Oh yeah, I’m going!

I got my official invite for my 20 year high school reunion.

I didn’t go to my 10 year reunion for various reasons.  The first being was I didn’t really like anyone I went to high school with.  The people that I wanted to see were people I never lost contact with.  The second reason was that I had just had a very nasty divorce and brought nothing to the Reunion Table.
“And how have the last 10 years treated you, Kristine?”
“I had three kids, I lost my mind and had an affair and my husband and I just got a divorce.”  There was no way to put a spin on my life to make it sound any better than what it was.
The day of the 10 year came around and I didn’t really care, nor did I feel like I was missing out on anything.

With Facebook I have reconnected with many of the people I went to school with and low and behold, I wasn’t the only one who went through shit in their life and skipped that reunion.
There is something about the following 10 years that, in reality, weren’t any better, but gave me this amazing insight to how I view my life. I just don’t give a fuck anymore.
“So Kristine, how has the last 10 years treated you?”
“I raised my 3 beautiful children, went to college…but never use my degree, Got married and help raise his two children, bounced around from lame job to lame job, Found out my husband is a sneaky, cheating bastard, got a divorce, took up skydiving and hiking and I LOVE MY LIFE.”

There is the issue of my weight, that in the past kind of bothered me.   It no longer bothers me. Not because it’s rockin’ hot or anything. I just don’t give a fuck anymore.
I finally figured out the pattern to my weight loss and gain. It has nothing to do with the food I eat or do not eat and it’s not measured on how much time I spend in the gym.  My weight pattern is in direct relation to being a relationship.  I’m almost pretty certain that if I stopped eating all together and worked out like Brad Pitt before a movie where his shirt comes off and I was in a relationship, it wouldn’t matter…I would manage to gain 15 lbs.
Now if I wasn’t in a relationship I could sit on the couch, covered in Dorito dust watching Tivo’ed episodes of American Pickers with an IV of Pepsi being pumped into my system and actually LOSE weight.
So yes, for those of you that are paying attention.  Penis makes me fat.

That brings me around to, who is my plus 1 at this little shindig?
Yes, I could bring someone…just not the someone I am currently dating.  This is how the conversation would go:
“You want to go to my high school reunion?”
He would then calmly get up from the spot he is at, go into the back yard with a large machete and hack down some bamboo.  After doing so he would fashion them into weapons and hand them to me.  “Here, shove these under my finger nails and take anything with a blunt end and hit the bamboo causing them to rip my nails off. Do them one at a time please.  When we are done doing that, the water boiling on the stove can then be used to soak my ball sack.  If we have time after that I thought a little water boarding would be fun.”
To say he’s not really big on anything that requires socializing with anyone other than myself or his children would be a massive understatement.
If I really wanted him there he would go.  This isn’t something I would ever require him to do. I’m saving up all these for something big, like if someday I might need his liver or for him to make me a poptart.

So you might be asking yourself, if you have actually read this far, I thought she wasn’t in a relationship.
I am not in a relationship. I’m dating someone.
We broke up awhile ago and then he probably hit his head and realized he wanted to get back together.  We were together for about 47 minutes before we realized that any form of commitment, which is not limited to people even using our name in the same sentence, was far beyond anything we could do.
To make things easier for others, when describing him I will refer to him as my boyfriend.  On those rare moments, a small kitten is strangled to death by a python. I try not to do it very often for the love of those poor kittens.
I wish there was a term that was on some level between dating and relationship.  Like say, “we are in a Intimacy Exchange” and people would understand that it’s not a booty call, because sometimes he will wash my socks when I am over at his house for more than a day. It’s more than dating because I no longer sit by the phone wondering if he liked my dress and will call back for a follow up ‘date’ that will involve kissing on the front porch.   (he could care less what I wear, as long as it doesn’t have too many buttons or complicated straps) (I don’t have a porch).  It’s not a relationship because if it was we would both break out in hives and our eyeballs would explode.   You think I’m exaggerating right?  Once we tried the ‘Keep a drawer at the others house’ and the dresser actually opened the window and flung itself out.  Now we just keep ‘bye-bye bags’ in the car.

The end result of the 20 year high school reunion is that I would like to go.  I’m not really certain why…I keep in better contact with people because of Facebook and I actually really like these people I went to high school with now.  I think our kids made us better people.
At this point the conversations will go something like this, “ SoinSo, what was your single biggest accomplishment of your life?”  and 90% people will say, “Raising my children.” And that will be cool.  The other 10% we can sit and talk to them about how they dodged the kid bullet and/or marriage train, take notes and try to remember what it was like to actually have money, listen to music that we like, have anything saved on our Tivo’s that isn’t Glee or every show ever produced by the Disney channel.