls that all the guys wanted to date. I’d rather stick with my current peeps who will genuinely laugh at my jokes than be reminded of a time when I second-guessed the value of humor.


3.)    I didn’t go to prom. I wasn’t asked and I didn’t want to spend my hard-earned money from working at the grocery store 40 hours a week to buy everything necessary to attend, only to end up having a complete Carrie experience. Can’t bring myself to do it now either in the grown-up version of Prom: “The High School Reunion”.


4.)    I really, really, reallllllyyyy don’t want to relive the daily cafeteria panic attack that was: “Oh my God, where am I going to sit????!!!”

You know I had to use this gif. HAD TO.


5.)    I’m horrible with names and I would feel absolutely terrible when I most certainly don’t remember about 99% of people’s monikers.


6.)    Part of me is strongly suspicious of the whole reason behind a high school reunion. “To see everyone and reminisce!” No, that doesn’t make any sense. If we really ever cared about each other in any aspect, wouldn’t we have kept in touch on more than a facebook or linkedin level? I even stay connected with my old teachers via social media. If you haven’t made a meet-up happen with these people in the last ten years, then why would you want to party with them? Granted, there are people I do have casual and pleasant contact with from high school online and if I ran into them somewhere, I would be more than excited to chat—but I am pretty sure the feeling is mutual that in busy life, things are okay staying just that arm’s-length way. Regardless, I have more excruciatingly bad times than good from high school and the LAST thing I want to do is cross THAT troll bridge of “nostalgia”.


7.)    The torture of small talk—ten years later. “Oh, you live in Ohio now? It does snow a lot.”  No.



8.)    Traveling is expensive. Whether you live out of the country, out of the state, or even out of town, when you spend the money and precious, hard to find time to travel back home, family and good friends should get the 100% dibs on your company. Life’s too short.


9.)    Oh, hey it’s YOU. The person who pulled my chair out from under me in freshman homeroom, cheated off my tests thinking I didn’t know it, always picked me last in gym Battleball, and nicknamed me Camaro Hair. Oh wait, you are an utter loser now!!! I value my character and don’t want to throw in your face so hard how karma is awesome. But see, I won’t be able to do that when reunion and vodka is put together. (And by the way, Joe Dirt is DAMN cool)


10.)    There’s not going to be enough booze there to survive it. There’s just not. It’s a fact.



Actually, now that I think about it, there is ONE reason I would go. ONE. This:


Summer is NEVER Coming


I’ve got to go a little Southern-ness on you today, folks.


My mind is all messed up. It’s May 2nd and it’s 50 degrees outside. Just to remind you, I grew up in Georgia where there are basically three seasons: Winter, Rain, and Mercury. Winter lasts about two months normally and we don’t dance with the whole negative degree thing. Rain is pretty much all of March, April, September, and October. And Mercury is sunshine and temperatures of Hell for the rest of the time. By this time of year, I’m used to Mercury.


In the Great White North where I currently reside….I guess I will name this season…The Matrix. Because it’s technically spring and this has all got to be something unreal and that I only 1/3 understand while looking around with a “what’s that smell” face. (Much like what happens when I attempt to watch the Matrix movies) I keep telling myself NO NO NO, it’s not real, I’m going to wake up anytime now and be laying out in the sweltering sun in my backyard after packing away every coat, every long-sleeved item, and every pair of pants I own! But in reality, the Oracle (a.k.a. Mother Nature) is saying, “Joke’s on you, girl. Enjoy the snow I’m giving you as a 4th of July present.”


When the sun actually does come out, it’s all a mind game. Oh sure, it looks like it’s a pleasant 70 degrees outside, but when you walk out there in shorts and a tanktop—refusing to believe what weather channel claims is 38 degree weather presently—your skin pretty much turns blue and you run back inside with a fun little onset of hypothermia.


I’ve become desperate. I’ll actually go to the tanning bed salon and lay for way over the time I need to, just to purposely burn myself so that when I go outside, I feel warm and toasty regardless of the temperature. This is my rain dance, dammit! Give me my summer already! What do I need to do? Sacrifice a sheep? Maybe the blood of a virgin or the rights to my firstborn? When is this going to end?!!!


