High School

Bee Gees Song of the Day: Spirits Having Flown

I'd like to take you where my spirit flies,
Through the empty skies
We go alone,
Never before having flown.

I am home today with a sick daughter and therefore, not posting what I had intended to post today. That will have to wait until tomorrow.

Interesting. My 25^th High School reunion is coming up (dreadfully aging me for all my readers, I know). I have learned that some of my high school peers have found me on this blog and are reading what I write. It’s fine when one’s readership consists mostly of family or people overseas searching for anything on line about “Dae Jang Geum”. One feels safe and anonymous. It’s just the strangest thing. I feel somehow like I’ve been ‘outed’.

Not that I mind. I don’t write about anything for which I should be ashamed. All my deep inner ugliness is reserved and secreted within my private journal, WHICH is password protected and WHICH no one will ever see. Ever. Of course, my strange fascination with Korean Drama doubtless raises some eyebrows – it certainly raises my kids’ eyebrows. I’m waiting for the day my boys come down from New York with a therapist in tow to conduct an intervention. “Mom, we’ve been talking and we're a little worried…”

It makes me ponder though, what has changed in my life since my days as a Maroon Knight. The days where those relationships were the most important of my life. I’ve been married. I’ve been divorced. I’ve had three children whom I’ve raised, I miscarried two. I have one child married off, and am watching the other one work his way through college. My baby is 16 and this summer, grew up overnight. I have lived in no less than 13 different dwellings since my graduation, which means I have lost to time all my high school memorabilia. I still like the Bee Gees and was devastated when Maurice died.

I’m not quite the clueless goober I was when I was 17, though I’m still naïve. I’ll admit that that is finally wearing off and I’ve become rather jaded. I am a fan of chardonnay and prefer my martinis dirty with three olives. I cannot drink Irish Car Bombs. I still can’t do math and I will count on my fingers when a calculator is not accessible. I remember “Esta Susanna en casa? Si, esta con una amiga. Donde estan, en la sala? No, en la cocina.” And “On va a la plage!” I can say good morning (annyeong haseyo) and good evening (annyeong hi chumuseyo) in Korean now too. Bwahahahaaaaa!

I’m conservative in my views and still really Catholic. I’d buy a hybrid car if I could afford it, but only so I could drive in the HOV lane. I don’t watch many movies and I still love to read. I’ve had some crap hole bosses and I’ve had some incredible bosses. I have been called “the voice” and have been told I give good phone. I do not work for a 900 number. I can’t stand superior bank tellers and I love really old people. Except for really old men who grope. That’s just disturbing on all sorts of levels.

I miss everyone. Barb, Jackie, Nancy, Mary, Donna, Alesia, Gina, Karen, Ken, Dave, Dave, Mike, Dan, Lisa, Lisa, Joe, Sally, John, Floyd, Tracy, Mike, Joan, Pat, Frank, ...eff it, I could go on. Hell, I miss ‘em all.

We change. It would be a big ball of wrong if we didn’t. Yep. We change. But there are threads that still bind us.

If I close my eyes, I can still see Mrs. Reina, (she knew what an idiot I was at math), Mr. Chudy, Mr. and Mrs. Goodale, Ms. Tasovac, Mr. Frank, Mr. Dunadee, (I remember ‘helping’ Mike during that health class with eye blinks Mr. Spina, and…

Poor, poor Mrs. Watson. We should have been shot for what we did to her. God, please bless her. May her fish always swim and her barn never crumble.

See? Threads.