It has been 30 years since I graduated from high school, and tonight is our reunion. To put it into perspective (because I’m mad for perspective), if I had given birth to J.K. Rowling on the night of my high school graduation, she would currently be finishing up on the first Harry Potter manuscript. Also, Adele is 30. Rhianna? 30.
Do you know who isn’t 30? I’m not. I’m just a few weeks shy of 48 and I’m no longer giving birth to anyone, mainly because I paid someone named Cory to remove Uterus and The Endometriosis-Dipped Fallopian Brothers nearly four years ago. (That event is still going strong on my Top Five Best Decisions list.)
This is a photo taken at my 20 year reunion.
I didn’t yet need glasses or daily medication. The wrinkles around my eyes had nothing to do with aging and everything to do with Carefree Whimsy, as evidenced by the fact that I was going sleeveless in a Here’s My Cleavage dress and not looking the least bit sober.
Last weekend I turned to one of my more ridiculous apps to see if I could gain some inspiration for this evening’s look.
Hhhhhhhhh.
This morning I realized that I forgot to break in the shoes I purchased for this evening. They are flat canvas mary janes because I am as clumsy now as I was 30 years ago. Remember last week when I fell down and ripped my knee up in the high school parking lot? A similar thing happened 32 years ago, but the fall involved stairs and me looking something like this.
Anyway, I have the shoes on right now, both of my legs are asleep from my feet to my knees, and here’s hoping this sentence isn’t going to serve as foreshadowing.
Along with breaking in shoes, here are the other things I forgot to do:
1. Lose those damned 10 pounds that everyone talks about losing before events that involve seeing people you may not ever see again so who really cares? (I really care. Actually, I just sort of care. I 17% care.) ((I 28% care.))
2. Write a novel that served as a ticket for meeting Willie Geist, Salman Rushdie, and John Irving. How can I mention that “I just finished up my book tour.” if there is no book with which to tour?
3. Med school.
I am watching The Pioneer Women as she smashes the hell out of a chicken while declaring, “I am a big fan of chicken skin, I have to say.” Could this be the metaphor I was waiting for? Let’s say Yes. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
I like elephant skin. Mostly because I have it and I like me. I pick the top look for the reunion.
If it makes you feel any better, you are several months younger than me.
Only several though. Don’t get cocky.
‘Cory’ is a prime example of why you should never learn the first name of the person cutting you open to extract stuff.
Also, when The Pioneer Woman says that stuff, I take it as insight into the fiery chasm behind her perpetual smile.