and it starts spilling out…

Not busy at work so thought I'd catch up here. Nothing to report, really, but let's see what I can cull from my brain.

Am re-contemplating my high school reunion. I had decided, no, definitely not. Now, though, my hs friend Jennifer with whom I have lately reconnected is definitely going. In fact, she writes:

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I am going to this reunion. I have to go. If I don't go, then they win. I can't explain it, but that is how I feel. I have to go. I don't care if I have the sh*ttiest time ever, or if I have to go alone ([friend#1] doesn't want to go either, but I think I can talk her into it; I doubt [friend#2] will go. She is so traumatized from JHA it is unbelievable). So there you have it. I am going. You're welcome to join me, but I understand if you are not ready.
--

I can totally relate. I think about high school or about going to see those evil bastards and I get all post traumatic stress disorder-y. Honestly, I would mostly be going to see my few friends. There is — I have to be honest — part of me that wants to be badass and not the shrinking nonentity wallflower those assholes got off on torturing. I can stand up for myself now, and they can keep their small-town Junior League Talbots-wearing asses on their side of the goddamn room. Ooh, see… angry much? That boiling up scares me. But I was bullied when I wasn't ignored, and I feel so bad for the me that I was. No one deserved that. I wish I could go back and tell that girl that high school is nothing and that one day I'd escape.

I guess I'm contemplating going for that girl I was, who could have only dreamed that in twenty years I'd live in Atlanta after having lived in New York, that I'd have lots of friends who love me, that I'd be in a badass profession with a great job in a great company, that I'd own a house, that things would fucking be okay.

I guess that's what Jennifer was getting at, that I'm me and I like myself and all y'all can just go fuck yourselves.

(I have to be honest though and really wish it wasn't so soon. I'm getting in shape at a good clip, but I wish I was skinny again. That's okay, though… I have an idea for what to wear (thank god my arms and legs usually stay thin). Unfortunately the ensemble was in Japanese Vogue and cost like a meeellion dollars, so I need to construct the H&M version. Bad-assitude. Anyway, those clunky heels, the short boots? Gotta get me some… gonna need six feet o' me. I know, shallow. I'm ashamed, but not. They judged me on shallow shit for 12 years. Gonna feed it back to 'em.)

Anyway, OBVIOUSLY, this is pulling up a few issues. Just a leetle. Obviously, this issue will be on the short list for therapy. I wrote this to a friend yesterday:

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Hee: just fussed in my head about [my therapist] being gone this week and I realized -- again!! -- I need to not be so cavalier about her in my financial picture. I keep thinking, oh, I'll just go down to every other week, and then I have some panic-y emergency. Sigh.
--

So, yeah, I have time to decide. I wish this wasn't a big deal, but… it is.


Well, I had some other topics but my reunion angst pretty much filled up my typin' time. Ees almost time to go. Also, I think I need to absorb how badly damaged I apparently am. Poor me. Both of me. :)