Wish me luck!
Okay, so I'm packing for the big reunion trip....
1) fabulous flattering yet insanely overpriced outfits - check
2) ridiculously uncomfortable yet totally calf-enhancing shoes - check
3) flask containing salvation from every official reunion event - check
Right, so the whole "reunions are all about seeing who got fat" thing is really funny, yes I know, and I stand by my assertion that "what they look like now" is really the first thing that runs through everyone's head when confronted with the past.
HOWEVER, I want to state for the record that I am very excited about my date with destiny...or alumni, as it were. Yeah, yeah, I run on about what to wear and I admit to completing 5 tanning sessions, but let's get real, my white ass could use a good coating of color- reunion or no reunion.
I realized today that during this entire process of preparing for my first voyage back to my alma mater since graduation, I may have failed to communicate m, my titillation and instead, focused upon a generic smear campaign against my fellow graduates. In fact, nothing could be farther than the truth. Contrary to popular opinion, Queenan does wish well on her friends and even her non-friends with whom she spent a great deal of time. Oh for god's sake, I want them all to be happy! There, I said it, and I won't take it back! (But don't go spreadin' it all around, you'll ruin my reputation.)
And I realize, as I sit here in a moisturizing mask to combat the effects of my tanning sessions, that I have given you no reason to believe that my upcoming trip is one with the best of intentions, seeing as I've spent the past 2 months obsessing over my clothes and hair and weight and pigment. But I've got to tell you that in my real life- you know the one where I sat happily on my couch in my Target PJ's with a plate of pasta in my lap, without makeup, suntan, or a care in the world about the size of my jeans- in that life I really can't wait just to be back in that place where I first began to figure out who the hell I was gonna be with the people who helped me figure it out.
This is not to negate my preparations. It's true that I've planned outfits to accentuate or diminish as my assets require. And it's true that the energy I've put into my appearance for the weekend probably surpasses that on the day of my wedding. But please understand it's really not so drastic. My self-esteem does not hang in the balance, but if my time in New York City has taught me anything friends, it's that every once in a while it's just fun to be FABULOUS!
1) fabulous flattering yet insanely overpriced outfits - check
2) ridiculously uncomfortable yet totally calf-enhancing shoes - check
3) flask containing salvation from every official reunion event - check
Right, so the whole "reunions are all about seeing who got fat" thing is really funny, yes I know, and I stand by my assertion that "what they look like now" is really the first thing that runs through everyone's head when confronted with the past.
HOWEVER, I want to state for the record that I am very excited about my date with destiny...or alumni, as it were. Yeah, yeah, I run on about what to wear and I admit to completing 5 tanning sessions, but let's get real, my white ass could use a good coating of color- reunion or no reunion.
I realized today that during this entire process of preparing for my first voyage back to my alma mater since graduation, I may have failed to communicate m, my titillation and instead, focused upon a generic smear campaign against my fellow graduates. In fact, nothing could be farther than the truth. Contrary to popular opinion, Queenan does wish well on her friends and even her non-friends with whom she spent a great deal of time. Oh for god's sake, I want them all to be happy! There, I said it, and I won't take it back! (But don't go spreadin' it all around, you'll ruin my reputation.)
And I realize, as I sit here in a moisturizing mask to combat the effects of my tanning sessions, that I have given you no reason to believe that my upcoming trip is one with the best of intentions, seeing as I've spent the past 2 months obsessing over my clothes and hair and weight and pigment. But I've got to tell you that in my real life- you know the one where I sat happily on my couch in my Target PJ's with a plate of pasta in my lap, without makeup, suntan, or a care in the world about the size of my jeans- in that life I really can't wait just to be back in that place where I first began to figure out who the hell I was gonna be with the people who helped me figure it out.
This is not to negate my preparations. It's true that I've planned outfits to accentuate or diminish as my assets require. And it's true that the energy I've put into my appearance for the weekend probably surpasses that on the day of my wedding. But please understand it's really not so drastic. My self-esteem does not hang in the balance, but if my time in New York City has taught me anything friends, it's that every once in a while it's just fun to be FABULOUS!
2 Comments:
and fabulous you are. You see folks, I really did teach her to be nice. Little angels.
well i couldn't a said it better myself
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