I Was a Teenage Weirdo

"Nah, I wouldn't go.  On second thought, yes, I would go.  It's probably the only time that all of the people I really hate will be gathered together at the same place - and I can finally blow them all up."
- A quote from my twin sister when I asked her if she would go to our High School Reunion

 Now before you run to the police station and accuse my (obviously very bitter) sister of attempted terrorism - I just want to say - she's only kidding.  She's a proud mother of two and isn't going to ruin her life (or anybody else's) by blowing up our High School class.  But she pretty much sums up how a lot of people feel about going to their H.S. reunion.  As you have probably already guessed, my reunion has rolled around.  *It's been 10 years already?!*  And a bunch of memories have been flooding back into my mind.  Being nerdy for two years.  Coming into my own for the next two years.  Making new friends and being terrorized by new enemies.  Situations that I wish I could do over and things that I'm glad I did right the first time.  The blood, the sweat and of course the gallons and gallons of tears.  (Sidenote: Regardless of everything I've said, I will take the worst of my H.S. years over my best day of Middle School any day.  Middle School is a hell that no human being should ever have to experience.)

So I'm trying to figure out if I should go.  Why?  I have no idea.  I only had 3 real friends in H.S. and I have hung out with 2 of them pretty much since the day I graduated.  There's really nobody else on my radar - and I doubt that I'm on anyone's radar, either.

Sidenote:
Actually, me and my sis argued about this a little.  She says that people will be expecting - even hoping - that we show up.  And ironically, within 5 minutes, I received an email from the President of our class saying she especially wanted me there because we belonged to the same sorority.  I was surprised and horrified at the same time.  (And yes, I joined a sorority in college.  Why?  Because deep down inside, I'm a glutton for punishment, lol.)  So one might argue that my sister is right, but I think people have more of a fleeting Facebook interest in me.  For example, a couple of months ago, I received a friend invitation from a girl I went to school with (she was my neighbor for years and one of the rare people that was nice to me in middle school) and she asked me what I was doing with my life and extended a few pleasantries.  I accepted her invitation and told her what I was doing and asked her the same thing but received no response.  In fact, I just found out two days ago that she'd deleted me from her friend's list.  So I guess it was a quick and nosey way of seeing what I was doing but nothing beyond that.  And to be honest, I'm not upset or surprised.  That's what Facebook is about.
End of Sidenote  :-)


I would be lying if I said there's not a part of me that wants to go back and "dazzle" everyone with my new-found confidence and "great dressing" ability and impressive resume (that still won't land me a job in my field - but nobody has to know all that!  ;-).  But I know this idea would only work in the imaginary world of a 15 year old, desperate for acceptance.  In reality, it would be like getting all gussied up to go to Spain and run with the bulls.  It's only "fun" in theory.  In reality, it's a dangerous blood sport that leaves the dead and injured in its wake and the only real joy is making it out alive.  LOL - I'm being extra.  Let me reel this back in . . .

Moral to Story:
It's really not that serious. I was a weirdo in school, but now I've grown into a (still weird) but hot swan - if I do say so myself - and I didn't really like the people that I went to school with.  If I went, essentially, I would be paying 30 bucks to hang around a bunch of people that I would have paid millions of dollars to get away from 10 years ago.  I wish them all the best, and I'm sure I'll be be seeing pictures of those folks on "the book."

On a lighter note, here's what it would look like if I went to my H.S. reunion . . .








(CLASSIC!)

I Could Use a Hug . . . and Maybe a Cheeseburger

So today, I had a mini breakdown.  Here's how it all started...

A week ago, I got an email from my supervisor (from a seasonal job) asking me if I could come in and help him with an audit.  I gladly agreed to come in, because with all of the insurance stuff and the sudden popups of invitations to hang out with friends (more on that later), I could use the quick buck.  I got there and the first thing he asked me about was the insurance gig that I took on in NJ.  I tried to defend it the best I could but my colleague saw right through it.  "Don't you feel like you're moving backward?" he said.  And there it was.  I died a little inside.

For the rest of the day at work, I filed papers and looked at Youtube videos of people - most of them younger than me - living my dream.  For the rest of the day, I thought to myself, "What the farfutnoogen have I been doing wrong?  How come I get an idea to do something and then just sit on my ass and not do it?  Are all of my failures stemming from laziness, or just a fear of trying?"

Now I know I've written about this before, but . . . I dunno . . . after today, I just really got angry and to tell you the truth, I'm still angry.  I guess it's because I have no one to blame but myself.  It doesn't help that I just got my 10 year high school anniversary invitation on FB today.  I'm feeling like I'm running out of time.  I'm feeling like I need to really hustle and make a major move.  Like Japan style . . . you know, get on an airplane and as one of my best friends would say "get sh** done."  But it's like, I just picked up this insurance gig.  I need the money and it would be hard for me to get things done if I didn't have some disposable income.  Am I sabotaging myself?  I have a pre-test to take tomorrow and then the real test to take on Friday and I haven't studied one bit.  (I'm staring at the insurance website right now.)  Wtf?!

What I really want to do is write.  I want to write and produce/direct and edit for TV.  I worked as an editor at a dead end job for 6 years before moving to Japan to free myself.  But now I'm back and I have a ton of ideas and have even written them out.  I have the camera and equipment.  But actually taking the time to really commit is something that I have never done and I don't know why.  Actually, I do know why.  I expected to make a break-through using the connections and experiences I cultivated at (what turned out to be) that dead-end job also, I am full of fear.  Pure, unadulterated fear.  Either way, I'm just having some doubts about myself.  I guess everybody reaches that point in their life.  And the boyfriend is even worse off than I am.  He has the time and the money but no idea where to start or what to do.  (It doesn't help that he's a major procrastinator).  But the closer and closer I get to signing the contract with this company, the more it feels like falling out of an airplane with a broken parachute. This is that part in the movie where someone grabs me by the shoulders and says "Pull yourself together!" after of course, slapping me in the face.

So that's where I'm at right now.  A quarter life crisis.  (Actually, it's more like a third life crisis)  *shivers*  Don't get old kids.  And by old, I mean 28.