I want my $80!!!

My mouth to God’s ears, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for treating this blog like a stepchild. Perhaps one day, I’ll share with you the tale of the 18 month long, $20,000 waste of time fuckery that was an attempt to adopt a child.

But for now, more important matters are pressing.

God Bless the HS Reunion that is upon us all. Or rather, upon the other 700-or something souls that I graduated with. I will not be attending this drunken compare-contrast fest. To get all of the information that I need to feel validated, I can just lurk on Facebook for free, as opposed to shit out $80 -$100 to feed the proverbial animals face to face.

But times are tough! It’s hard on the street for the affluent. My eyes were just accosted by a giant etiquette snafu so grievous that would make Emily Post sit up in her casket, and shit on herself in pure, tacky, and holy horror.

The crime; attendees who have not prepaid to party at the party of the century have been called out to cough up the cash or be shamed for all of the nets to gawk at.

Never mind the fact that people were giving the option to pay $80 early at a discount rate, or spit up the full $100 rate at the Gates of Hell once they arrived all Club Monaco clad at the oh-so chic venue. So much for choices. The Pom Poms have spoken!

OBVIOUSLY, (I love you Antoine Dodson) this shout out isn’t because the peeps running the showboat are actually concerned about making sure fellow classmates save a few bucks for their tickets for this hot mess. Nope. My best guess is that the peeps running the showboat probably need the cash money to pay for this brew-ha-ha. My guess is that otherwise, they’ll have to piss out the difference from their own pockets.

Which, I agree, is the wild suck. No good deed goes unpunished, and that includes party planning for a well intentioned cause. But no one asked them to plan a fancy soiree where $80-$100 would be needed for an evening of well drinks and cocktail weenies. Actually, it was suggested long ago to have a more family friendly, cost conscious get together. Some poor soul got dog piled and had his ass handed to him for being the dirty fucker to speak such blasphemy as to defame the tradition of going to a reunion for it’s real purpose. That purpose is not be to reunited, but to see and be seen.

So with that said, where are the High School Bees when you need them?

The Bees ask, wouldn’t it make more sense, and be less gauche (my new favorite word) to contact those on the $80 naughty mat privately to beg for the funds in a more dignified, less intrusive manner? Perhaps a little note with an apology for reneging on the option to pay at the door? Since the attendees are getting a shake down for their fucking $80, they should at least know why...

Dear HS Reunion Attendee,

We know we said you could pay at the door, but that was some bull crap we just said to look all proper and shit. We need cash money now because out of a class of 700 or so, our asses could only dig up about 300, of which only about 160 are coming. Of those 160, only about 100 or so of them are bona fide former students. That means, our asses are holding a bill that we can’t pay for. We’re worried that come the night of the reunion, most people will come to their senses. Instead of coming down on a cold winters night to fight for parking and hang out with people they don’t like, they’ll stay home with their families and enjoy yet another cozy night of Thanksgiving left overs and a Cops Marathon on G4. Whatchugonnadowhentheycomeforyou?

So, won’t you please help support the Class of 19HOLYDAMNITSBEENTHATLONG, and prepay your $80, so that the handful of us who actually do care about this endeavor won’t have to.

Go High Skool!

Yup. That’s how Bootsy would do it.

Update as of 11/15 The guest count is now up to 190, and I'm sure those crazy kids will break 250 by time of the ho-down! For that, I am honestly glad that no one had to pay out of pocket for weenies and wine. I'm also glad that this means tear stained, emails begging for money has come to an end. I'm now waiting for the tear stained, emails of pics with people begging to be untagged to begin. That's reunion enough for me! Boogie down.

Update 12/8 I have since seen said pics, and I have to say that the Reunion Kids put on a quite a show! It really did look like a nice party. No well drinks or cocktail weenies in sight!! It was the good shizz and fancy hors devours you'd see on Bitchen Kitchen on The Cooking Channel. People got gift bags in school colors! The class douche bag delivered on his douche baggery by being on the douche to wear an Ed Hardy T-Shirt! But most of all, people that seemed so bigger than life to me all those years ago, were totally, 100% unrecognizable to me now. This makes me rethink my entire position on this HS reunion, as well as all of the others. After all, I must confess my dirty secret of the underbelly, that I was on the planning committee of our last reunion. I thought I had gotten all off this bullshit out of my system then, and I did, until the begging for money started.

I must ponder and post more when I don't have a DVR of Glee to watch. TTFN....

Open Letters To The Past

I admit, this letter is rude, rude, rude. When I wrote it, I planned on being the only one who ever saw it. Unless of course, the Merlot was still flowing strong at 2:00 AM, and the Real Housewhores of Everywhere Marathon was over, giving me nothing to do but send pissy letters to people from the past for no other reason than a self dare.

Whew! Let that sentence just run on and on.

However, given the circumstances, as you will soon read, I think my note was completely justifiable, if not downright civil. I leave it to you to be the judge.


