I have never met anyone like you and I don't think I ever will. You challenged me to be a better person. You challenged my perceptions; you challenged me. People just accepted what I said because it was me, but not you. You made me think about everything I thought and felt and made me fight for it. You made me think about things I hadn't thought about before and never thought I would. You opened my eyes to prejudices I never thought I held. And best of all, you helped to undo them.

My old blog posts

Thinking about re-posting my old blog posts. An old friend was reading my blog today and I was a little sad that he wouldn't be able to read any of them. What do you think?

Probably not, right? I mean, the whole point of starting a new blog....

Yeah, you're right.

My brother is a cheating scumbag

Two weeks ago I came home to find my brother had some chick in his room that was not his girlfriend and no, they weren't "just talking." I knew someone other than my brother was in the house because the doggy gate was drawn to keep the dogs in the kitchen, except that he also locked them out in the yard. He came out of his room when he heard me open the front door and nonchalantly went into the bathroom, then locked himself in his room for another hour.

In that time, I had let the dogs back in and released the doggy gate so they had free reign of the house. I sat at the kitchen table working on the computer after my conference call. My seat at the kitchen table is at the end of the hallway and gives me a perfect view of all our doors and the front door. He came out of his room, went into the bathroom again and drew the doggy gate out again. By this time, I had also gone into the living room to check the mail, and had thus seen the purse on the couch and it did not belong to his girlfriend.

He goes back to his room and stands in the doorway. My brother is six feet tall and broad. This chick was short and petite and he was trying block her from my view. Puh-lease. They slowly and quietly walked into the living room, turning on the television to cover any noise. And then quietly tried to open the door so she could leave. Really? Did he really think I was that stupid?

Earlier I had felt inclined to pound on his door and scream, "Get that tramp out of this house!" But I relented. However, at this point, with him taking me for an idiot and trying to sneak her out of the house, I could no longer hold my tongue. Remember, from my seat at the kitchen table, I have a perfect view of the door. So I finally yell out, "Why are you trying to sneak her out?"

I believe he called me an asshole and said I am his sister and therefore should be on his side, once the slut was gone. (Why do I call her a slut when she could just be an innocent victim in all of this? Well, if you saw his room, you'd clearly see that he has a girlfriend and that she spends a lot of time here. Directly in front of his bed there is a collage frame with pictures of him and the girlfriend, their names, anniversary date and the words "I Love You." Plus of course a ton of chick-lit books, unless he's going to claim those are his.) I told him it didn't matter I was his sister, I was also a female and what he was doing was wrong. He has sisters and a mother. What if some guy treated his sisters or mother like that? He should think about that. I told him not to think I would keep this secret.

And secret I did not. No, I didn't tell his girlfriend, though I should have. I did tell my sister and mother. I'm pretty sure mom wussed out and didn't say a thing to him. Two days later he left to spend the weekend in Santa Barbara with his girlfriend and her family because she was graduating from UCSB. He played the role of dutiful boyfriend for a week, then brought her back to this house and later to Father's Day dinner with our family and an Angels v Dodgers game after spending the afternoon at our uncle's house.

I should also note that the following day, as I walked into mom's room to watch tv, I tripped over some shoes lined up in front of mom's bed. Unless my mom started wearing boots way too small for her, yes, you guessed it, he put his girlfriend's shoes in mom's room. I was tempted to throw them at him. Mom later put them back in his room when I pointed them out to her.

This past Monday, when she was back in Santa Barbara, my sister came down hard on my brother. Called him trash. Said how disappointed she was in him. That it didn't help being raised by three women and having his father in this house. Told him to ask mom how she felt being cheated on (my dad was a cheater) and if it doesn't hurt her to see him doing the same thing. She told him he wasn't a man. He was pathetic.

Two days later, when just he and I were in the house, we went at it about it. He didn't hear anything my sister told him. He told me to stay out of his life, just like I want everyone to stay out of my life. That's the thing though, I don't bring my life into this house. And again, brought up the fact that I'm his sister. Don't remind me. It amazes me that he sees nothing wrong with what he's doing. That he's not only disrespectful to her, to this house, to his sisters and his mother. I warned him that I would not keep his secret.

