This weekend has been ALL about blasts from the past some of whom I wish would stay in the past, some of whom I'm glad are still blasting away.
On friday about an hour before I left for the day read (mentally I checked out before I got in due to the events friday morning) I received an email from one of "the ex's" someone whom I only harbor wonderful and terrible memories of. He apparently wanted to see what I was up to, what I was doing, etc. etc. and so forth. Thankfully right after we broke up I moved to London so I had the opportunity to not only put distance, but boys with all types of cute accents in between me and him..... the last time I saw him he was blackout at Sadlands and he came up to me and professed his undying love for me, I don't forsee any extreme level of communication to be forthcoming. Closure party of one, I believe the table for closure party of one is now available.
Saturday for dinner I, along with my parents went out to dinner with a family friend whose children I grew up with and known since we were all in kindergarten, the famous spaghetti fight of '88 is still the talk of the Uppity Waspy Neighborhood. Unfortunately they are involved with a not too cute public scandal that's all over the news at the moment and is therefore very nervous, touchy etc. Dinner came to a halt when the family friend said in reference to the money she makes on the side, "I think that's tax evasion if I don't declare it, but that's ok, if I go to jail I can share a cell with (name of person involved in scandal)".... thank GOD my wine glass was full....all I'm sayin.
Saturday night after dinner, before I went out out, I went to a party that was the celebration of one of my fellow graduates from the best school in New England birthday. Saw a lot of fellow 'cats' and caught up with one of my straight boyfriends from college that is now engaged to a girl that we were both on the swimteam with. He is two years older than I and I always regarded him in the "wow he's so cool and older than me and I want to be JUST like him" type of relationships. He was one of my hosts when I was a swim team recruit and likes to think he's responsible for my ending one of the two nights I stayed spooning a trash can and singing the words to Backstreet Boys "I want it that way". Apparently the legend is that if you make the pre-frosh throw up on their recruiting trip they'll go to (Best school in New England).
.........I applied and got accepted early decision.........
1 comment:
Does that mean I have to bring them cookies in the slammer?
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