we’re those jerks at the bar everyone hates

My high school reunion is here and gone and feels like some sort of weird nightmare. Not because it was bad but because it resolved in major sleep deprivation. I got to bed about 3 AM (1:30 AM home from the bar, then stayed up with my brother and talked as usual) then was awakened at 5:30 AM by my left breast saying, “Hello! OUCH, asshole! Where is that baby? We need to let some pressure off!” Staggered to the bathroom, sleep-fuzzy, and tried to hand-express enough milk to be comfortable. Back to bed for a couple hours, then up at 8:30 to catch my ride home. Another effort at my aching busom: standing in a hot shower massaging my breast, closing my eyes and thinking of my baby. Like a sexual fantasy almost, but to achieve letdown not orgasm.

It used to be I could take that sort of sleep deprivation in stride. Now it’s almost like I’m a toy with all the springs sticking out tottering about. However, this afternoon I had a three-hour nap with my daughter and am feeling up to life again.

Back to the reunion. I’m sad to report I have no pictures nor stories of colossal humiliation or sleaziness. I am skipping tonight’s dinner-and-dancing soiree so you dear reader will have to sustain yourself on these choice quotes from the “casual night” at the bar:

“If you were wearing a sluttier top you’d be the hottest one here.”
Spoken by: my best friend, to me, upon arrival
State: sober, sizing up the crowd on our way to get beer tokens

“Does anyone have any Vicodin?”
Spoken by: me, to my three girlfriends
State: dismayed at wine-and-beer only bar

“Wow… a skirt and everything. Nice!”
Spoken by: an ex-boyfriend – the only one of three that showed up
State: sober and apparently – despite having slept with me – unsure that I was a woman

“You’re not happy. I can tell! You’re not happy with your life.” (repeated throughout the evening)
Spoken by: one of the “spin the bottle” crowd of boys I immediately identified upon walking in
State: on the way to nicely plowed, and somewhat belligerent

“…And then after he left our house my mom found poopy chopsticks in the bathroom!”
Spoken by: my best friend, of one of our classmates when he was 5
State: tipsy, and amongst uproarious laughter

“Yeah… keep sleeping under your blanket of security! You’re one of those tree-huggin’ freaks!”
Spoken by: divorced-with-two-children Marine who was either A. mean from drink, B. your garden-variety asshole, or C. both (my money’s on this one)
State: very drunk and planning to punch me in the face

“Kelly, you’re leavin? Aw, it was so nishe to see you… My dad… my dad always said {garble garble garble} that Kelly Fisher… such a nice {garble garble garble}… great to see you… {garble garble}” – big massive hug – “{garble garble}”
Spoken by: ex-football player now working locally in law enforcement, reminiscing on our days in Oceanography class
State: very drunk; stupendously, weavingly, resin-chair bustin’ drunk.

My report on 10 year high school reunions? Definitely worth going – but be prepared for surface conversation and bouts of intense existential loneliness.

After the evening of booze, awkwardness, and bravado we were hotfooting it back to PT in the morning. Thanks to favors from family I was pulling in the driveway at 1 PM looking for my children. Said baby and preschooler were so, so, so happy to see Mama – even though she was only gone for 24 hours.

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