I’m really excited about this weekend. I’m heading off to my 20-year high school reunion in sunny Tucson, Arizona. There’s something so peaceful about flying into the Old Pueblo. The golden brown mountains rise up, and as the sun sets the sky turns a brilliant orange. Then when you step off the plane and breathe in the clean, dry air you feel like you’ve never taken such a deep breath.
But back in the day I thought it was a vast, dusty wasteland that I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of. I dreamed about living in a place where your lips don’t crack and bleed in the winter and you can go outside in the summertime. A place where it rains once in a while and one of the major holidays isn’t rodeo week.
Those things are funny now and I love going back. Even though I hated it growing up, my kids think it’s the best place in world, exotic and slightly dangerous (snakes! cactus!). And I can’t wait to see my old friends. I have to admit I’m one of those few people who had a good time in high school. I wasn’t cool or popular, but I had very good, smart, funny friends who I’m still close with today. If it weren’t for those girls, I don’t know what would have happened to me.
Here’s one of the more hideous pictures of me. It took a lot of time and hair product to get my hair that big.