I warned him.

I came home tonight after a wonderful day out to find that my brother was not at work like he usually is on Friday nights. To find that the doggy gate was drawn and my pups were in the kitchen. Today though, my brother did not bother to come out of his room upon hearing me in the house. Oh no, he was almost defiant in that respect. I withdrew the doggy gate and let the pups have free reign of the house. At first I couldn't tell if he was in his room with someone or not. He had his stereo playing to cover anything. Soon though, I heard a female voice and I knew it wasn't his girlfriend.

He finally came out of his room and to the bathroom. This time defiant in his walk, daring me to say something. The dogs started barking at his door. They know a slut when they smell one. As they had roamed through the house when I freed them of the kitchen, they would stop at his closed door and bark. He went back into his room and locked the door. Then came out a few minutes later and drew the doggy gate. Back to his room and escorted her out. I withdrew the doggy gate before she was even gone, that curly-haired slut. I checked mom's room, no shoes lined up there.

I warned him.

And we all know the bitch that I am.

I text my sister first, saying her brother was trying to prove he could do whatever he wanted in this house.

And then I text his girlfriend. I asked if they had broken up and if not, that they should.

We'll see what happens. One thing's for sure. Mom is going to get an earful from me and she better do something.

Another thing...I'm no longer the middle child. I'm the youngest again. I don't have a brother.

Totally pooped

Tired and full of yummy food. The baby shower is over and done with - yay! I'm always glad when these things are over, regardless of my feelings for them. I'm just filled with utter and complete relief. It's always so much stressful leading up to them than getting through the day of the event. Everything turned out very well, I think.

The baby shower went on later than I thought it would so then we had to rush me home because my family was waiting to go to dinner for Father's Day since my step-dad has to work on the actual day. I know, I know. How was I ever going to make it through dinner considering I had just eaten, quite a bit of food, at the baby shower? It's the Cheesecake Factory, I had no intention of passing that up. I ate half my meal and brought the rest home. I also brought my slice of cheesecake home. They are both sitting in my fridge, waiting for me to eat them, tomorrow. I was the only one that didn't finish her food. Well, mom didn't eat her mashed potatoes, and since Cheesecake Factory mashed potatoes are the best, I couldn't leave them so they were put in with my leftovers. yum!

Off to bed to rest, relax and review today's photos. More tomorrow.

Why you should care - PLEASE REBLOG

If you are reading this right now, you have more luxury than someone in Iran could ever hope for right now. If you are watching TV or a video on youtube, updating your status on Facebook, Tweeting, or even texting your friend, you are lucky. If you are safe in your home, and were able to sleep last night without the sounds of screaming from the rooftops, you need to know and understand what is happening to people just like you in Iran right now.

They are not the enemy. They are a people whose election has been stolen. For the first time in a long time, a voice for change struck the youth of Iran, just as it did for many people in the United States only seven months ago. Hossein Mousavi gained the support of millions of people in Iran as a Presidential candidate. He stands for progressiveness. He supports good relations with the West, and the rest of the world. He is supported with fervor as he challenges the oppressive regime of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

On Friday, millions of people waited for hours in line to vote in Iran's Presidential election. Later that night, as votes came in, Mousavi was alerted that he was winning by a two-thirds margin. Then there was a change. Suddenly, it was Ahmadinejad who had 68% of the vote - in areas which have been firmly against his political party, he overwhelmingly won. Within three hours, millions of votes were supposedly counted - the victor was Ahmadinejad. Immediately fraud was suspected - there was no way he could have won by this great a margin with such oppposition. Since then, reports have been coming in of burned ballots, or in some cases numbers being given without any being counted at all. None of this is confirmed, but what happened next seems to do the trick.

The people of Iran took the streets and rooftops. They shout "Death to the dictator" and "Allah o akbar." They join together to protest. Peacefully. The police attack some, but they stay strong. Riots happen, and the shouting continues all night. Text messaging was disabled, as was satellite, and websites which can spread information such as Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, and the BBC are blocked in the country. At five in the morning, Arabic speaking soldiers (the people of Iran speak Farsi) stormed a university in the capital city of Tehran. While sleeping in their dormitories, five students were killed. Others were wounded. These soldiers are thought to have been brought in by Ahmadinejad from Lebanon. Today, 192 of the university's faculty have resigned in protest.

