I'm The Mary

I have been looking forward to turning 28 for as long as I can remember-mainly because it’s the year of my high school reunion. I have this vision of reliving my favorite Romy and Michelle moment and driving from NYC to Springfield in a convertible, listening to the music of my high school youth and daydreaming about lame dances and even lamer boyfriends. I will be stopping for the “business woman special” and even though I won’t claim to invent Post-it’s there is a good change some sweet interpretative dancing might be involved. Anyway, the reunion subject was broached when Riss and Curt were here this weekend because the three of us were in the same graduating class. Curt and I being social butterflies and psyched for this day and Riss being the one who has adamantly refused to go since graduation believing that it’s merely a brag fest and a waste of a place ticket. It’s a subject we’ve been chatting about all year, mainly because I want her to be my Rhoda. As it turns out we may have talked her into it on one condition- we’ll be the better halves to Nate and Curt, our dates, who will be dressed in non-other than Billy-Bob teeth, cut-offs, mullets and prepped with fresh outta the pokey stories for pure entertainment value. Surely nothing to brag about in our books. Nate even went as far as to try on this little number for size.
It looks like I may have a back seat driver on my way home this summer after all.