Because my 30th high school reunion is next month, I’ve been (once again) trying to figure out how 30 years have changed me.
1. I now know what the definition of crepey skin is, and I don’t want to talk about it. Aging. It’s happening in so many ways. It has affected my eyesight, my hearing, my memory, the texture of my hair, my bones, my sleep habits, my wit, and my ability to eat sweet potato pancakes with abandon.
2. I’m no longer hermetically sealed, yet I don’t reveal my inner sparkle to many, and that sounds a bit dirtier than I intended. Unneighborly on the outside with an unexpected devilish nougat on the inside! Pair with soft pretzels and goopy cheese! Better yet? Lebanese nachos.
3. I have eight more holes in my head than I did back then. Luckily, none of these holes were received involuntarily. (Have I mentioned lately that I’m incapable of owning a gun? Not because of background checks, but because I KNOW MYSELF. I’m way too squirrelly.)
4. I have super powers that are currently being restrained by a faulty transverse and descending colon.
5. I dress differently now. In 1988 I was all about cardigans and long button up shirts with rolled jeans and oh shit you guys.
6. I don’t play the piano as well as I used to, and the French horn hasn’t been out of its case since 2014. BUT I have a flute playing daughter and a marimba playing daughter, so that part of my heart is still full.
7. My high school memory book says that I wanted to grow up to be a record reviewer for Rolling Stone. That didn’t happen, but I DO come by here to tell you what I’m eating and thinking! That’s something, right?
8. I never went to prom or homecoming, not because I was a “I won’t dance, don’t ask me” Baptist, but because I was a “guilty feet have got no rhythm” introvert. I’m still a “guilty feet have got no rhythm” introvert, but I’m learning that I don’t necessarily HAVE to use my feet, and dancing in the carwash is a simple pleasure that nobody can deny.
The other day, I put on a turquoise baby doll dress that I purchased last Spring from Anthropologie. I paired this with leggings, hiking boots and a cardigan. This is exactly the outfit I was wearing in 1993.
Everyone is going to wanna hang out with you at your reunion.
Carwash story: a friend cares for her 7-yo grandson after school many day a week. The last time they happened to go through the carwash, she said, “Look at how big that fish is!” Grandson: “There are no fis– Wow, it sure is big!” as soon as he figured out it was still Okay To Play Pretend With Grandma.
You go girl.
Rolling Stone is so old school. You’re a blogger. That’s way more modern. Also – you have definitely posted music and book reviews (as well as knitting pattern reviews) in one form or another for many years now. SO – mission accomplished, I’d say.
At least you still have your French horn. I sold my sax on eBay in 2008.
What’s weird is that I can still find DCI stuff from 1989 and 1990 that our high school band used to use to prepare for competitions. We actually performed the folllowing to win a series of midwestern competitions in the late 90s: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_2FIRs8F7U. We used to watch this for HOURS.
I was in the drum section, and these guys and Phantom Regiment from Illinois were like gods to me and still are. If your kids listen to you (long shot) and are at all interested in playing music in a way that’s difficult and meaningful, DCI is still out there and daring people not to suck. It’s hard to believe that the only people here that don’t also march are the ones playing in the pit (note to your daughter) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFgvdz17IQs.
I think you will appreciate that I read the instrument bit as you having a flute that’s playing the role of your daughter, as well as a marimba that’s playing the role of your daughter. Grammar fun! :-)