Surviving Your Class Reunion

First I should put in the disclaimer, if high school was a miserable experience and you would rather gouge out your eyes than see any of those assholes ever again?  Just skip on by this post.

For the rest of the population, let's talk.

Most people agree that the five and ten year gatherings are a waste.  Everyone stays in the same circles they did in high school, no significant mingling, no happy memories.  Wait until the twentieth.  Enough time will have passed  that people break out of their teenaged roles and have actually grown up.  Memories fade, names escape you, and you are available to make new friends.

Me?  I was a wallflower in a class of 500.  I knew only my very small group of friends.  Of course I knew the names of the popular kids, but I was never one of them.  At my twentieth I was surprised, no wait, ASTONISHED people knew who I was.  They remembered me.  Me?  What the hell?

Then came Facebook.  Oh buddy how this has changed the world.  People I NEVER knew in high school were becoming my online friends.  They were commenting on my woes, cheering my successes, and liking my pictures.  It was, and is, pretty cool.

This weekend was our thirtieth class reunion.  How am I even old enough for that?  Thirty years?   Since high school?  Me?

A year ago the date was set and eventually the plans came together, most of it done through the miracle of Facebook.  Word did get out to those not online.  Excitement was building, this was going to be awesome.

On Friday, twenty of us gathered at the high school for a tour.  There were no surprises for me walking through the building, I had worked there not too many years ago.  What did surprise me was this vivacious woman bounding up to our crowd, hugging EVERYONE, and introducing herself.  I found out later she had been a cheerleader.  At the mixer at a local restaurant we crowded into a party room and squealed as new faces arrived.  I was introduced to the cheerleader's circle of friends and suddenly I was having deep conversations about toilet paper.  I still felt a little stifled trying to mingle with the other clusters of people and kept returning to a safe zone.

Saturday was the official event held at a winery.  It was a gorgeous venue on a gorgeous day.  I charged up my iPhone and decided I should try to get a picture with each person.  I don't know where this inspiration came from but I rolled with it.  Once I started walking up to people saying I wanted to get a selfie with them they cheered my idea and started snapping a few of their own.  I actually did manage to walk up to every person there although my pictures didn't prove that.  I'm sure my drunk thumbs missed the button a few times.  It didn't matter.  It got me off my ass and away from my table, not that I had anything against hanging with my two best friends, but I see them all of the time.  It truly was fun and that stupid act of trying to get pictures with each person was a fabulous ice breaker.  My favorite line was from Jack who said "Hi I'm Jack, I think we graduated together."  Why, yes we did!

Afterwards we had a room reserved at a nearby bar.  The band was loud, the room was crowded... are we getting old?  Close to 100 people managed to squeeze into the tee-tiny patio, escaping the loud band inside.  More laughs, more mingling.

I have spent the last two days adding more friends to my Facebook list.  Okay, they're only acquaintances, but who cares?  We have a shared bond for having sat in the same football field on a Tuesday night early in June 1984.  There is a shared bond and maybe, just maybe a few new real friends have been discovered.

Reunions come in many shapes.  I don't have many memories to reminisce, I didn't attend grade school with any of these people, no childhood antics, so reunions have to be something else.  For me, on this round, I made new friends.

Friday Fragments - December 7 2012

How is everyone's holiday preparations?  Ours are kind of on hold as my son's wedding is next week.  I try not to think about things like this because I blow them out of proportion with anticipation.  It's really exciting but if I don't focus on it then I will be able to enjoy it even more.  The surprise of how the day will unfold will be a million times better than anything I could ever concoct in my head.  And I'm one of those people who gets disappointed if things don't go as I anticipate - so I've taught myself to stop anticipating.  It took a long time to learn that and even longer to make it happen.

Chicken strips seem to be the epitome of bad eating... hmm... maybe it's hamburgers... so chicken strips are a close second.  But I have to say I do like eating them.  What I don't like are the pressed meat variety.  I want a genuine hunk of meat, batter dipped, deep fried.  As we contemplated dinner one night I quipped I wanted chicken strips.  And that's what we did, but homemade ones.  They were fabulous and I want to make them again.  We used boneless breasts, cut into chunks, dredged and floured like regular fried chicken.  It was faster than traditional fried chicken, especially with these mutant huge chicken breasts available in the grocery store.   I feel almost brilliant for  making them.  It's the basic stuff, isn't it?