Mousavi requested that the government allow a peaceful rally to occur this morning - the request was denied. Many thought that it would not happen. Nevertheless, first a few thousand people showed up in the streets of Tehran. At this point, it is estimated that 1 to 2 million people were there. Mousavi spoke on the top of a car. The police stood by. For a few hours, everything was peaceful. Right now, the same cannot be said. Reports of injuries, shootings, and killings are flooding the internet. Twitter has been an invaluable source - those in Iran who still know how to access it are updating regularly with picture evidence. People are being brutally beaten. Tonight will be another night without rest for so many in Iran no older than I am. Tonight there is a Green Revolution.

For more information:
PICTURES:
here and here
NEW INFORMATION:
Here - near constant updates
Here - ONTD_political live post
ON TWITTER:
@StopAhmadi, @ProtesterHelp

دنیارابگوییدچطورآنهاانتخاباتمان دزدیده اند
Tell the world how they have stolen our election

- original post by one_hoopy_frood

Male stripper - 6 years later

A Facebook friend wrote in her status that she needed to get a male stripper for her friend's bachelorette party so I looked up the links from back when I got one for Mari's bachelorette party. I managed to find the link doing a google search.

1. The guy we had at Mari's bachelorette party 6 years ago, yes, 6 years ago, is still stripping. I was surprised, but I guess if he makes good money, but do male strippers really make a lot of money? I would think it's like the "straight" porn industry where it's the women that make the big money, so female strippers I could see making bank.

2. A former classmate from junior & high school is also a stripper. Ick. I don't remember if he was stripping for them back then, but I'm so glad they didn't send him for Mari's bachelorette party. That would have AWKWARD!

We'll play a fun game and you can guess which was the stripper at Mari's bachelorette party (6 years ago!) and which one we went to school with.

http://www.latindancers.com/htmlsite/dancerspage.html

If you play along, I'll reward by posting a pic of me with the stripper. I'd post one of him with M or Mari, but they'd both probably kill me if I did.

Oh, Anners, you may recognize the one we went to school with, I think. ;)

A little of this, a little of that

M has been here since last week and I've been helping her plan a baby shower (yes, another one!) for her fiance's brother's wife, or soon-to-be sister-in-law. We've been running around trying to get everything together. Surprisingly everything has come together quite nicely considering the short amount of time we've had to plan everything. This one is smaller and non-traditional, as opposed to the baby showers I have planned for relatives. Since it is a smaller shower, we've been able to get some really cute stuff, so hopefully her sis-in-law likes it.

Today I found out my cousin, the mama to my Goddaughter, is pregnant. I was on the phone with my Godmother and she was prodding me with questions to determine whether or not I knew. It's been about a month since I've spoken to my cousin, so no, I didn't know. She didn't want to be accused of having a big mouth, so she put my niece on the phone, but she didn't tell me. Celest told me about the soccer team she's now a part of. So my Godmother put my Goddaughter on the phone and I could hear her prodding her to tell me and Hazel did in fact tell me. When my Godmother was prodding me, I figured that's what it was. I knew they had been trying to get pregnant and a few months ago they had a false alarm. Of course, I'm not supposed to know, so I can't say anything. Hopefully I'll be able to keep my mouth shut when she does tell me and not let on that I already knew.

M and I have also talked a little about her wedding. I finally gave her the wedding planner and bridal magazines I'd bought her. She looked through it a bit, but since most of her time has been spent working on the baby shower she hasn't been able to do what she wanted for her wedding; like going to look at wedding gowns.

Ooh, I just checked the Young Variety website and they updated the board members and biographies. I'm official. :D We have some cool events coming up so I'll be sending out e-mails to all my friends. One of our main objectives is to expand our membership beyond the entertainment industry.

OK, I'm sleepy now so I'm going to head off to bed. There are a few things I want to write about, so I'll post tomorrow.

How well do you know me? (non-Facebook)

You can leave the answers in a comment or e-mail me.

