High School Was The Lemon. Life Didn’t Hand It To You.

I recently had my 10 year high school reunion.

What. A. Nightmare.

Let’s not mince words here; I hated high school for the most part. I was bullied relentlessly all through elementary school – only ever having one or two friends – which lead to a poor social life all through my formative years. Granted, I did have more friends once more people were attending my school. These people didn’t know what a ‘loser’ I’d been as a kid unless they quickly succumbed to the arrogant asses I’d spent those first few years enduring. Nonetheless, I happily fell into step with those who didn’t care they were smarter than most as well as the ones who metaphorically told everyone else to fuck off if they didn’t like what they said and did. Quite the combo, right? Worked for me. I was smart and jaded. Anyway, I went through school absolutely convinced I would be glad to get far far away from the idiots in my school.

Well, as our reunion approached, I began to hear rumors. Then those rumors were confirmed and I grew concerned. I had already purchased tickets because several of my friends had previously discussed attending the reunion, though no definitive plans in either direction had been made. I just hoped most of them would stick to the original, albeit rough, plan.

Oh, the rumors. Right. Well, our committee in charge of the reunions (wonderful people, let me tell ya) decided to bail. They not only bailed, but they disappeared off the face of the planet. In a time where EVERYONE is connected through social media, these people went as far as deleting their facebook accounts to ensure they would be hard to find. Not only that, but the funds our class worked so hard to build in school were mysteriously non-existent. The entire event got piled onto one person. This is a person who I actually didn’t hate. We were never really close, but she also never mistreated anyone to my recollection, no matter their differences. Her entire family was actually quite involved with the school. Well, I found out that this girl had taken out a personal loan to fund the reunion. Then I found out that a classmate was planning on creating a random playlist and that would be our music for the event.

Now, I had already paid more than $50 to attend this shindig, and the fact that there would be nothing more than a computer controlling what we listened to pissed me off. I was connected with a few DJs in the area, so I offered to ask for some assistance. I even found someone willing to donate the funds for said DJ if someone was available to further lessen the financial burden on this girl. Though I made it VERY clear that it was not a sure thing, but simply an idea and that they should all proceed as planned unless I told them otherwise. They both agreed.

Well, when the DJ I was in touch with failed to find a sub for his regular gig, I informed the two from my class who were involved. Neither of them responded for nearly a week. They waited until the day of the reunion to say something. “Wait a minute. I thought this was a done deal. I didn’t bring any of my equipment with me.”

Now, just in case this was truly my fault, I went and re-read my messages to him. Nope, there was no mistaking what I said. I made it clear that he needed to proceed as originally planned unless he heard otherwise from me. That never happened.

Now we’re in a bigger jam because he can’t read. So we’re now 4 hours from the start on the reunion and the best thing we have in an iPod, but no speakers.

This was even worse. So what did I do? I pulled every string I had. I got equipment. I got music. I figured it all out for these people I didn’t really even care about. My husband ended up running the music. How much does THAT suck?

Now, being the givers that we are, we kept smiles on our faces the whole night while the douche canoes I survived through school spent the night hovered at the bar, despite our best efforts to get people dancing, or even requesting music. Every effort just seemed to make the bar tender more and more money.

Then came the cherry on top. The girl always known to be…well…less than proper, requests a song. The first request made all night from someone other than those in my group. Fancy. Of course. It’s a current popular song, and it is pretty catchy. But then we got the spend the next three and a half minutes watching her and one other girl on the dance floor rhythmically opening and closing their legs and gyrating on each other. All I kept thinking was, “while most of us also have that incredible ability, we typically save it for the bedroom.”

I really shouldn’t have expected any less from these people, but there was one thing that just made the entire night not even slightly worth it…

We paid for two tickets to attend the reunion and mingle with old friends. Not only did my husband spend the whole night at a computer not participating, but this was the FIRST event I have attended in my ENTIRE life in which the DJ was not publicly recognized or even thanked for his time. We PAID to play music for these ungrateful asshole and all we got was a Facebook message, “Tell your husband thanks for doing the music for us.”

Well fuck you very much. My husband is so much more patient and forgiving than I am. You bitches did me wrong for 13 years of my life. Now you’ve wronged my husband too. Fuck. You.

And while I’m sure it goes without saying, let me make it crystal clear that I will not be attending any more reunions for my class. Maybe, MAYBE, some day down the road when there is a multi-year reunion I’ll consider going. But as long as these people are the ones in charge, they will not get another dime of my money. Fuck that.

Now, if you graduated high school after me, let me let you in on the big secret: reunions are dead. They are now pointless. Social media had taken away any real need for a reunion. Those who want to keep in touch, do. Now, chances are you’ll run into a few cool people you’ve lost touch with, but for the most part it won’t be worth it. It’s just an expensive night out during which you’ll be looking at a bunch of people you’ve chosen to not stay connected with. Dumb.

I really needed to get that off my chest.

Birthdays. Blah.

Birthdays. They can be one of the greatest days of a person’s year. They can also become a stress inducing nightmare.

Most people will tell everyone that they should do whatever they want for their birthday. I’ve been told that as well. But like the old saying goes: actions speak louder than words.

I just got my first home. Moved in two weeks before my birthday. Typically I would go out somewhere, invite everyone, and party. This year I’m exhausted from moving and really didn’t want to do much of anything. Not to mention people are expecting a house warming party within the next month.

I can’t afford to be feeding people all the time and I’m too tired to deal with the clean up. (I really should have take. A few days off work to move) Because of all of this, all I wanted this year was margaritas with my few closest friends on our back porch.

Not too much to ask, right? Wrong, apparently. It has turned into a huge affair complete with extended family and everyone’s kids and significant others. What started out as six or seven of us enjoying a drink outside has become a full blown have the whole house ready for guests all over the place ordeal.

Now I feel like I should be feeding all these people who essentially invited themselves and have the house looking amazing.

Can’t do it. Don’t want to do it. At what point in my life will my birthday be mine alone?

And I know that my family loves me. I get that and it makes sense that they would like to celebrate me. So why does it HAVE to be on one specific day?? It would be so much easier if they asked what days I’m available and set an activity up with me. Stop going through my husband, stop acting like a beaten puppy when you might not get your way, and stop telling me that I should just accept all of this because it’s the only way you know how to show you love someone.

I’m not nearly done ranting about this, but I have to go to work, come home, set up our garage sale, get to my event tonight, work again, and clean the house while moving furniture, running the garage sale, and getting ready for this oh so important shin dig. All I really want to do is sleep and enjoy my birthday. That has always been too much to ask.

Sorry to be a downer. No tags so no unfortunate random person has to listen to this.