What was the last movie you watched?  It doesn't matter if it was in a theater.  In my book a movie watched in any venue counts.  Cable, online streaming, and movie rentals have opened a whole world of  entertainment to us.  For me cable is relatively new.  I didn't spend my teen years in the 80's watching MTV videos because my parents were sheer evil, denying me this basic NEED.  I do regret not seeing all of the videos my contemporaries saw, but I definitely appreciate the access now.  Instead of catching up with all of the videos from my deprived teen years, I'm now watching more movies than any civilized person should.  I'm watching the full gambit of Oscar contenders to crappy B films.  And I'm loving it.  It's only a phase which one day will pass.  Oh I will eternally love the film medium of telling a story, but this obsession with movie marathons will l eventually subside.

As I write this To Kill A Mockingbird is playing.  The Teenager is reading this for English class.  I suggested that if he wanted to boost his grade to ask his teacher if he can write a paper comparing Mockingbird to the Sand Lot.  He looked at me like I was crazy - more work???  He knows he needs to do some extra credit, but I added that teachers LOVE compare and contrast stuff like that.  Is that cheating?  Knowing how teachers think?  It's just bizarre enough he might do it.  We'll see...

I think this has been a fairly random post - definitely the stuff of a proper Fragmented Friday!

Friday Fragments - January 3, 2012

Okay, everyone bellyaching about the loss of winter?  Denver is currently getting pummeled.  Quit yer bitchin' and appreciate the pleasantness.  I have never heard so much negativity around something so beautiful.  How about a few doses of gratitude?  Savor what you've been given instead of worrying about when it will stop.  Anyone who can bitch about a beautiful, sunny day is not capable of being happy.

It is a glorioius day and I love it.

******

Yesterday I met with my son's English teacher.  It's a little late in the school year to be holding a parent-teacher conference, but hopefully early enough in the semester.  He's just not grasping certain concepts so in order to be a better tutor I had to find out what she's presenting in class, how she tests and where to find more information.  It was a productive meeting and now she knows I'm on board with getting this kid through her class. 

And while he's bombing English, he just signed up for Honors Geometry.  There is not a chance in hell that I will be able to help him in that class.  I remember telling his brother and sister when they maxed out my knowledge and would have to seek tutors for any assistance.  The look on their faces was priceless - I really DON'T know everything.

******

Dear Daughter,
Beware of your 45th year.  That is when hormones will start to kick your ass.  Sleepless nights, random sweating, weird periods, bursts of energy, complete lack of energy, grogginess.  I think forgetfulness is a symptom, but I've been suffering that my entire life so I don't notice.  People are telling me this will last at least five years.  Yippee.  Oh, and gray hair.  You do know you're doomed to a life of coloring or else changing into a silverback?
You've been warned,
Crazy Cat Lady In The Making

******

Yeah, I actually had to leave work because I was so groggy.  Honestly, it hasn't been too terrible, but the sporadic nature of symptoms is annoying.  I wish I could find the triggers or patterns so I could at least have a little preparation or be able to say to myself "aha, hormones going insane, time to lie down."

******

I still haven't made a pie like I keep nagging myself to do.  No, I went the easier route by making a Pineapple Upside-Down Cake.  I swear this is easy-smeasy.  After baking several where you make the cake batter from scratch and not really liking the cake itself (I mean come on, shouldn't the cake be delicious before you add all the gooey stuff?) I found an easier solution. 

So here is my secret to fabulous Pineapple Upside-Down Cake
LEMON cake mix - any brand.  You'll also need 1 can of pineapple rings and 1 can of pineapple tidbits (in natural juices not syrup), brown sugar, and whatever stuff the mix requires like oil and eggs.

Start off by spreading an even layer of brown sugar on the bottom of your pan (the springform pans are awesome, but when I'm super lazy I use a 9x13 and just don't flip it out of the dish at the end... which is a lie because I have flipped a 9x13 onto a platter and then slid it back into the dish with the pineapple slices face up).

No, I did not melt butter or spray the pan.  Just an even layer of brown sugar, not so thin you can see the pan, but not too thick that you have to pat it down.  It might be 2 cups, maybe less, clearly I just open the bag and start shaking it out.  Since there's no goo in the pan you can scoop out any excess.

Drain the juice from the slices and tidbits into a cup because you're going to need it later.

Arrange the slices into a pretty design on the brown sugar.  If you have maricino cherries you can pop them into the picture too.  I don't because I never have them on hand.

You're ready to mix the cake.  Replace the water with the drained pineapple juice.  Go a little lighter than it says because there is still a ton of juice in the pineapple pieces.  Add the eggs and oil as specified on the box.  Once your cake batter is free of major blobs stir in the pineapple tidbits.  Do not use "chunks" because they are just too large.

