Monday, November 30, 2009


As part of my ongoing (yet slowly executing) plan to better myself, I made a conscious decision to be a part of my high school's 20th reunion planning committee.

This might not be a drastic decision for most people.  I am not most people.  I did not like high school...or rather, I didn't like kind of people who went there.  (I never disliked anyone....I just never felt like I was liked.)  I felt like I didn't fit in.  I moved into the area in March of 6th grade....most of my classmates had been together for 6 years already.....and that feeling of belonging never materialized for me.

My high school was a public school that behaved private.  Rich kids getting BMWs for their 16th birthday.  Cliques more rigid than the caste system in India.  When I graduated, I ran out the door vowing never to come back.  Ha - that big chomping noise you are hearing is life coming back to bite me in the ass again.

When we moved back to the Philly area, it was very surreal, and I kept thinking I would run into people from high school at every turn.  It didn't quite turn out that way...but when I found out that my high school reunion committee was meeting at a hotel bar LITERALLY 200 yards from my office building, I felt I needed to put on my big-girl pants and reconcile my past head on.

It has been the slow re-entry back to the past and trying to make peace with my teenage years.  The more meetings we had, the more enthused I felt about the reunion event.  I've been pretty nervous about the whole thing - like I desperately want the cool kids to like me....or be ONE OF THEM.

Our event was Saturday night.  I presented well...though I (subconsiously??) did not find myself in front of a photographer the whole night.  The few pics that were taken of me I was not happy with.  I still felt like I crashed the cool kid party while the parents were out of town....but at least I made the effort. 

Baby steps.....

Monday, August 24, 2009

The next step...

Angst alone is embarrassing and hard to deal with.

Angst in a blog is worse. It's trifling. Trivializing. Makes the author seem insecure and pathetic.

So why put this in writing? Memorialized for the ages?

Beats the hell out me.

People blog for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes, I feel like a struggling writer who has a novel inside her that will someday emerge.... Other times, I feel like I've got these witty bon mots that must be shared. Though - with my sense of humor - there are few who "get" me. I don't blog faithfully, and I don't tell anyone that I'm doing it anyway. I'm doing it for me, to put some moments in my life out there to oxidize and rust into my brain.

When I started this blog - I was at a crossroads. I had all sorts of shit going on that was waaaay out of my control. And I am a classic control freak. So I thought, I'll start this blog and talk about all this crap that I can't control. And the superstitious side of my brain staged an internal coup and declared, "POST THIS AND NOTHING GOOD WILL EVER COME OF YOUR LIFE."

So, I would drive and blog in my head.

I think I've tempted the Fates long enough.

We have moved into our new home, and begun the next chapter. I've hit the giant "reset" button and we are starting our lives over.

And here, it shall begin for me as well.