that's so high school...

So, this weekend, my hometown is celebrating its sesquicentennial, which means its 150^th birthday. Since I’m going to be in the area anyway (I have yet another doc. appt. tomorrow in Rochester), I figured I might as well partake in some of the festivities...just how many is yet to be determined. I do know I will be attending a PHS “all school reunion.” I don’t know exactly how I feel about this. I’m torn between fake aloofness (translate, no way do I want to see most of you people again) and blatant curiosity. I am such a different person than I was when high school ended five years ago, but so the same. And it’s not like I don’t know at least some of what most of them have been up to (Plainview’s pop. lies somewhere around 3,400...our mothers gossip), but now that I’m more “out of myself,” so to speak, I feel like I’d be more comfortable talking with my classmates. Although we went to school together for 13 years, I really don’t know much about who they really are, what kind of people they have become...I draw judgements and make my own conclusions or write them off. You know, I don’t think I didn’t really like high school until I left it and realized just how naive I was, or at least the experiences I let myself out of...not that that matters really, anymore. I’ve moved on and am proud of the person I’ve become. I’d much rather be where I am today than tied to the town with a baby and an alcoholic husband (so I'm being dramatic? So what?).

Mmmm, high school...yeah. So, the exciting part about this weekend is that my best friend from that era who I have not seen in six months will be in town (although not for the reunion, but we’ve planned brunch on Sunday). Emily (the one coming into town), Lyssa and MA are the closest and only real friends I have from high school. Emily got married a year and a half ago and moved to Madison with her man, so we never see her any more, so whenever she’s in town, we all try to get together. Lyssa is getting married in October, so I’m sure we’ll all be hashing out details about that and whatnot. (Odd side note: my mom got invited to one of three bridal showers for Lyssa and she’s maybe spoken to the girl like five times in her life...fishing for presents are we?) At any rate, it will be good to see everyone and talk about how things have been going. I love that every group of friends I’m in has a different dynamic, and I especially like the dynamic of this group...a great place to have extended, deep conversations about serious things, instead of glossing or ignoring, like so many others do in an effort to avoid controversy.

Well, here’s to being five years out and to P-view’s 1-5-0. I’m sure I’ll rehash everything on the flip side.

deadly sin-age

Isn’t it funny how, throughout the day, the mind can wander and hit on so many things that are wrong? (Or right, I suppose, depending on the attitude of the day). I’m so frustrated/disappointed with myself it’s ridiculous. I am angry about so many things, many of which are out of control. A lot of times, I end up misdirecting my anger at people who, sure, could maybe act or be differently, but haven’t done anything to provoke my turning on them, whether to their face or behind their back.

The last time I went to confession, the priest said I was angry with God and that I should hash things out with Him sometime, tell him everything that’s been going on in my head; yell, scream if I wanted. I don’t doubt that would probably be theraputic for me, but I’d have to be in the right mood. Leaving the church for a residential area on a dark winter evening wasn’t exactly the atmosphere I’d envisioned.

In the end, it boils down to feeling like I deserve things. I’ve put in time and been patient and played by the rules (mostly). Why can I not get some simple things I want? I don’t really know where this mentality came from unless it can be attributed to capitalist society...is that even capitalist? I’m no economist, but what I’m getting at is that people are used to giving, and getting in return. I’ve given and given and given and I’ve got almost nothing. And when I see others give virtually nothing and get everything, it drives me insane.

On the other hand, what on earth is wrong with me? Not only are there people I know who’s life is far more chaotic and deserve far more than I do, but there are billions of people in the world who have never had the opportunities I’ve had and have, the resources, the caring family and friends. Why is it so hard to be happy with what we have? Why can we never get enough?