1) What is my all-time favorite movie?
a. Auntie Mame
b. Pride & Prejudice
c. Circle of Friends
d. Love me if you Dare
e. Superbad

2) What is my favorite season?
a. Spring
b. Summer
c. Fall
d. Winter

3) Who is my all-time favorite actress?
a. Julia Roberts
b. Nicole Kidman
c. Rosalind Russell
d. Sally Field

4) What is my favorite ice cream flavor?
a. Butter Pecan
b. Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
c. Pecan Prailine
d. Rocky Road

5) Who was the special guest at my going away party from SpecPub?
a. Jason Statham
b. Johnny Hazzard
c. Luca DiCorso
d. Roman Heart

6) My all-time favorite music artist is:
a. Celine Dion
b. New Kids on the Block
c. Tori Amos
d. Matchbox 20

7) My first concert was:
a. Tori Amos
b. Bruce Springsteen
c. New Kids on the Block
d. U2

8) Which book do I read once a year?
a. Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy
b. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
c. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
d. She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

9) How many times did I see NKOTB in concert since last year?
a. 0
b. 1
c. 2
d. 3
e. 4

10) How many kid(s) do I want to have?
a. None
b. 1 - just one is enough for me
c. 2 - one of each
d. 3 - 2 boys & 1 girl
e. 3 - 2 girls & 1 boy

11) Who is my BFF?
a. Lisa
b. Minerva
c. Marisela
d. Maricela

12) If I wasn't at work, I'd be....
a. shopping.
b. at the beach.
c. at home asleep.
d. on the bus.

13) What state did I go to for college?
a. California
b. Massachusetts
c. Maine
d. Minnesota

14) This TV couple will be together forever...
a. Brenda Walsh & Dylan McKay
b. Buffy & Angel
c. Joey & Pacey
d. Zach Morris & Kelly Kapowski

15) If I could make my living as anything I wanted, it'd be....
a. an actress
b. a singer
c. a novelist
d. a dancer

16) If only given the options below, which drink will I always choose?
a. Water
b. Dr. Pepper
c. Sprite
d. Caramel Frap with extra caramel
e. White Chocolate Dream

17) What cell phone network do I use?
a. AT&T
b. T-Mobile
c. Verizon Wireless
d. Nextel/Sprint

18) If I was running out of my burning house, what items would I grab?
a. photos, picture frames, digital camera
b. important documents, wallet/purse
c. laptop, external drive
d. digital camera, external drive
e. The house is burning, I need to get out

19) What is my middle name?
a. Rosa
b. Ramona
c. Catalina
d. do I have a middle name?

20) My first ever alcohol drink was:
a. Beer
b. Wine
c. shot of whiskey
d. some sort of mixed drink

How well do you know me?

Take this quiz and let's find out.

http://apps.facebook.com/quizdoyouknowme/take_quiz.jsp?q=11808658&key=A6SH

Well, it only works if you're on Facebook.

I'll try to post it up later.

Mr. Putnam!!

I was walking through the SG Street Fair Saturday when I walked by a booth manned by SGHS Key Club and my KC advisor and AP US History teacher was there.

He retired from teaching a few years ago, but is still the KC Advisor and coaching football. He's retiring from coaching next year and is looking for someone to take over KC; someone that's going to stick with it.



YAY! MR. PUTNAM!!

Should I respond?

He text me. He read my post Didn't kiss me like before and apparently felt obligated to address the whole son issue. I haven't replied. This was about four days ago. A couple of days before that I knew he'd read it because I saw in my stats that someone in his city accessed my blog. Sure, it could have been anyone, but I was pretty sure it was him.

I really don't know whether or not to respond. I know it sounds mean, but I don't really care. And frankly, his excuse for not telling me brought up so many other issues that there really is no point.

There's a part of me that wants to reply, but only so he knows his excuse didn't shut me up or put me in my place about the issue. Like I wrote, the other part of me doesn't care and doesn't see the need to engage further.

