Well, maybe not a whole TOWN....maybe just the thought of my high school reunion. High school reunion called malice...
(I dare you to make a fucking musical out of THAT, Disney)
Nancy recently was talking about her upcoming High School Reunion. Year 20. How she dreads it, even though I don't think she is going. This spun my mind to thinking about MY high School reunion and how it is next year. Also year 20.
Now, at year 10 - 1998 - I was 3 months post delivery of Emily. I had a shiny new baby. I had a still somewhat shiny newish husband. I had a decent job in my field. I had been published. I felt pretty damn good. I looked all right, for having monstrous nursing boobs.
In addition, I had no alcohol tolerance. Two glasses of wine and I can only recall snippets of the evening. Suffice it to say that at one point, I do recall saying "So, too bad I wasn't voted most likely to marry the only black guy in Vermont..."
Not long after, I think Terrance cut me off.
After reading Nancy's post, I was in the car with Terrance. I was telling him about her feelings - and by extrapolation - MY feelings.
This is when I announced my real intentions.
"I plan on going to my high school reunion to show how AWESOME I am!"
This got his attention. He stopped ignoring me and perked up. "What?", he said.
"Me..... AWESOME...... I plan on going to my 20th year reunion to show how AWESOME I turned out... Suck on that Be-iotches!"
He frowned at me.
Now, it has been long agreed upon in my house that Terrance IS the better person. More responsible. Kinder. Polite. Selfless.
Not me. I am the person to yell "Suck on that, be-iotches" at people. If I could peel out and splatter mud on them, I think I would.
"Dawn. First of all, what do you have to be so boastful about being awesome? and secondly - you plan on going back and telling people that you have been holding some sort of grudge for 20 years and you hope their lives suck? Really? I can't believe that you are so petty."
I turned and stared at him. About 70% of the time, I back down at this speech. I mean, it IS petty. I should be far more adult than this.
But, like the scorpion on the back of the frog.....I can't help it. It's my nature.
On this day, I rose to the challenge.
"I have an awesome internet Empire. I will be 3/4ths of the way to my PhD. I may not be skinny but I fucking rock. I mean - my shoes ALONE! I live in Montreal for Christ sakes! I'm smart and funny and I win at life! I know it's petty, but I don't care. I have these people etched in my MIND. I know their names. I have a mental list!!!"
He sighs, deeply. He has never understood this need of mine. However, his is the ignorance of being one of the popular kids. He was liked by everybody. His high school life was smooth and uneventful.
I, on the other hand, mentally took down names. There are people I would like to corner in a dimly lit room and lord my awesome-ness over them. Of course, in thinking about this I wonder....Am I on someone's mental list? Was I the person someone else marked down as wanting to have a talk with - 20 years later?
So, while the many-years-in-therapy-adult in me knows I should mingle and be gracious and warm, for these people have stories I did not know, reasons for why they did things they may have done, life experiences which may have damaged and scarred them...the 18 year old has some names on a list and she has had 20 years to perfect her proof of why she is better. Smarter. Funnier.