Sunday, August 28, 2005
Hopkins - Class of 1985
Following is a bio that I've submitted for my 20 year highschool reunion memory book. I probably won't go to the reunion. Not because I'm overweight, but because I hated highschool and had no friendships from then to maintain over the years. I went to my ten year reunion because I had just met George and he talked me into going (after buying me a very expensive Tahari gown). Then, I looked like a model - or had the figure of one. So it was fun to show off what happened to the class geek. After arriving, I felt it was just a huge waste of money. I enjoyed seeing my brother who shows up for highschool reunions, but not for family events. Everything else seemed so out of time. The same people still organized in the same cliques.
The best part, really, was seeing Reed Herman (I hope he Google's himself). He was another odd duck in school, but managed to gain some nice friendships. He survived a fair amount of brutal abuse in school. He then showed up at the reunion in a tuxedo and looked HOT. His friends joyfully surrounded him and most people couldn't take their eyes off him. (I'm afraid I didn't create that much of a stir. 5'10" as a size 10 may seem like a major accomplishment for me - but for the rest of the world, there are a lot of skinny people out there.) Really, the most memorable thing about it was the "deep" conversations with George about what kind of family I want and having sex with him for the first time in my Dad's guest room.
Well, here goes...
This is me today – well last year (see photo in blog profile). The lines are getting more defined and what was processed highlights last year, has now become natural gray (it catches the light better – who says gray is bad?). I no longer have my yearbooks as they’re tucked away in my sister’s attic in Staten Island, so I can’t show a comparison. Frankly, I think I look better now than I did as an awkward, pimply, terribly self-conscious teenager although unfortunately, I still have the occasional zit.
This is my family. (see photo above) If any of you recall me at the last reunion, I married that foolish man who talked me into going there in the first place. He’s not really foolish. In fact he’s brilliant. And being married to George, I’m guessing, is like being married to Richard Feinman.
By no easy means, we managed to produce offspring. Chloe is my reason to gratefully leave the frenetic pace of life sucking, corporate slavery just in time before all hell broke loose in NY and for MCI. Today she is my occupation and my love along with writing, photography and whatever creative obsession that’ll grip me.
I used to live in a terribly cool loft right on NY harbor in Brooklyn complete with a view of downtown Manhattan and the Trade Center. With my high-powered telescope I could even see what kind of soda was setting on my husbands desk on the 103rd floor (that's right, where the first plane hit). About five years ago, my husband so cleverly tricked me into moving back to the Midwest. We now reside in Chicago in another terribly cool loft with a great view of my neighbor’s (and friend’s) loft. I cannot imagine what it would be like to live in a home where the floors are level, the windows actually keep the winds out, and the heating system doesn’t sound like “Stomp”. Instead of moving the suburbs for the sake of my child, we instead bought a farmhouse in Indiana that we frequent. I grow organic vegetables, make my own fruit leather with produce from nearby farms, and enjoy long bike rides through the countryside that typically end at the beach. I doubt I could ever return to the gray conformity of the suburbs.
It is hard for me to think of a favorite high school memory. Not that there weren’t good moments, because there were. But most of it was sheer pain. It’s terrible being the outcast, the geek or the nerd. I bet I speak for many. For whatever reason I never found my niche and my best friends were my step-siblings, Beth and Bill. I am forever grateful that they always stuck by my side, no matter how socially inept I was. I hope to think that this terrible experience formed my strong character today. Thank God we can never go back.
Posted by Dominique at 2:10 PM