I don't even understand why he even bothered to text me his reasons. I mean, I don't have a magic coochie (pardon my french), so I doubt that it's because he wants to keep a west coast lay on reserve for the once-a-year visits. Well, maybe he does, but it doesn't have to be me and I'm probably not the only one anyway. Our tryst was kinda one-sided. It was all about me. ;) I so didn't mean for that to happen and I felt guilty about it, but I was the only one that got off (multiple times) that day. It just sorta happened. Sorry. :(

Anyway. I don't understand. It's always been clear that all I've been to him is a long-distance booty call, as Uni put it, so why even excuse yourself? Is it an ego thing? Like, "oh no, the fat girl's not going to be the one to put an end to things." (Yes, the same way I'm milking the "emotionally unstable" bit, I'm going to milk the "who's going to hire the fat girl" sentiment.)

If he happens to come back onto my blog, I guess this will do as my reply. I'm also surprised he even came to it as it's been a long time since he had...oh well. Maybe one day I will learn to keep my mouth shut. don't think that's ever going to happen. ;)

My M.O.

On Wednesday, I went to Burbank to meet Uni for lunch at Porto’s. (mmm, Porto’s) Our lunch turned into 3 hours and then I ended up having a caramel frap from an Albertsons’ Starbuck’s and reading for 2 hours while I waited for Uni to get off work so we could head over the hill to the Westside together. The commute went rather smoothly considering it’d been raining on and off and LA drivers are at their all-time worst during rain. (Oh no, a little rain and I’ve suddenly forgotten how to drive. Well, not me, them. I don’t drive, remember?) Once over the hill we decided we were hungry again and ended up heading over to Souplantation. (I hadn’t been there since leaving the Westside in ’08; oh, how I missed thee.) We sat and talked while eating for another 2 or 3 hours.

I was beginning to think I was in the clear; that I wasn’t going to be trashed for leaving my job. It was almost 2 months. I had laid low; hadn’t contacted anyone. I essentially disappeared. My sources told me it was well over a month before the realization that I was no longer with my former company. Boy was I wrong. I hadn’t reached out to any of my “supposed” contacts, and honestly, I wasn’t planning to, but I was set to resurface now that I was confirmed as a board member for Young Variety and my first board meeting was approaching.

And so it began.

My former mentor, a woman I long stopped trusting, by the way, set about to learn what she could about what I was up to. Of course, she thought she knew what had happened, but she knows shit. And frankly, I’m not about to start filling in the gaps for anyone, and most definitely not her. I know she just wants information to take back to my former employers. In the midst of trashing me, she has sunk to the lowest anyone can. Not only is she rewriting history, since she can’t criticize me on my work, she’s gone the personal route. I’m immature, emotionally unstable, and I’m fat. Who in their right mind is going to hire the fat girl?!?

Two things went through my mind upon hearing this.

One, what a fucking BIATCH!!!

And two, I was reminded of the first chapter of Jen Lancaster’s (third) autobiography, Such a Pretty Fat, where she’s called a fat bitch and she just responds, “Yeah. Like I haven’t heard that before.” Seriously man, she couldn’t come up with something more creative? She had to resort to calling me fat? Oh my god, puh-lease. It almost makes me laugh knowing how truly pathetic the whole thing is.

All I can say is she should watch what she says because if anyone can burn her, it’s me. And if I was a lesser person, burn her I would. But I’ve kept my mouth shut about her, my former company, my former bosses, everything. I knew full well the consequences of leaving the way I did and I took that responsibility fully.

In all of this, I’ve done what I’ve needed to do; I’ve put myself first and have taken care of the person that matters – me. I’ve been conscientious of how my actions have affected others, and I have sacrificed a great deal and risked many relationships, but I had to do what was best for me. I have not put this on anyone else. I’m letting things fall as they may. You want to continue a relationship with me, great. You don’t, so be it. There’s nothing I can do to change things. We all have our own decisions to make and I made mine.

