That time has come.
I thought it would never happen.
Watching Romi and Michelle made me dream of a reunion full of high fives and just desserts, but as with most things…movies may have steered me toward unrealistic expectations.—Where are all the talking animals, I ask?! Where?!
It’s been 10 years since I graduated from high school and though I fit somewhere in the middle…Biology geek, cheerleader, art/choir nerd; I think that I was remotely memorable. My Facebook would have me believe that I am still in-touch with all those folks and their inevitable *baby-flood but it’s just a hyper-social sham. I don’t really care that you bought a burrito at Shopko today. Who are you again? I’m sorry………………. . . . . . . . not.
———-This is probably a good time to mention that I am A) Unmarried and B) Without Children, which is why I have enough spare time and brain power to make crazy shoes and write a marginally funny blog. Just fyi.———
ANYWAY FREAKING WAY, I am undecided on returning to the scene of my teenage “spring.” The same awkwardness that taught me to be sarcastic as an adult was in full gangly limbed effect back then and I’m not sure I want to relive that, even for 1 night…though I would like to rub my latent sexiness in a few faces. Hmm, Yes. Let’s focus on the sexiness as we contemplate an outfit for the occasion.

Nothing screams “Hey jerkface, you made fun of me in high school; now weep like baby over how hot I am” like midriff cutouts. Seriously, trust me.
It’s not for another month so there will probably be more posts with varied anxiety levels as the date grows closer. I may have some PTHSD (Post Traumatic High School Disorder) to get all over y’all. You’re welcome. Some thoughts on outift complimenting shoes…


I prefer simple, black shoes with this dress because it has so much going on, but a flirty metallic could work too. Just stick to a simple silhouette or you could tasefully get your Ne-on….haha get it, neon?! I’m so awkward.

*There was a dam that was holding strong until year 26. Cracks started to form, I could see trickles of pregnancy status updates taking over the feed…then 28…TWENTY-EIGHT!!…The weight of all those Instagrammed “baby pix” became too much for her and she burst. Babies. Just babies everywhere, not an empty uterus in sight. ‘Cept mine, this here be baby free y’all.





