Time to dust off the old yearbook

…and maybe even my favorite full-sequin purple prom dress – just to see if I can get a thigh in there. Ah, the high school class reunion. It reared its ugly head a lot sooner than I expected, but I honestly can’t say that I’ve been suddenly overwhelmed with the need to double up at the gym, re-vamp my entire wardrobe, get pregnant, or God forbid, have my happy face permanently affixed with some Botox. I think I’ll just stick to the Crest white strips and my trusty little black dress.

This weekend I will likely recite the story of my life (the past 10 years anyway) more times than I can count bottles of beer on the wall, but is that so bad? I’m happily married (did I mention to my high school sweetheart?), I live in the most amazing city, and I’m more than excited to talk shop and pass out Two Blue Peas business cards to every preggers whose name I can successfully remember.

Sure, I’m dreading running into “that guy”. You know the one. He always goes by his last name (which has to be O’Doyle or Fletch), has a personalized license plate, probably still takes his laundry to mom’s, and thinks he’s entitled to make out with the former Homecoming Queen since he did afterall, help us win state back in the day. On the bright side, maybe he’ll spike the punch again.

Keep cool this summer. LYLAS.

Your BFF,
Sarah