Thoughts on my 20 year reunion

The above photo was taken at my high school graduation, June, 20 years ago. That’s me on the left there, and one of my oldest friends, Jenn, on the right. I chose this photo instead of my traditional senior photo for a couple of reasons. 1.) Someone had already posted it on Facebook so it was easy to access, and 2.) My senior photo was ATROCIOUS. I know what you’re saying; we all looked bad back then with the big hair and White Rain residue, but really, mine was ATROCIOUS.

I had forgotten about senior photo day until an hour before I was scheduled to be in front of the camera. It was on a Saturday, I had stayed out late the night before, and truthfully, what teenager remembers she is supposed to show up at school on a Saturday? I clearly remember my hair not working out. I had washed it, which was absolutely a no-no if your goal was optimal teasing power. The bangs were falling, and the sides puffed out like a mushroom cloud. With my round face? Oh my.

To compensate for the bad hair, I guess I decided it would be a good idea to double-duty the black eyeliner. Normally it would have been blue or teal or purple with matching mascara, but it was photo day, after all. Thank God I didn’t have to pick out my own clothes or I’d have never made it. Actually… that might have been my saving grace. I obviously made my appointment in time, threw on my black robe and smiled the shittiest smile I’ve ever seen. I was Goth before Goth was cool, I reckon. I hated that photo. I still hate it, 20 years later.

And just as luck would have it, when I arrived at my 10-year HS reunion, I was handed a name tag with that picture, large enough in size to be seen from the bottommost bottom of the Grand Freaking Canyon. Oh yes, I get to ressurect that old picture for my old friends again, and now their spouses get to see it, too! Go me!

To be sure, this photo will surface somehow again this year when I attend my 20th HS reunion. This means I’ll need to make some minor adjustments to compensate, again, just not with black eyeliner this time. Thankfully it’s not till October, so there’s plenty of time for preparation. To detract from the picture from hell I will:

-schedule a really good haircut, color, and keratin straightener. Decide it’s too short and go in again for extensions.

-schedule Botox for the potholes and trenches (more polite company would suggest fine lines and wrinkles, but who are we kidding?)

-schedule lipo for the arms, tummy, and legs. Remember to ask if the leftovers can all be deposited into my butt because I still don’t have one of those.

-schedule a full facial at least 3 months in advance because I break out like the measles immediately afterwards every.single.time. Go figure that one. Will also need a full facial wax (whoever said “just be thankful they’re blonde hairs” seriously needs to lay off the glass-half-full crap).

-figure between the skin doc and the Botox doc, one of them can fix the ‘mommy brows that are permanently furrowed’ so I don’t look like I’m constantly pissed off at everyone and have to explain.

-Finally, go shopping for something other than a black robe. Preferably something fitted, but not too; something trendy, but not too; something bold and bright, but not too; and something that makes me look like I’m smoking hot for my age, but not too. I know, I’m totally screwed, right?

Yep, I figure after all this planning, all this preparation, all this perseverance (!!!!) I’ll stand once again with my classmates, all dolled up and ready for my new picture, looking a little something like this: (scroll down)