123Valerie Strikes Again

Unprecedented Self-Indulgence.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

The State of the Reunion

At least 10-15 times a day, I think to myself, "Val, you should be taking notes for your novel. This is surreal."

And then at least 11-15 times a day, I think to myself a little hazily, "Now, what was it I wanted to remember to write down?"

Have you ever been in that place? So much going on and yet ... nothing at all. Not a whiff has changed, at least on a topical level. Maybe, though, the change is fundamental, like the magma flowing and churning below an ever-steady, calm crust of earth.

Speaking of red-hot, flaming things, I have a bit of a confession that I might as well tell you, my pretties -- I'm thinking of transforming my red locks to a strawberry blonde. My vermillion hair, well, it's starting to feel like a gimmick. I mean, I adore it and it adores my skin tone and eye color and blah, blee, blah, bloo.


It may, or may not be (or may) that my impending 10-year high school reunion is coming up in a matter of weeks. I'm blessed tho, kittens, because all of the people from that particular high school with whom I wished to keep up, I have. And the rest, I trust, will be pleasant surprises. Or, at least, my boob dress will be a pleasant surprise to them and, thus, we will all be happy with my boobs.

I don't know. I hope so. I'm pretty sure, anyway.

I'd be lying if I said I weren't a bit nervous. I am.

We all want to be our best selves, don't we? And it's easy to be your best self when you're surrounded by friends and fambly who love you. But when you have to tangle with that kid from study hall whom you asked out and who told you no, and then you have to see him 10 years later when maybe a lot of things in your life are less-than-settled ... well, that's no fun.

But if redheads are tempestuous, and blondes have more fun, then, Good Lawd, ya'll better be on the lookout for Hurricane Valerie to hit Northeastern Ohio soon.

Yes, a change of haircolor seems like a good plan in the midst of all of this adult angst.

Tell me, boys, what's the male equivelent? This whole freak out about seeing people from the past. Do you all shave lightening bolts into your chest hair? Or get highlights? Rent hookers? Or buy new cars?

I could use some guidance because I am at once in love with the idea of connecting with people from my fairly distant past that I accidentally missed the first time around -- and also scared shiny.

In the Comments Section, tell me about your high school reunion and/or something you did recently that scared you shiny.