The 5 Year Reunion- Really??

You know, there's really nothing I love more than a great idea. Unfortunately in my experience, most of my great ideas, or the great ideas of those closest to me, sound really great in theory. In practice, they almost always never turn out as expected.


Example: As a 10th grader, being at the ripe old age of 16, I thought that it would be a really great idea to get my belly button pierced. My best friend was allowed to pierce hers in 9th grade and I just didn't see why I couldn't have mine done, too. Being that I was underage and would need parental consent, I casually brought up the idea to my parents, who wasted no time laughing in my face at the thought of me even having the courage to ask. I was pretty furious with them for laughing off my great idea. At one point, my best friend's mom, who was "cool enough" in my eyes to allow her daughter to pierce her belly button, told me that I should come up with a written list of reasons why I should be allowed to do have my belly button pierced. I could then give the list to my mom and dad to try and convince them further to allow me just this one piercing. I kid you not- reason #1.... was this:

"I know that a big concern of yours is that my shirts are not long enough to cover my midriff. If I had a belly button ring, and it started to show, then I would know that my shirt was too short and inappropriate. A belly button ring would be like an indicator for whether or not my clothes are okay to wear to school."

My poor, poor mom and dad. 

Now of course, that reason alone, along with the other reasons I pathetically tried to scrounge up to get them to say yes, didn't end up working. And being that most of the time having my parents say "no" to me made me want to rebel against them even more, I took matters into my own hands. I received word from a very credible high school friend source that a new Asian nail salon down the street did body piercings WITHOUT the permission of your parents! You could be a minor and it made no difference. Now that sold me. I was going to pierce my belly button and there was nothing my parents could do to stop me. 

I really wish I would've been smarter. What turned out to be this cool nail salon ended up being one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had. I was taken back into this dark room of the nail salon, the smell of acetone filling my nostrils like a slow, lethal poison, by a woman who spoke barely any English, and sat down on an unsanitized massage chair (which they used for massages, of course) and promptly had a hollow needle the size of a drinking straw DRIVEN into my STOMACH! Not my belly button. MY STOMACH. This woman did no sterilizing, no numbing of the area, no explanation for what was about to take place. I mean, really. Was I that desperate? You bet. I didn't say a single word. No matter how bad it hurt, how much I knew this wasn't going to turn out, I didn't care. I was taking matters into my own hands. 

I walked out of Tiffany Nail and Spa on Larpenteur Avenue with a brand new piercing that day. But I warn you, it was not the belly button piercing I anticipated. It was a stupid, botched STOMACH piercing, meaning she missed the mark on where to actually insert the needle, and I had a horrible ring hanging from the wound that said "FLIRT" in swanky font. I was mortified. And I instantly knew what my parents would say to me when they found out... "You should have listened to us!!!"

It has been seven years since the day I decided to take matters into my own hands. The belly button ring has since been removed. In fact, it didn't last more than two days. I told my mom (who is a nurse) with embarrassment and she not only refrained from telling me off, but took me into her office to make it better! Unfortunately, it was too little, too late. I still have the scars from that dreaded needle and "FLIRT" ring. Tiffany Nail and Spa closed down not long after I went in for my "procedure." Again... what a great idea in theory. In practice? Not so much. 

I bring this up because it relates directly to the fact that about two months ago, I got an invitation on Facebook to my five year high school reunion. I wasn't aware that people did five year reunions, but apparently, the organizers from the class of 2007 decided to be different and hold one this summer for the sake of getting together, catching up, and seeing old friends. My immediate thought was "Hm. What a great idea in theory." But then when I started to think about who I was in high school (AKA the idiot who got her belly button pierced at a sketchy nail salon) I began to think otherwise. I began to reminisce about the days of old, the times in high school that have long since passed and taken the embarrassing memories with them. Is it really necessary to get together after only five years to bring up these times in the past that I'd sooner rather forget? 

I made the mistake of telling this to my good friend Lauren, who I graduated from high school with. I should have bit my tongue because Lauren told me that she was one of the organizers of the event! She also proceeded to tell me that they have received little support and lots of complaints about the event on Facebook. My favorite comment as I was scrolling through the feedback... 

Owen Patrick

this makes me want to shit blood

Oh to be that blatantly honest. I felt bad that Lauren was putting in all this effort into something that people were being kind of rude about. I started to re-think my attitude toward the reunion and it even prompted me to look back at some of my high school memories. 

Found my letter to self, a project in 9th grade Language Arts addressing yourself as a senior. I'm loving the handwriting.

Proof that I actually "did" high school.

The envelope containing my letter to self, also containing my forgotten obsession with Ashton Kutcher, Justin Timberlake, Orlando Bloom, and of course, the Real Slim Shady. I also must have had an obsession with myself since I felt the need to include my awful 9th grade yearbook photo among the ranks of hotties.

 It was actually pretty fun to peruse back on these memories and then think about the more embarrassing ones, like the belly button story. I could include the memories of when my best friend (same one from the earlier story) and I decided to take my parents van for a joyride at age 15.. and got caught. Or the story of when we TP'd my own house (yea, really). But those are for another blog post at another time. 

I continued to go through the Facebook group and was actually pretty surprised to see that lots of my classmates have gone on to do some really cool things. Lots of them live in other countries. A handful are currently in medical school. Quite a few have kids (nothing like breaking from tradition!). Quite a few are married or engaged, like me. And quite a few, as to be expected, are doing the same old thing that they were doing five years ago, living in Roseville, working the register at the local SuperAmerica. Nothing wrong with it, but it does kind of make me laugh to see how things have, and have not, changed. 

Last Monday, Dusty and I went and saw American Reunion at AMC. If you are (or maybe aren't) an American Pie fan, I would recommend the movie either way because I thought it was pretttttty funny. And it kind of lightened my outlook on high school reunions. If the classmates of East Great Falls, Class of '99 can hold a 13 year reunion out of the convenience of marketing a potential movie blockbuster, why can't the Roseville Class of '07 do the same for the more logical choice of 5 years? So my conclusion after talking with Lauren, and reminiscing, and seeing the movie, was that maybe I will give the reunion a go. What could it hurt? And maybe I will walk away from it with unknown stories similar to mine with the belly button. Who knows. Sometimes I still can't believe it's been five years. 

Ladies (and gentleman) of 2007, you may be seeing me soon! Check me out, front and center. I'm reppin' the Dasani water bottle.