Of course, the better part of our lunch and commute over the hill covered this topic, but at dinner, even though every now and then a reference to it would be made, it had grown tired. There are only so many times I can call her a biatch. (That’s not entirely true.) As I’ve mentioned, these last few months there’s been resurgence in communication with former high school and college classmates, all thanks to Facebook. This has especially been true for one friend in particular from college. We’ve been chatting online later in the evening. We’re both night owls. He usually doesn’t go to bed until 2am and since we’re both in Cali, it works out. He’s up in San Fran and I’m in SoCal. In college we carried on a NorCal vs SoCal rivalry. Fake, of course. ;p

I had mentioned him to Uni before and we were discussing his current marital situation, one I will not go into here. In the course of this discussion, I ended up telling her how we’d met in college and how he was the one that changed my views on drug use, well, recreational drug use, like marijuana, not hard drugs, even though I personally have never tried them. I felt like I was boring her because I ended up going into my extra-curricular activities with the student government, and once you get me started with that, well, I get all hyper and just keep going and going. Before long, I’d gone back to my high school years with all my club involvements and everything; more boring stuff. :(

By the time we sat waiting at the airport for my bus home, I was lamenting that I was no longer that girl from high school and college and wondering what happened to me. In high school, I was not A-list popular, but a nerd, yet, I was still well-known. I was involved with numerous school clubs and had leadership positions in all of them. I led several clubs; increased membership, interfaced with faculty, planned events, and had absolutely no problem leading meetings. I didn’t have a problem reaching out to new members and including them – how else was I going to increase membership, by standing quietly in the back? Uh, no.

And college was the same thing, though, this time with both student government and student organizations. I was involved in search committees for new admissions staff, college deans and other staff. I was involved in college committees that brought awareness on violence to campus, responsible for setting student life guidelines, and entrusted to wisely allocate all funds to the 80 plus student organizations on campus from the student life fund. Twice I had to convince the student body that I was the right candidate for student body government positions.

And now? I have such a difficult time mingling, making small talk with strangers and my own clients. I go to events and sit apart with my own people, staying in my comfort zone. So what happened to me?

As I recounted the stories to Uni of how I became involved with everything I did in high school and college, she said I haven’t changed. Nothing was handed to me. I worked hard to earn those positions, to gain the respect of everyone, and I did that by letting my work speak for itself. From my 9th grade Algebra 2 teacher that favored the boys in the class and recruited them first, even though I was just as good a student; it wasn’t until I beat both of them at the end of the school year for the class’ top spot that he recruited me into the math and science club. Where I went on to be President my junior year and was responsible for increasing membership and continued the groups success in academic competitions. My KC advisor that had apprehensions of my being President my senior year because I hadn’t been a great student in his AP US History class the year before (I suffered from Junioritis – complete burnout.) and feared I had too much on my plate like my predecessor to do what was required. As I stood ready to graduate, my advisors for both those clubs recognized their errors and regarded me as the best thing to happen to them.

In college, the love of my life, budget committee – I poured myself into it, but I didn’t even begin as a full member, I was the 2nd alternate, didn’t even have to go to the meetings, but I did. I went to all of the meetings, even started going to all the senate meetings, and worked my way up to full member and then, I was in charge. It wasn’t handed to me, I had to work for it, show that I knew the guidelines inside out and then suddenly, everyone was telling me to run for treasurer; that I was the best candidate. The Latino organization shunned me for my first year and half because I didn’t automatically stand up for them in bc, but after all my hard work and fixing mistakes made by the previous treasurer, I was accepted with open arms, and then I was helping with events and a co-chair for the group.

Uni pointed this all out to me and said it’s my M.O. (hee hee). I gain the respect of others through my hard work. I overcome obstacles put in front of me by others based solely on their expectations of who I am and what I’m meant to do, to change their views and prove my worthiness. That’s what I’ve done now and why I’m on the board. She said she wouldn’t be surprised if I was leading it in a few years as it fits with my M.O.

The following day, I had dinner (mmm, sushi) with Mari and we were discussing my current situation and everything that’s happened. She says my life has been about expectations. My sister was grooming me to be just like her, another lawyer, but I bypassed those expectations and made my own path, regardless of the disappointment felt by my family. I’ve always done things my own way. Junior year of high school, I took Physics while my friends took AP Bio. I also veered off my academic path to be the spirit squad manager, something my friends looked down on. The more something has been expected of me, the more others have tried to pegged me into this little box, the more I’ve gone out of my way to do what makes me happy, regardless of how much more work that may have meant.

Simply put, in the end, my hard work speaks for itself. That’s the reason my former mentor hasn’t touched that subject to criticize me. She can’t touch me there. No one can. So I will, once again, overcome all obstacles, beat all expectations, and rise again. I’ve done it all my life.

