So…I wasn’t going to write about this, but I haven’t written in while, so I figured, I’m annoyed enough, what the hell? My ten-year high school reunion is next month and the head of the let’s-get-together-and-reminisce-about-our-puberty committee is trying to get me to go.
Just like ten years ago, I have NOTHING in common with these people. They all have husbands, kids and houses now and clog up my Facebook feed with photos of what domestic bliss looks like and how much happier and in love they are then me. I don’t need their looks of pitty because I have none of that. My priorities greatly differed from their’s this past decade, which should be acceptable, but…
People from Bakersfield have a certain expectation of what you should obtain and by when. I don’t have a white dress, insurance, or a mortgage, so what the hell have I been doing dicking away all my pretty years??
I’ve (mostly) enjoyed the past ten years. I mean, I could have done with a little less douche-tastic guys, but I’ve studied a bunch of cool subjects, met celebrities, read a lot of books, traveled, gone to Vanity Fair parties, and enjoyed frequently shopping at stores nicer than Kohls.
And let’s go back to high school for a moment, shall we? High school was awesome for, maybe, 10-15 people. They are all still friends and want to relive the four best years of their lives. I would love to ask them, if those were the best years of your lives, why bother going on if you know it’s not getting any better than that?
I hated high school. No one liked me because I was “too intimidating.” Imagine, me, intimidating. HA! No one wanted to talk about old movies or creative writing…there’s, like, 3 gay dudes in Kern County, they’re the only people who care about that kind of stuff. Thank God Smaptie liked comedy so I had some relief. And hating on people with my AP Bio teacher (who I’m still friends with) helped as well. Yeah, friends with my teacher, automatic popularity right there.
And lastly, if I haven’t talked to you in ten years….chances are pretty good that I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t need to spend $40 on a ticket just to get drunk and talk shit on people with the ONE person from high school I still talk to.