Highschool Reunion

When I handwrote this out, I started with "On the Horizon I've got a pretty sizable event heading my way...".  Now that I'm actually posting this, the sizable event in question is actually tomorrow.  The 10-year-mark of highschool graduation and reconnecting with my class.  I'm not sure if I've avoided talking about it (or RSVP'ing and paying for it, to be honest) because I was stalling for more time, pretending it wasn't coming, or if I really am just that busy.  In any case, it came whether I was ready or not and here I am looking through my photo albums and trying to pretend I'm "super psyched!"

"Holy sh!* she actually graduated..." said most of my family.

It's a curious thing, that I'm so concerned.  With the advent of social networking making it easier than ever to find people from your past, most of the people I sat next to in German class, had a locker beside or brushed past in the hallway can already ascertain how much weight I've gained (then lost, then gained, then lost, then gained, then lost...), know the names of my children as well as their ages (and their hobbies, fears, pet peeves...), how damn sexy my husband is...

...What I do for work...

...What my house looks like...

And more!

Such as my love for Fringe being so intense that I frequently place fedoras on my bald baby's head and giggle maniacally.

So why the tension, the anticipation, the angst?  Facebook and this blog have me more open to the world than...<insert analogy here because every single one I come up with is insanely offensive>.  Granted, I'm not friends with all the people I graduated with, so some of the things I have to say might be fun and new, interesting, worthwhile.  Chances are, however, if I'm not friends with them on the world wide interwebs, I won't be chatty enough in person to discuss my life, just as I wasn't in my teen years.  I suppose without knowing me, there might be some unspoken questions of my apparent lack of having grown up.  No "career", no boat, no trips to Mexico (or Germany, or Ireland, as I'd be more inclined to do).

I mean, there's always that I don't do this stuff anymore...as far as Facebook knows...

Without reading my witty one-liners, seeing all the adorable photos of my babies, how are they going to realize how awesome I actually am?  Despite the impression my writing may leave on a person, I'm a poor communicator when it comes to face-to-face endeavors.  The likeliest scenario is me pouring back beverage after beverage while others regale me with their lists of accomplishments and life experiences, as I nod and smile.

Um.  I gave birth?  What up, y'all.

In a hospital bed...

Three different ways, no less!

....At home on land... (For more excellent pictures like this check out jessicakruegerphotography.com)

...And at home in the water.

I've taken so many college courses I've probably earned a few bachelors degrees.

Can I say I'm a writer now?

I've fallen in and out of love with different areas of study more times than I've taken pregnancy tests.  (Come on moms, you know how many we take.)

Probably have taken care of some of their grandparents, or their spouse's grandparents.

There's always reminiscing...but I wasn't involved with too much to reminisce about.  Didn't do sports nor cheer them on.  Didn't do many dances (though there was this one...)

I kept to myself.  No one bullied me, I didn't bother anybody else.  I kind of questioned being elected to the Snoball court (fancy dance, see above.)  But I dressed up and killed it, so jokes on them?  I was pretty unremarkable, back then.  From all that I know about these things, it's likely I'll revert to my teenage persona and take on the role that I held back in my school days.  I'll be shy again, the popular kids will huddle and giggle and whoop their way through the evening, the stoners will probably skip class the event, the perfectionists will be dressed to the nines and probably helped plan the entire thing, the jocks will be sitting at the bar watching ESPN.  I'll still grimace when I see the people I didn't get along with, I'll still feel a deep sense of relief when someone I know walks in.

<This is me trying to stop myself from putting up pictures of the people I disliked.>

Somewhere deep down (not too deep, actually just under the skin) I want to completely turn that trend on its head and be the me of today, no regrets, not too many fears.  I've done a complete flip since graduating and spinning the full circle may incite some motion sickness.  I want to slap on my sassy pants and unabashedly own what my life is in all it's twisty-turny, wibbly-wobbly (I love you Dr. 10) baby-drool-and-spit-up covered glory.  I'd like to say I'm a mother above all else, a wife to a man thirteen years my senior who probably looks better than 75% of the men my own age who will be in attendance, an aspiring author of books you'll never want to put down, a caregiver and a lover of challenges.

I suppose if all else fails, alcohol will do wonders for my courage levels.  Ok.  The backup plan as of two minutes ago: shots for them until they forget how dorky I am, shots for me until I man up enough to open my mouth.