I’ve really only got three things on my mind this morning – the house, the reunion, and a headline that reads, “boy finds Welsh mountains, wins 25k”.

The house – we’re closing tomorrow at noon. Everyone keeps asking if I’m excited and honestly I have to say that I’m not. We’ve got a big move and there’s just too much to do to get excited. I look at the sea of cardboard in our place and feel overwhelmed, and then I do just about anything to pretend the boxes aren’t there. Jay actually has to move things out of my line of site if I get a certain crazed and frustrated look on my face. In fact that frustration, which comes from an inability to focus, seeped into our big office lunch yesterday. One of the directors had to move something from in front of me because I was quietly freaking out. Of course, she did it with a smile and a “mama will take care of that.” Ugh. The more we pack, the more the junk in our place seems to multiply. I think it’s growing from some malicious intent to really push me over the edge. My real reprieve from boxes has been killing 15-year old kids online. “Take that little Brandon Born with a Controller in Your Hand, you’re up against a Pong master! Fear my X,Y oriented wrath.” I know, I know, I’m a menace. Now say that sentence like you’re channeling Ben Stein.

The reunion – wow, what can I say about it than hasn’t been said a million times by a million other people and doubtlessly better than I could say it. I heard from my friend Karen who sent me a note with the subject line of “Do you remember me?” Then I just felt bad because it reminded me of Tammy’s lament “no one will know me, why should I bother.” If I had forgotten Karen, I would have forgotten a big piece of my high school experience. Karen is my kind of geek. How do you forget the person you sat outside a theater waiting for the premiere of “The Wrath of Khan”? In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw the premiere of “Indiana Jones: Temple of Doom”. It was the only movie I’ve ever screamed in. Hey, I’m not a fan of bugs – don’t you judge me. I had such a fit I threw popcorn on the people behind me and got the look from Karen and a girl named Andrea. I was later admonished and told that Andrea’s mother didn’t like screaming in movies. Well, I’m glad she’s a big fan of bugs, but I’m not going to take them on the big screen sitting quietly.

The one funny theme I find is that everyone focuses on this kid Mark, including me. I don’t know why it is that he is the poster boy of what we don’t look forward to, but there’s no way around it; he just is. He was an athlete, popular, in all the honors classes, hung out with the “right” sort if there is such a thing and married his high school sweetheart. That last bit gives me the willies in major ways. High school sweetheart marriages are up there with kissing cousins in my book. I mean hey, it’s your right to never leave high school, but go out and experience the world. It’s a great thing that I’m not judgmental.

One of the people I do hope shows up is a gal named Lara. Some of you know the Lara story. She’s the one that pressured me into finding out what my class standing was in 9th grade – when it doesn’t matter. Lara was #4 and I’m sure she was hankering to gloat. I came back from the registrar’s office giddy and dropped the news on Lara “I’m in the top 3; they won’t tell me my place.” (That was the only time I ranked that high thanks to a year of Geometry.) Lara’s face crumbled and then she went onto explain how stupid and undeserving I was. Let’s just say that come graduation day when there was a close race for valedictorian and salutatorian and all three contenders had to write speeches I laughed in big ugly ways as Lara sniffled and blubbered her way across the stage. She came in 3rd. I’m a grudge holder – don’t you judge me. The valedictorian was the head cheerleader, which made Lara’s loss even more delicious and at least up until college Lara felt this girl had cheated her way to the top.

Anyway, I’m trying to stack the reunion so that people I like will be there. At the last one only Ernie showed up. Marco, Rocco’s brother, gave me the slip – the ol’ “I’m going to get a drink and be right back” only never to return. “Guy, I didn’t even want you within 30 feet of me, stop pretending like having you breathe air around me was some sort of special treat.” Really, the highlight for me was at the family picnic when a gal named Paula, who had been a model, sat dramatically by the pool with a big floppy hat while her scantily clad boy toy fanned her and slathered her with lotion. I don’t think she interacted with anyone, she just posed and got fanned.

That’s my 2 cents on the reunion.

Kid Finds Welsh Mountains, Wins 25k – Were they lost? How did they misplace the Cambrian Mountains? Do people lose their job for that? People who write headlines that greet you like this first thing in the morning should be shot unless they forward along heavy doses of caffeine.

I’ll try to think of stories, but right at this moment no one is acting out. I’m out of anecdotes. Hopefully, after the move and closer to the reunion I’ll have something.

I will leave you all with one bit of advice – Let’s say you’re talking to people you used to go to school with and were maybe neighbors with and you’re thinking “ugh” – just mention that their brother is nuts and you frequently see him dancing in their family’s store window. Those people will go away. Don’t you judge me.