What kind of man wears Armour hotdogs?For the love of christ, I'm facing 4 whole days without internet access this week. My mother's computer, last I recall, was on the fritz. And there aren't any internet cafes in my hometown. This will only make worse the fact that I'm headed upstate to have thanxgiving scrambled eggs with said mom, attend a baby shower for my best friend, and make an undoubtedly drunken appearance at my high school reunion. Why am I going, you ask? Because unlike the rest of my classmates, I'm not overweight or divorced or saddled with three children from three different men. This puts me at a distinct advantage. No, I'm not famous or successful, and honestly, I'm still in contact with the folks I wanna be in contact with. But still I RSVP'd because I thought, hell, I am as goodlooking as I am ever gonna be, and goddamn if I won't light up the Ghent VFW like a motherfuckin' firecracker. It's a sad, pyrrhic victory that I am going to my reunion simply to gloat. I should know better, having spent the better part of my high school career being gloated at for not possessing the charm, the worth, the perfect spiral perm that all the popular girls had. Now that these popular girls are big and desperate and old, I should show some sympathy, shouldn't I? I should be the bigger person, right? I'm sorry, I cannot. Also, I am going to see what the men look like. I mean, I ran into a couple of guys from my class last time I was home and they looked mostly the same, only more bloated. And married. To much younger women. I want to see what they're up to. And why no one ever asked me to the prom. I remember chatting with one of the guys from my class a few years back in the local bar. "All of us thought you were pretty," he admitted, which was news to me. I made him buy me a shot of JD for reparation. If he is at the reunion, I will make him buy me at the very least another shot, maybe 3. And I will make him dance with me to "Melt With You." I talked with one of my girlfriends last night about what we should expect. She's thinking of wearing an argyle sweater she just bought from J. Crew. I'm thinking of doing a more Joe Coleman sorta routine, wherein I show up and pretend to be someone from my class who died shortly after high school and then end the evening by exploding the firecrackers I have strapped to my chest. That, to me, would be satisfying. I suppose I should pick out something blousy to wear.
Posted by Dana at 10:00 PM
|
Shit from an Old NotebookI've seen your HS picture, and can't believe that you didn't get asked to the prom. Oh, wait, people are assholes.
If it's any consolation, I got stood up for the prom - "emergency" knee surgery that somehow didn't cause a limp a week later.
Posted by: notsnot at November 25, 2003 12:48 AMJoe Coleman is from my home state, a city where I held two jobs (baker and bookstore clerk)as a matter of fact, which is justification enough for becoming a tortured artist.
And why no one ever asked me to the prom.
I was asked to the prom. By a mildly retarded girl who used to follow me around when I worked at the local Edwards supermarket (I was later arrested at that same supermarket, but I digress). I mumbled something about being busy and scrammed. She was put up to it by an acquaintance of mine.
I didn't actually want anything to do with all that stuff. I even wrote "Bomb The Prom," on the walls of the stalls in the boys room. I was pretty much alienated from all that kinda stuff, which is odd because the females in my family are in love with it. The other male (Dad) is noncommittal. It must baffle them how they popped out someone like me. Hell, it baffles me.
I went to my 5 year reunion back in 1994. I was still living at home. A guy I used to know(who enjoyed wearing one clear and one tinted contact to amuse himself) was refused entrance because his girlfreind was only 17. I got drunk and annoyed the date of one of my old feinds whom I havent seen since. On the plus side, I was still skinny and had my hair, where a few guys had gotten fat and bald already.
I've had too much caffeine. Sorry.
Posted by: jonmc at November 25, 2003 01:19 AMIf you're going to go all Coleman, don't forget to geek a rat. Or the assistant principal. Whichever.
Posted by: n/c at November 25, 2003 09:07 AMI would recommend dressing like an expensive slut.
Posted by: maccers at November 25, 2003 09:38 AMI would recommend dressing like an expensive slut.
I'm torn between that and "sophisticated bitch."
And notsnot, I actually had a pretty fun prom weekend, all in all. I went out to Martha's Vineyard and ate acid. (Hi Dad!)
Posted by: dana at November 25, 2003 09:55 AMI went to the junior prom and enjoyed it. I didn't go to the senior prom because, well, I'd stuffed my girlfriend into a wood chipp--errr...make that "broken up with her." (Comments are archived, right?)
So a bunch of us had the Anti-Prom Party. "Rejected & Dejected '93" was our motto. We then crashed all the after-prom parties and had a great time.
Posted by: Vidiot at November 25, 2003 11:26 AMBlousy is a weird word.
Posted by: brittney at November 25, 2003 11:58 AM