Pour it in the prepared pan and cook according to the directions.  Once you hear the timer, turn off the oven, but leave the cake in there.  It's still too jiggly in the middle.  I keep telling myself I should put foil on the cake to get that center fully baked without burning the edges, but I always forget.

This is a very moist cake (even when I burn the edges) and the lemon cake mix is a perfect blend with the pineapple.

Hands Off

Back when I worked at the elementary school this came out.  It's sort of lame especially since they rolled it out with a big fluffy bear, called KAFOOTY.  By the way, these catchy phrases only fueled the adults with something new to say.  The kids continued being their dopey selves.

So a few weeks ago I was at my son's practice and spied this flashback.

Work or School?

Yesterday morning I encouraged my thirteen year old son to suck it up.  I understand how much going to school every day really sucks, but honestly, schlepping to work sucks even more.

Fabulous words of encouragement, no?

When I arrived home from a dull, boring day at work (okay, not quite so boring.  I got to cannibalize a laptop to retrieve a hard drive with important data - total geeky fun).  So anyways, when I got home, Ian was sound asleep. 

What would cause an active thirteen year old to pass out cold?  Nah, nothing chemical.  How about gym?  Running 50 meter sprints wore him out.

So, okay, once I left school I never ever had to run laps or sprints for any reason.  I may have jogged down a hallway for an emergency, but not because some brute with a whistle was barking out orders.

Maybe school sucks more than work.

Science Fair

Dear Science Teachers of the World,

I effing HATE science fairs.  Parental involvement, in my book, should consist entirely of questions like "did you do your homework before I got home?" and signing permission slips.  This bullshit of nagging a 13 year-old know-it-all into transforming his meager science report into a presentation filled with color and four-part harmony really pushes me over the edge.  Now I have to listen to Mr. Chats-Non-Stop rattle on about trebuchet catapults, one of many doohickeys I really did not need to etch into my gray matter.  I'm still trying to forget everything I learned about neoprene rubber during a stint at the World's Worst Job Ever in 1992.

This science project, up for competition against projects made by kids who care with competitive spirits?  It will surely die an unglorious death.  We can only hope the baking soda volcano will somehow trip an electric circuit and cause a minor fire in the gymnasium (hopefully not damaging the new floor replaced after last year's leaking roof).  Unfortunately it will not resolve the problem of the miniature, bottlecap launching, trebuchet catapult residing on my son's dresser.

Sincerely,

Slackass Mom




PS.  I hate science fairs.

Cold Weather Tirade By An Indignant Thirteen Year Old

"Tirade" might be a stretch as only little girls can pull that off properly, but he was quite indignant just the same.  I mean, how dare the school district allow children to attend school in such weather????   I explained that below zero temps are not reason enough to cancel school.  School cancellations are reserved for times when the roads are too treacherous for the buses to maneuver.

Well!  It's just not right!

He was hopeful yesterday with the billowing snow.  He kept constant check on the district website, hoping that a cancellation would be announced.  He woke up early this morning to check the TV with the scrolling list of OTHER districts ever so generous in excusing their students.  He didn't want to hear that their cancellations were due impassable roads, that plows hadn't reached their remote areas.  Nope.  Surely those lucky children were enjoying a day in front of the TV because of the extremely low temperatures.

NOT FAIR!

And to top it off, *I* am the world's meanest mother for making him go to school!

Geez Louise.

I didn't bother explain to him all of the times I had to attend school in the bitter, unfair cold.  Or all of the times neighboring school districts and any school beginning with "Saint" was called off and I still had to traipse to school.  At least these days other county schools, except those beginning with "Saint", usually all take off at the same time.

I also didn't bring up the age old story about walking to school in two feet of snow, uphill, both ways.  There is actually quite a bit of truth to this as my elementary school in Oregon was at the top of a hill with roads too narrow for a school bus to maneuver.  We were always released from the bus two blocks away from the building, at the bottom of the hill.  The sidewalk had a metal rail (probably lead pipe) to guide us during slippery conditions.  And when I went home I was released at the bottom of another hill, not quite so far away from the house, but I still had to trek uphill for the second time that day.  And the hill where we lived NEVER was plowed meaning I was walking in snow up to my knees.

Suck it up, kid.  I had it worse.

First Day of School 2010

I really never put much thought into snapping a picture every year, but I should have.  This year my youngest is starting eighth grade.  EIGHTH GRADE!  Just not possible.  Wasn't it just yesterday he was starting fifth grade?

?????

He slid out the door before I thought to pull out the camera so we'll have to relive years gone by.