Happy 100th post to me!
It's only taken me 10 months to get here, phew. Somehow I feel accomplished, and tired. And proud! Dang proud. I've spent a lot of time in the past telling myself that I'm just not cut out to be a writer. This blog is one of the teeny, tiny ways I'm proving to myself that I can be a writer. (can too!)
Tomorrow Janey and I are taking a little mini road trip. She'll spend the weekend with her grandparents (thanks Mom and Dad!) and I get to hang out at a beach house with my girlfriends from high school. This year marks our 20th high school reunion. I know, I know. Hard to believe, cuz I'm so darn youthful.
I'm looking forward to the laughs and the walks on the beach as well as the walks down memory lane. We'll eat a lot of See's candy and Chickie Dip (cream cheese mixed with salsa...who knew?) We'll probably watch old Seinfeld and Friends episodes (Can you Spare a Square?) and laugh about our white pumps, neon hoop earrings, frosted pink lipstick and feathered hair. We'll go through the yearbook remembering old crushes and arch enemies. We were a dorky bunch, and we had a lot of fun. These gals make me laugh like no others.
Not long ago I was telling the kids about the 80s: the hair-dos, the music, the politics. Later that day we were riding in a 1984 Crown Victoria (don't ask....it seemed like a good idea at the time, I'm trying to sell it). The kids fiddled with the power window buttons and ran their hands down the smooth velvety covered seats. Janey noticed immediately that there were lighters and ash trays at all four windows.
"Mom, why in the world would a car need so many lighters....and ashtrays?"
I fumbled for an answer. "I don't know sweetie. I guess it was a lot more common for people to smoke back then."
Now whenever I talk about my teenage years, the kids refer to the 80s as: "That time when everyone smoked." I read the other day that driving conventional cars will be like smoking for our kids' generation. If only we knew better.