It’s my M.O.

It’s who I am.

Feel like I'm back in high school

(Please note: post begun on June 1, 2009)

In the last few weeks on Facebook, I've been reunited with people I went to school with, and when I say school, I mean junior high and high school. It's been cool and I even took to scanning and uploading a bunch of photos. (Click on the "My Photos on Flickr" link on the left to see them. It's the first time I've uploaded a big batch to Flickr since early last year. Yes, I know, have to catch up soon.) It was fun to tag people and read the comments they made about them. Most of them just wrote how they brought back old memories. Some even tagged others in the photos, friends they're friends with on Facebook, but I'm not.

I have 39 Facebook friends that I went to school with. (The number has gone up since I started this blog post.) That's a little over half the amount I have of college friends. Of those 39, I can count on one hand the friends that I've actually kept in touch over the years and retained a friendship with. The others, well, for the most part, they've added me and I've kept up an amiable online friendship. Usually I just respond in kind with a comment here and there. The obligatory "hi there, how are you" post on their wall and maybe a comment or like on one of their photos. With some we've e-mailed on Facebook with a lengthier catch up on the last 13 or so years. Some I've been trapped into a short chat session where you really have nothing to say to one another.

And of course, there are always the "we need to get together" to catch up comments. My response is always "sure, let me know what works for you" and then silence for the next few weeks, wherein the subject comes up again. I've only actually gotten together with one of them, that, of course being the long lost friend that is now gay. I'm OK with this. (We can add a second person to this list now – that I’ve gotten together with, not that he or she is gay.)

So, why do I feel like I'm back in high school?

Up until recently, many of my school classmates were not on Facebook or even MySpace. As Facebook has grown in popularity, there's been a convergence of former classmates; getting back in touch and asking "did you go to our 10 year reunion?" Seriously, I have not heard a yes reply to that question yet.

On MySpace, the class of 1995 seemed to be doing a good job of having get-togethers. Maybe none of them went to their reunion either.

My class, on the other hand, was non-existent. Until a few months ago. I received an IM from a classmate that added me to her friend's list. After idle chit-chat, she informs me there's a group of them trying to organize a get together as none of them went to reunion and it's been years. She says she’ll be sure to let me know when they plan it. I say cool, let me know.

I'm doing my usual Facebook rounds, hitting pages here and there, seeing what's up. Of course, some of my friends are friends with other classmates that I also knew but I haven't added and they haven't added me. I'm very hesitant about adding people because I'm never quite sure they'll remember me. As I'm doing my rounds, I notice comments referring to a get together, a mini-reunion that's been planned. One of them is even flying out from Boston for it. (It helps that he's a flight attendant for Jet Blue.) The weekend their planning it for happens to be the birthday weekend for the girl that IMed me and told me she’d let me know.

She didn’t tell me about it. No one did. And now I’m like, “after all these years, I’m still not a part of the cool kids.” Well, it’s not like they were all so popular, but you know what I mean. I feel like I’m back in that place. The fuddy-duddy girl with so many other things to do she can’t possibly have time to hang out, go out, or be invited to parties.

I want to scream from the top of my lungs “HAVE YOU SEEN THAT PHOTO OF ME AND JASON STATHAM?!?!?” I’ve been to Showest, sat at tables next to Jason Statham, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Larry the Cable Guy, tables down from Dane Cook, gone to lunches and dinners honoring some of the best actors of our time and up-and-comers. And up until recently, there was a VP title next to my name. What are you doing?!?

Why do I even care? These people are not in my life. They are inconsequential to my life. There are plenty of people that do care about me and are frequent in my life. Aren’t there?

Geez, am I just being snobby again? It feels like it, no?

But it’s also another thing. When you spend so many of your formative years with the same people, it’s inevitable that you’re going to be pegged into a certain persona. There are certain expectations. Going away to college, where absolutely no one knew me, I finally felt like I could be me. I was me. Now, having so many former high school classmates in my life, it feels like I’m being reverted back to that girl. The girl I stopped being so many years ago. The girl that really was never me. And this girl, the one I really am, is not being seen.