September 17, 2007
Blacklisted
Something quite distasteful arrived in the mail over the weekend, my darlings. It was an invitation to my 20th high school reunion.
Mind you, I'm not disgusted by its appearance because I can't believe it's been 20 years since I was in high school. It has certainly felt like 20 years, and indeed, the more time I put between myself and that most nauseating of eras, the better.
No, I'm merely horrified by the number of bad memories it awoke it my brain, which usually prefers to keep itself occupied with thinking about what I'm going to have for my next meal, fantasizing about my chiropractor, and figuring out which box of crap to list on eBay next.
The list of people on the Reunion Committee itself is a list of People Who Didn't Know Wenchie and Hated Her Anyway. It's difficult enough to be different in high school (the horror!) -- try being different and poor.
And by "poor" I mean "my parents were still married and my mother didn't work, so there was no need for them to placate their guilt by buying me every damn thing I wanted." Yes, welcome to Poor Town, indeed. Population, me. Living in an affluent neighborhood is difficult if your parents don't stake their own self esteem on flaunting their affluence.
So yeah, weird and "poor." Add to that the rumors of lesbianism and sluttery, and I wasn't exactly in line for Homecoming Queen. Apparently, I was attempting to disguise my closet lesbianism by sleeping with every male in the school who would have me.
Which is ironic because there was only one male in the school who would have me. My boyfriend of a year and a half, which hardly makes me a slut. The rest of the guys, I don't know, thought it would be cool to date me briefly and claim to have had sex with a lesbian? Such a badge of honor! Best porno plot ever!
But I digress.
I'm certainly not going to the horrid event. Rule of thumb being -- if I didn't like them enough to keep in touch with them, why the fuck would I want to see them now? Also, I had many more friends in grades other than my own, i.e. Heather.
I am, however, filling out the little questionairre and mailing it back. My personal info will go into some little directory that all attendees will receive at the door (and all non-attendees can purchase). I will not be purchasing one; however, I have this morbid curiosity to see if some blast from the past might drop me a line.
Mind you, I have no desire to see any of my old flames. And they'd better not be stupid enough to contact me, lest I get ahold of their phone number and/or email address. I'm a petty, spiteful woman, and no score is too old to settle.
It would just be funny if some freak I haven't talked to in 20 years decides to drop me a line. Bloggably funny, hopefully.
In addition to the usual information, the Reunion Committee wants to know my favorite high school memory. And honestly, I'd have to say it was getting to miss my graduation ceremony because I was accepting the Illinois Poet Laureate Award from Gwendolyn Brooks.
(Oh, c'mon, like you didn't write poetry in high school!)
But that would sound too much like I'm rubbing my quasi-celebrityhood in the faces of all those fuckers who blacklisted me from the poetry magazine just because I threw a Coke in WG's face during lunch period. He totally had it coming! You should have heard what he said to me! I'll give you a hint -- it had to do with spelunking and my vagina. See? Had it coming!
Hmmmm, maybe that was my best memory...
Or perhaps it was the time that MM pulled my hair during Art class, so I punched her in the face, and the ring I was wearing cut her lip, so I looked like a total badass! That was awesome. People I didn't even know were congratulating me. That bitch had it coming for a decade.
She was really nice to me after that, in typical, cowardly bully-fashion. But her boyfriend wasn't too keen on me, so I was blacklisted from the V-show ensemble cuz he was Junior Director or some such shit.
Jesus, what didn't I get blacklisted from? Oh, yeah -- track manager. My friend, DB, wanted to meet hot junior and senior guys, so she made me be a manager for the varsity track team with her. Ironically, while she was flirting to no avail, I was learning how to tape up an ankle really well, to the point that several key hotties wouldn't let anyone but me tape their ankles.
One uber-buff, highly sought-after shotputter was actually interested in me, but my grades started slipping, so Mom blacklisted me from managing track.
I sense a trend.
I guess I'm going to leave that part of the questionnaire blank. Which, in itself, pretty much sums up exactly how I felt about high school. Thank God I'm an adult now, so I can surround myself only with people who think I'm cool and pretty.
Comments
Thank God I'm an adult now, so I can surround myself only with people who think I'm cool and pretty.
I'm so signing up for that entourage.
I didn't go to my own 10th year high school reunion, but I'm planning on going to my 10th year college reunion and really looking forward to it. High school sucked, but I loved college.
Posted by: Mickey at September 18, 2007 05:33 AM
Not only are you cool and pretty, but one of the funniest people I know. Screw the reunion...they don't deserve the wench.
Posted by: Vicki at September 18, 2007 11:39 AM
I think you should totally put the poetry award thing. You don't have to write 'missing my graduation'. Just put down getting the award on your last day of high school was memorable, that way you can rub it in just a tad...and not lie:)
I didn't mind high school but I've definitely done better things since then and have way more happy memories of post high school life. I didn't go to mine either. It was being held at a sports bar. Along the highway. Classy stuff.
Posted by: Hope at September 18, 2007 03:39 PM
Ah, yes. Spelunking...
At least I did not get punched in the face like MM otherwise I might not share the diet version of your favorite projectile with you...
Posted by: WG at September 19, 2007 09:16 AM