I’d Like To Thank The Academy…

I’m a very unlucky person.

Raffles, contests, awards, the lottery, the Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes, the Nobel Peace Prize, Skee-ball at Chuck E. Cheese…I never win anything. My luck is terrible.

But Lori, you’re probably saying, you’re lucky to have your family, your health and your job.

Yes, that’s true. So I guess I’m a winner at life.

And I’m a winner at the game of Life…but mostly because I cheat.

I’m also a winner of this fine prize:

Yes, I won a Peter Potty flushable toddler urinal (but that's a story for another day)

So, like I was saying, I never win anything anything good.  I was starting to feel as unlucky as the Chicago Cubs. But suddenly, my luck turned around. Imagine my surprise when I received this:    .

My friend Julie was given this Stylish Blogger Award and she was kind enough to pass it on to me. Julie is definitely a stylish blogger. Me? Stylish? Blogger? Uh, no. I suspect that when Julie gave me this award, her judgement was impaired from all the paint and glue fumes she’d been inhaling. You see, Julie is a crafting nut. Seriously, she’s a nut. Nut was her description, not mine. I never call my friends nuts. Well, that may not be true. As Justin Bieber says, never say never. (GOOD LORD, I’M QUOTING JUSTIN BIEBER!  HELP ME!) Julie’s also “an Oprah-Martha Stewart-Peter Walsh-Food Network-TLC-entertaining-organizing-lifestyle book reading-junkie”. If you gave Julie a glue gun, fabric, glitter and googly eyes and put her in a room with Martha Stewart, Julie would totally kick Martha’s crafty ass. I don’t know who Peter Walsh is, but I’m sure Julie could kick his ass too.  Julie’s blog is a showcase for her creativity and you should check it out. 

Thanks to Julie for my Stylish Blogger Award. I can’t believe I actually received a blogger award. I keep expecting  Kanye West to pop in, take my award and say, “Imma gonna let you finish writing your post, but Beyonce is the most stylish blogger of all time.”  That would be weird. I didn’t even know Beyonce was a blogger. But since that hasn’t happened yet, I’ll hang on to my award and put it in my sidebar, where Kanye West can’t get his grubby hands on it.

Yes, I think my luck is changing. 

That Distinguished Alumni Award from my high school will be mine in no time!

Has Facebook Killed The High School Reunion?

I graduated high school in 1990. In November 2010, our class gathered for its 20 year reunion. (But because I suck at blogging, I didn’t blog about it until now.) When I first received the information about the 20 year reunion, I thought, 

Go to my high school reunion? No way! 
Not a chance! 
Only when hell freezes over!
Or when that Justin Bieber kid cuts his hair!

There was no way I could go to my 20 year high school reunion. I was still way too mad at my high school best friend Kelly for stealing my boyfriend Dylan when I spent that summer in Paris. Then I remembered that wasn’t me…that was Brenda Walsh from Beverly Hills 90210.  Huh. I guess I missed my 10 year high school reunion for nothing.

Since my slutty ex-best friend was a work of fiction, there was no reason not to go to my 20 year high school reunion. Right? Wrong. There was still another reason why I was hesitant to attend the reunion.

Facebook.

Who needs a high school reunion when we’ve got Facebook?  I used to spend countless sleepless nights wondering what my old high school classmates were up to. But Facebook solved that problem. Thanks to the miracle of Facebook, I have instant access to a classmate’s birthday, marital status, city, education history, occupation, kids, pets, height, weight, shoe size, bra size, favorite Starbucks coffee drink, high school locker combination, social security number…pretty much everything.  Plus, I can check out photos on Facebook to see who’s addicted to Botox and who really needs to put down the Ding Dongs.

Facebook has killed the high school reunion. Things you learn about classmates at reunions like who’s married, who’s divorced, who’s fat, who’s skinny, who’s bald, who likes to wear a pirate patch for fun, have already been revealed by Facebook. The element of surprise has been taken away. And that’s why I was reluctant to attend my reunion. I mean, since I already know everything about my classmates from their Facebook pages, why would I want to see them at a reunion? I imagined a conversation would go something like this:

Random classmate: Hi! How are you?
Me: Good. How are you?
Random classmate: Good. I saw on your Facebook page that you’re married, you have 2 boys, and you’re a doctor.
Me: Yes, that’s right. I saw on your Facebook page that you’re single, you’re a yoga instructor but your dream is to go back to school to study astronomy.
Random classmate: Yeah, I just love horoscopes!
(awkward silence)
Me: Alrighty then. See you in 10 years at the 30 year reunion.

Thus, I decided not to go to my 20 year high school reunion. Then some friends who were going were all like, You’re not going? Oh, you have to go. It wouldn’t be the same without you. You HAVE to go! I’m not easily swayed by peer pressure, so I still wasn’t going to go. But then I realized, hey, I’m married, I have 2 kids, I’m a doctor AND I weigh the same as I did when I graduated high school.  Why wouldn’t I go to my high school reunion and rub it in my classmates’ faces spend time with my former classmates?  

So I went to my 20 year high school reunion. And guess what? Facebook has not killed the high school reunion. Sure, Facebook has beat up the high school reunion a little bit, kicked it in the nuts a few times, but reports of the high school reunion’s death are greatly exaggerated.

Contrary to Mark Zuckerberg’s popular belief, not everyone is on Facebook.  I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. There were many classmates at the reunion who aren’t on Facebook. And there was a baby at the reunion and I’m pretty sure that baby isn’t on Facebook either. Yes, a baby. The baby belonged to an old high school friend of mine. This friend is not on Facebook so I was quite surprised to see her. And her BABY. Unfortunately we weren’t able to catch up since she had to leave. Because she had to get the BABY home. But that’s OK, because if we did have a conversation I’d be too distracted by Reese Witherspoon’s voice in my head saying, Look at you, you have a baby…in a bar.  

I guess the element of surprise is still alive and well at the high school reunion!

Another advantage high school reunions have over Facebook is alcohol. Reunion + open bar = drunk classmates. Talking to Drunky McDrunkerson at the reunion was highly amusing. You can’t get that drunken entertainment on Facebook. Sure, you can have a Facebook chat with a friend who’s sitting at home in front of their computer drunk without pants. But it’s not the same as chatting with a friend who’s drunk without pants in person. I’m kidding about the pantless part. Everyone at the reunion was wearing pants. Almost everyone. I’m pretty sure that baby wasn’t wearing any pants.

But the biggest surprise of the night was that people read my blog. Shocking, I know. Several people came up to me and said, “Oh, I heard you have a blog” or “I read your blog”.  People I hadn’t seen or talked to in 20 years were reading my blog. And they liked it!  

People actually read my blog.

Uh oh. People actually read my blog.

Since I don’t know who may be reading, it looks like I’m going to have to censor this post. No gossip about the reunion. No comments about which common high school reunion clichés came true. No comments about why my friend said that everything was finally right with the world.

So the high school reunion is not dead; Facebook has not killed it yet. Would I go to my 30 year high school reunion? That’s a good question. I’m sure sometime in the next 10 years, my high school will award me its Distinguished Alumni Award in recognition of my accomplishments such as this blog. And successfully removing a condom from a patient’s vagina.  So I’ll definitely have to go to my 30 year high school reunion to rub the award in my classmates’ faces. I mean, to spend another memorable evening with them.