Superstar!

Well...it's official. We are a forever family. I hope Dub realizes what he is in for. An eternity with me. I am loud. I flail my hands in outrageous gestures while I talk. I'm obnoxious. I'm always right, and even when I'm not I will insist I was testing you. I have strange hair.
I have come to terms with the fact I will have to look at the back of Dub's head while he plays his world of warcraft for eternity. I think it's about even.

I'm asked if I feel different now that we are a forever family. I have not had a good answer for this question until now. I don't think I feel any different. I don't think I am supposed to. If you're doing things you ought, then it's not a big adjustment. I am, however, more aware of my religion...due to an extra layer I am becoming accustomed to. I was unaware that religion needed to make me sweat. I wonder how inappropriate it would be to include that in the talk I am more than likely to be giving in the next month.

Well...that's that. I'd like to bare testament for just a second and thank my family and friends for all the support and love they have shown us. You all know who you are. You are reading this right now. You have loved and supported this little family for the past 6 years and have helped us get where we need to be. I am forever in your debt. I am glad I got to share this experience with the people I am closet to. I suppose I do feel different...there is now a bond that will never be broken between us. This was something we shared together and I will always cherish it.
I am done talking.

My feelings can best be summarized with a monologue from the made for tv movie, Cybil, staring a young Miss Sally Field as a woman with multiple personality disorder.
"'Aaaw, Look at you. My pretty little girl. Sitting there with her face all painted, you're nothing but a little slut.'
'Don't say that--I'm a lady senior.'
'You're nothing but a little SLUT Cybil-ann. I'm not a slut. I'm not a slut. I'm not a slut. I ain't no SLUT!'"

Best Hair

This is me.
Senior at Fremont High School. Class of 1998. My future so bright, I had to wear shades. I graduated and headed for my dreams.
Now 10 years and 10 lbs later, I head back to reunite with my classmates from way back when. This would be a 2 night event.

Night one: Ice cream mixer at the school.

First things first. Look fabulous. This would require me to purchase a new shirt and naturally new shoes. This event is for Alumni only so sorry Dub, you get to stay with the dub-lings. So dressed to impress, I head to the old Alma Mater. Upon entering the common room, I was greeted with warm smiles and immediately handed a name tag. This is good because faces may look familiar, but names....well... Hello, my name is. I was a little concerned when my tag would not stick to my fancy new "naavy blue tuxado" shirt and ended up with my name on my mid-section. Problem solved.
I would like to take this moment to thank my little brothers for forever labeling me "Chadwick's sister." Yes...this is how I had to phrase it.
Now, in my opinion, I haven't changed too drastically. Hair yes.. but the face is mostly the same. And to my amazement the thing I heard the most was "Wow. Fun hair." Which roughly translates to "Holy crap. What is happening on your head." This is not new. And I don't care. So suck it Trebek. I like looking like a pokemon character. Yes, I am comfortable with that. I am enlightened. I am Jack's sense of rejection. --Tyler Durden.
In high school, I was not in the A-group. Nor was I in the B-group. I was definitely not in the C-group. I was more of a drifter. During lunch, class and social events, I would buzz from group to group, making appearances and moving on. I found that this event was much the same. Each group found each other. As groups formed, gave hugs and caught up, I found myself bouncing from group to group. Each one commenting on my hair and asking how many kids I have now, where I live and what I do. I made my rounds, made my jokes and left on a high note.

Night Two: Plus one for dinner at Maddox.

Turkey fried steak. I don't have it often, but I do enjoy it.
More name tags. And tags for the plus one. Meals with long-lost classmates and their spouses are interesting. Especially if you are sitting with someone you rarely spoke with IN high school. This was my situation. We ended up surrounded by people I really hadn't spoken with much outside of English class. After small talk about the potato and rolls, it was time for the slide show. This consisted of our individual senior photos blow up much bigger than they were ever intended to be. Some people had sent in family photos or pictures of themselves piloting planes. I did not take that kind of initiative. OOPS!
Our evening ended with a large group photo and the singing of the school song. This was a lovely idea in theory, but all anyone wanted to do was chat. That's what these things are for right?

My thoughts will be summed up like this.
High school is weird. No one knows who they are at 18. You leave and spend the next 10 or so years becoming who you will be. You make a life for yourself. You leave the past and head for the future. While the past has an important role in who are and what you will become, most of it will be shoved in the far corners of your mind. Until, of course, that day when you are required to recall names and faces of your past. It's awkward. It's uncomfortable. It's familiar. It's comforting. Somethings never change. People grow up.
For 2 days I have been required to remember faces from the past, and how this will apply to my future I don't know yet. I guess I've got 10 more years to figure that out.
I'd like to leave you with this quote from Grosse Pointe Blank, which I watched in succession with Romy & Michelle's high school Reunion in preperation for this weekend.
"You can never go home again Grosser...but I guess you can shop there."

My Space is for 12 year olds.

I had a my space account.
I'm tired of it.
It's another way of adding drama to your life.
I'm tired of drama.
I'm ending it.
It's not me...it's you.

There are 2 kinds of people in this world.

Those who like Neil Diamond and those who don't.

I have a few minutes here to tell you all about the Old Man Band on Friday.
It was glorious. A bit chilly, but I would have gone in a snow storm.
All my boys were there. Paul, George, John and Ringo...Johnny, Shades and best of all Neil.
Papa had the band learn a song just for me. Baby loves me...yes, yes she does! It has also been decided that the lovely and talented Eris and I will be singing backup next year. Cherry Cherry!!