Dear Dude from HS who keeps adding me on FB, even though I've deleted you twice,

I understand why you do it though. You like numbers. I make number 145. It's good to be popular on a social forum so you can sleep at night with the comfort that your glory days from the late 80's can linger on now that you're fat and bald.

Like so many people in my little book here, I have such fond memories of you.  You taught me that gratuitous groping should always be followed with at the very least, a fake attempt to ask if it was good for me.  Which it wasn't. 

Sadly, I ran into you many years later at a fancy cocktail party where you were WAY out of your social caste.  My friend at the time decided to take pity on you, and take you home for the night and attempt to make a man out of you. It humored us both that you apologized to ME for never calling her again after that wasted evening.  However, your vantage point of the situation was greatly skewed; it was SHE who never called you, as it wasn't good for her either.

So here you are, still adding me on FB.  You never say a word, but I'm sure you're having a sneaky peek around my page. No worries, we all do it.  I looked at yours to see if you had anything interesting to say, which of course and as history dictated, you don't.

So, savor your look now, and enjoy the view.  I hope you have a few laughs at the witty repartee of my friends, and learn new tidbits about me.  I like romantic songs, holding hands while walking on the beach, and guys who know what to do with a pair of tits.

Pushing them together does not make one big one,
Bootsy

I probably should just delete the guy. The only reason I took the FR was so he'd stop adding me. I didn't think his existence was offensive enough to be so severe as to block him. Actually, I thought blocking him would be rude. He wasn't a criminal, just boring and a craptastic booty call. How he sired two kids I will never know. His wife must either have low standards, or pulled a Paris Hilton by keeping the phone handy in case he was feeling ambitious.

Update: As of July 26th, 2010, I deleted him. It was liberating, as now my own friend count is at a nice, even number. Sweet synchronicity, at long last!

The Unwanted Facebook Friend

It’s a cold day in the hottest part of hell when I get a Friend Request. Once in a while, someone I actually want to hear from will pop up and say hi. It’s always truly lovely when that happens. I really do enjoy hearing about what’s new in their lives, and that all has been well during the many years that have gone by. I’ve happily been reconnected with friends that I thought I would never hear from again. Now that they’re back in my life, I realize how much I missed them when they were gone.

But it’s more often the case that when the wind of the Friend Request blows the fire my way, it’ll be from a former co-worker whom once I probably e-stalked for HR dirt work, only to find a topless photo of them on their Shitspace page.

She was in management too.

The ho.

Today, I received a Friend Request from a former coworker whom I forgot existed right after I cashed my last paycheck. He's become quite the connoisseur of contacts. He has friends of 500+, clearly thinking he’s on Facebook to network. He's unlike the bulk of us who are there for the stalking of ex’s to make sure that they’re now fat and ugly, and that their new partners are even fatter and uglier than they are.

Given that my friend list is small, as I try to keep it to the handful of people who have laughed with me, and not at me, I’m not too keen on having this dude all up in my business.

More so, my relationship with him doesn’t extend any further than the fact that I:
A: Mistook him for a woman the first time I heard his voice on a phone.
B: Filled out his new hire paperwork in less than ten minutes flat because my then internet boyfriend was four time zones away. It was more of priority to get in my daily dose of Deutsch loving rather than actually spending time with this freak of a new hire, of whom I was convinced would be escorted out of the building by weeks end.
and C: My two bosses would accuse the other of hiring him, neither one wanting to take responsibility for the social troll sitting in the bathroom stall sized cubby in the back of the office.

Albeit, he was a nice guy, and it seems that he’s made something of a success of himself since I last spoke to him over ten years ago. I mean, he must have. If he’s connected to 567 people that he feels he needs to keep in touch with, he must have brushed up on his conversation skills, or invested in a voice box to make him sound more like a man so people take him seriously.

He was proper enough to send a small message with his request, listing off a myriad of people from our former office, all of which I had happily forgotten ever existed. His attempt, I’m sure, was to remind me of how I knew him. But I could never forget The Dude Who Sounded Like Lady?

(A quick search of his friend list was clearly devoid of my former boss, proving that she and I are on the same page. Or perhaps he just hadn’t done enough digging to add yet one more person to his giant list of everyone he’s ever met EVER?)

So what did I do? Was I FB politically correct, and accepted the request despite myself? Or did I act a fool?

I simply ignored the request, which seems like a reasonable thing to do, given that I don’t want to have shit to do with him. However, my tendency to impulsively delete people usually gives me an odd sense of Deleters Remorse. After all, if this guy was courteous enough to reach out, as well as send a respectable note, the least I could have done was replied in kind.

Perhaps a simple, “Thank you for contacting me. My page is for close friends and family only. Feel free to reach me on my abandoned Linkedin page, where adding everyone you’ve ever met EVER may actually benefit you in some way."

Now that I think of it...let me go check that shizz just in case.




Oh...oh wait..there he is, all LINKED IN and everything.

None the less, I should have had the manners to reply to him.
If he’s the kind of FB Friend Collector that I suspect him to be, I have the inkling that this won’t be the last time I hear from him. Perhaps I’ll be able to have a FR Denial Do Over for good FB Karma. One can only hope....