The freaky winter that won’t end seems to be this way all over the country, so it has me thinking: is this global warming? Wait, what exactly is global warming? Should I stop using hairspray? Well, that’s silly, I can’t stop using hairspray, I need my 5 inch bump for my livelihood…

Then I drop into these really “realistic” musings: Is Game of Thrones really our reality now? Is Winter really always going to be coming? Are the White Walkers on their way? Maybe this is Narnia. Maybe the whole world just fell through a wardrobe one Saturday night while we were enjoying a live band and a few rounds of drinks at the Buffalo Wild Wings and now we are stuck in the White Witch’s neverending icebox of a retreat…


I want to take a second and remind you that I am a fiction author, so I assure you that this chaotic and slightly weird train of thought is totally healthy. Totally. Totes McGotes healthy. Really. No, really.


The point is, it sucks. And there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. So how do we cope?

Well, lots of Netflix, whiskey, and fuzzy Christmas socks, that’s how.


Remember, when life gives you lemons (or freezing temps in May), make lemonade (or a Long Island Ice Tea).

The Night St. Paddy’s Day was Over by 10:56 p.m.


First of all, let’s go ahead and praise Jesus that I’m still alive and not yet the victim of my mailman.

Moving on…

Today is St. Patrick’s Day—a Monday. Which means those of us that have stupid jobs that won’t count St. Paddy’s as a national “Let’s-Be-Off-Work-Today-and-Tomorrow-to-Nurse-the-Green-Beer-and/or-Whiskey-Hangover” holiday, we had to celebrate this past weekend.

My hubs and I celebrated on Saturday night with some of our dearest friends and I think we all had a reality check when we realized just how different the celebration of our favorite saint becomes when we have to play grown-up. We were home before 11 p.m.

Which, while a tad bit embarrassing to admit, you still get a fun list!

12 Ways St. Patrick’s Day Shenanigans Change When Adulthood Takes Over

1.)    If St. Paddy’s is on a weekday, shenanigans no longer consist of boozing it up in your green glitter face paint until 4 a.m., taking an hour nap, and managing to get to (and easily survive off 2 red bulls) your 6-hour workday at Pac Sun. Now, Boondock Saints on Netflix, Longjohn Silvers, two Bud Lights full of green food coloring, and a 10:00 bedtime is what jigs your inner Irishman.


2.)    You are so exhausted after work, that you jump on ancestory.com just to see if you have any Irish in you that warrants you to have to surpass an early bedtime in order to have at least one green beer.


3.)    Wearing green eyeshadow or green socks is enough to make you feel like you satisfactorily celebrated this year…unless you’re a ginger, which means you win at St. Paddy’s Day with absolutely NO effort.


4.)    Irish car bombs are traded in for Irish coffee or Bailey’s on ice. Or maybe a Shamrock Shake from McDonalds.


5.)    There is no way in hell you are paying $40 for a full leprechaun get up. Suck it, Party City. I’m on a grown-up, bill-paying budget now.


No. Just….no.

6.)    Unless you live in Florida, the entire “Let’s Dress Like A Slutty Irish Bar Maid” has lost all appeal. It’s winter time which means you’re wearing pants to avoid pneumonia.


Now THIS is more like it.

7.)    You order at least a couple drinks that involve a “wake-me-up” mixture (i.e. red bull and vodka, coffee and whiskey…) Why? Because frankly, you can’t remember the last time you weren’t tired, and St. Paddy’s Day is no exception.


8.)    You have an excuse to eat the shit out of those green-frosted sugar cookies that are excluded from your “My metabolism stopped working once I got a mortgage” diet…

9.)    …which leads us into #9—you give up Lent for St. Patrick’s Day. Nice.

10.)  You skip the tanning bed/spray tan just for today. How honorable.


11.)  You retire your old “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” college t-shirt, knowing that your health insurance won’t cover the medical bills you’ll rack up after that drunk guy with herpes plants one on you at the pub.


12.) Drinking starts early, which means you’ll be in bed before midnight and that 8 hour sleep time makes you the winner of no hangover for two days this year. BOOM!

Yay, SLEEP!!!!!

Happy St. Paddy’s everyone! I envy those who can still do the 24-hour pub crawls in their green body paint without the promise of back pain and migraines later!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to plop a spoonful of green food coloring into my glass of Pinot Grig and do some laundry while listening to Mumford and Sons. Oy oy!