I think by now everybody knows how Sar and I became friendly. We brawled, which is one of the reasons that I love her blog title so much. Then she said the magic words: “I come in peace.” No, she said we had a friend in common, the dawg Doug. At the time she was hosting her brother Strider’s blog. Now she has the wildly successful Belle of the Brawl.
Yes Sar brawls, but she’s also one of the sweetest best bloggers around. Everybody who meets Sar falls under her spell. I’m in awe of her contests though I have never won one. There’s some pretty stiff competition. And I can’t get used to her Thursday guest posts being on Fridays. I will be her guest a week from Friday
And how many other people have the Foo Fighters as one of their favorite rock groups? I remember when about five people in the whole world heard of them. When Sar says she loves 80’s music, she means the down and dirty stuff. My favorite 60’s group isn’t really The Fugs, but I will never forget how their albums were kept behind the counter. I felt so grown-up buying one.
Queen of the links? Me? Just because I pay people to link me….
While our resident queen of links is busy writing for her highly anticipated book, I’ve been given the honor of taking a turn to pen for this here successful blog, Courting Destiny. Thanks for the opportunity, Pia.
For the last 2 years I’ve been a blue gal living in the red state of Virginia. Just prior I was a blue gal living in the blue state of New Jersey. So it came as a complete surprise this past weekend when I ran into a gal I went to high school with. This was only the second time in nearly 20 years that I randomly ran into a former classmate, the other being the time I ran into the dude who was my freshman biology partner and who this squeamish gal thanked again for heroically carving up ‘our’ frog.
This latest run in did give me pause for thought. 5 years, 10 years, 15 years. Now it’s nearly 20 years later, and I’ve never had a class reunion. Should I be concerned? What is the appeal of class reunions anyway? Let’s face it, while it’s a lovely idea, no one really goes to a reunion to reunite with former classmates. In reality, everyone goes to see if the burnouts survived and if the homecoming queen has spread in ways other than she was rumored to have back in the day. And everyone wants to know what ever happened to the little geek who got stuffed in a locker, hoping that he’s turned into a buff dude rolling in the dough while the abusive bully is himself a rolling dough boy.
And then there are those that go with the specific purpose of recapturing their glory days or trying to capture vicariously what wasn’t by showing off their current successes. Personally, I enjoyed high school and I have predominantly fond memories that I sometimes revisit when I hear my beloved ’80s music. I’m content leaving my memories intact. Unless of course a reunion means seeing the abusive bully who paid more attention to his appearance and stuffing little geeks into lockers show up fat and balding. In that case I’d go, high five the former little geek and say, just as the title of my high school senior prom did, “Let The Good Times Roll”!