Already United

There has been great debate among the inner circle that is Annah's usual suspects on whether or not we want to go to our high school reunion taking place this Friday. As my friend Miguel so eloquently put it the other day when he tried to convince me to ditch town for the weekend for a drink fest in Orlando: "Reunions have been made obsolete by Facebook and I already know everything I need to know about everyone. Who got fat, who lost weight, who's still a slut, which football player's bald, and who cheated on their husband with his best friend and now collects welfare because the best friend left her for a younger girl."

The thing about high school is that in some way shape or form, it shapes the adult we're on the brink of becoming. There's a lot of malice lurking in those hallways, and although the person I am today is a complete departure from that naive girl always quick to offer a smile or carry someone's books, one thing remains the same: I'm mental-asylum bound.

I guess in high school I could be what was considered popular; a nerd-at-heart close to the same group of girls who'd befriended me when I didn't speak a lick of English back in 1993: Lola, Britt, Penelope and Olivia. These girls are still my best friends and I take it they'll always be, until there isn't a spot on my face where I could place a Botox needle for fear it will explode.

Rafa was my boyfriend, a beautiful boy who's now a man and I can still call a friend whom I occasionally drink with when the stars align in our favor. I sang in chorus (no idea why because I'm a horrible singer), graduated with honors, tried some ecstacy and LSD (none to my liking), mastered the art of fellatio senior year, fell in love with literature, tried vodka and hated it (something was obviously wrong with me), learned that regardless of how fat you think you are you can always be fatter, decided traveling is my drug of choice, and was glad when at seventeen it was all over. But most importantly, I learned that everything you need in life is probably already yours, and that's a lesson to keep close while letting yourself want whatever your crazy heart desires.

Damn. I guess high school was pretty educational after all.

And so it's finally been decided that we'll go. But even as I hopelessly search for an appropriate top and pray I fit into my old skinny jeans, I'm keenly aware I should've been elsewhere this weekend, drinking with new friends instead of revisiting a past that although lovely and full of wonderful memories, is just that: the past.

I'll end this with a delicious passage from a blog post I read today that touched me deeply, and that's a lot more than anyone can say these days because I haven't been touched, deeply or otherwise, for a very very long time, guys.

"I think life is like a story. Each story, like each life, has a beginning: As the story progresses it leads up to the climax, followed by the dénouement when which the story descends until it is over. In life, people are 'living' up to the point of their climax, then once that happens they truly begin 'dying.' I don't agree with the whole 'another day I live, is another day I die' notion. That's just pessimistic people with tiny boobs or small weiners who talk like that." - Daniel.

I fucking love you guys, all of you. For being a part of this present I love so much and near future if a girl can be so lucky. I know I'm getting mushy but bear with me on this rare occasion.

Sides it's my blog and I mush if I want to.