Letters, Letters

The other day, the 'chick opened her mailbox to find an invitation to her 20th high school reunion. Has it really been 20 years? Good grief. It doesn't feel like it's been that long, but in some ways it seems like those years never even happened.

The 'chick attended Catholic high school in Illinois. Not for any high-falutin' religious principles on the part of her parents, but rather because the other option was a public high school in the middle of the city in a block that resembled a war zone. It was a huge, hulking building that resembled some kind of Gothic castle and had about 6 floors. Due to the neighborhood and the gangs, it was decided that the precious female off-spring would go to Catholic school.

Roadchick was less than thrilled by this prospect. There was a dress code. Not quite as bad as uniforms, but not Levis, t-shirts, and tennis shoes either.

There was mandatory religion class. Freshman year was Old Testament. Sophomore year was New Testament. In two years, the class never cracked open the Bible that was on the book list as required.

There were prayers before each class, before lunch, before football games. There was mandatory Mass the first Friday of every month.

Amazingly enough, in this rarified, religious atmosphere, there was the usual compliment of personalities that you would expect in any regular high school. There were preps and jocks, cheerleaders and brains, sluts and burn-outs. There were artists and musicians. There were a few gearheads, but they were a rare breed because this school was a college prep school with no automotive or shop classes available.

For a long time, the 'chick struggled with where she fit in. She had close friends and closer enemies. She joined the Flag Corps and helped to revolutionize it from marching with the band to performing from taped music like Prince and the Beach Boys.

She went to class, violated the dress code and got caught a few times, struggled to stay awake in religion class and got busted for talking during First Friday Mass and got sentenced to a Saturday detention, cleaning the convent.

But at some point, the 'chick also grew up a little and made a few discoveries about herself. She was a jock and an artist and a cheerleader. She was a burnout and a brain. And she made friends across the classes once she stopped caring what anyone thought of her.

And all of a sudden, she was so cool and such a rebel. Because she finally had the strength of character to actually be herself.

The 'chick will not be attending her 20th class reunion because sometimes the past is best left there. Her close friends were never from high school - they are here with her now. In all honesty, while there were a few people that she actually liked, she didn't care much for the greater majority of them because they had not yet learned to stop being mean, to stop hating because someone could not afford the newest fashions from The Limited, to stop judging because someone had different dreams than theirs.

But, to the Class of 1987 - here's hoping you realized your dreams, whatever they were. Best of Luck.

Five Questions

1. What did you want to be when you grew up? Why? Why didn't you become this (or did you?)
The 'chick wanted to be a truck driver. Why? Who knows? Except that she really, really loved the song "Convoy". Roadchick's mother did NOT approve of this career choice.
The 'chick is NOT a truck driver but her job does have her on the road a LOT. Except now, it's in a 2003 Monte Carlo named Payback.

2. You're taking a leisurely stroll through the jungle. All of a sudden you see an animal about to attack you. What's the animal and what's it going to attack you with?
A telemarketer. Attacking with free offers and vacation time-shares.

3. Oh my! It's a magical creature and you've been granted three wishes. The first two you blow on silly things like crazy riches and getting back at that person that's always been an annoyance. Now—what's your last "meaningful" wish going to be?
World peace. With a Coca-Cola for everyone.

4. Oh no! You said something wrong and you've been teleported into your worst nightmare. What is it?
Roadchick's mother is moving in. Permanently.

5. On a serious note: Who is your hero and why?
The 'chick would have to nominate her clients. Each of them is mentally retarded and has other developmental disabilities. It never slows them down. They do not know the meaning of the word "quit". And they never curse their fate. They've never asked, "Why me?" They accept and they overcome and they put the 'chick to shame on a regular basis.

Interview rules:

1. If you would like to participate, leave a comment saying "Interview me." Or send an email to the 'chick - if she doesn't already have yours.

2. The 'chick will respond by emailing you five questions. She gets to pick the questions.

3. Update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.

4. Include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you ask them five questions.

It's Just Static

Wow . . . it's been a long time since the 'chick has posted.

And even longer since anything other than internet quizzes or just pictures have been posted.

And, the 'chick sucks.

For being such a slacker.

But, y'all, here's the thing: there is really nothing of interest going on in the 'chick's life at the moment.

There is no drama.

There is no excitement.

Life is good and life is sweet.

Rockboy is doing well.

Redneck is doing well.

Skaterboy is doing well.

Work is busy but not interesting to write about.

So what is a blogger to do?

Everyone once in awhile, a thought will skitter through the 'chick's mind and the thought "that should go in the blog" does occur, but then when there is actually time to do something about it, it's long gone.

The 'chick remembered Talk Like A Pirate day on the 19th, but couldn't even be bothered to post an "Arrrgh" in honor of the day.

So, Patient Readers (the three that remain), thanks for turning up to check for signs of life. The 'chick is around. And sooner or later, mayhem will ensue.

Count on it.

9/11

You are not forgotten.

Copycat - Thanks, Heather!

Your Band Name is:

The Cultivated Sadists

Band Name Generator

The Cure Shares Your Taste in Music

See their whole playlist here (iTunes required)

Which Musician (or Group) Shares Your Taste in Music?

Labor Day 2007

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

The Outlaws have headed for home and things are slowly settling back into what passes for normal in the Roadtrip household. There is still a ton of laundry to do - sheets, towels, etc. but the biggest part of the Houseguest Explosion has been cleared away.

On the morning they left, the 'chick was cleaning up the kitchen and washed 20 coffee cups. The 'chick did not realize that she had 20 coffee cups.

There are no big Labor Day plans planned. Redneck had to work, Best Friend had to fly to Detroit because her grandmother is very ill, Rockboy is planning on going to the movies with Girlfriend.

So, what has the 'chick been doing?

Playing in Flickr. There is also a little photo link to the right.

It's addictive. Go take a look. Leave comments.



The night before the Outlaws left, the Crew went on a boat ride down the Cumberland River. Nothing really funny happened except for this rather snooty pair of people getting doused by a couple of little kids with SuperSoakers. They were not amused. The rest of us were since the male in the pair had evidently rolled in Calvin Klein's Obsession for Men and it was really overpowering. The dousing helped remove some of the scent. But not nearly enough.

The 'chick is going to spend the day catching up on laundry and hanging around the house, resting. Have fun, no matter what you decide to do, and stay safe!