Years ago, I had a t-shirt with the Dave Matthews Band “Crash” album cover on it with one small alteration–it was renamed “Crush”. It was for a date party in college. Date party? you ask. Yes, my friends, I was in a sorority. Surprising since I never really was nor really will remain now or in the future “sorority material”. Although 17 years later, I still don’t know what that phrase means. None of us fit that description. Regardless, my undergrad was enormous, and the Greek system was very small, but it didn’t matter whether you joined or not.
Seven of us got together this past weekend in Oregon for a reunion–the trip I mentioned before in a previous post (Ideas Starting to Move) . The one with all the apprehension. Yeah, that one. The trip was nothing short of
awesome fabulous. In hindsight, I need to a) have more faith in myself b) realize that friends that are more than 13 years old know more about me than I realize and c) never wear overalls and bangs again in public.
Through babies, divorces, miscarriages, horrible breakups, job losses and just life, even though we are not always in the loop with one another, it’s easy to fall back in. We remain a safety net, a panel of judges, fashionistas, globetrotters, independent thinkers, idealists, and even realists. I think we all walked away from this past weekend grateful that we remain friends, happy that we have our memories, and pleased that we all have lives we love. It took a trip to another state to realize that I love my life. I bitch and complain sometimes about trivial matters or not feeling like I am where I should be. But I like what I have. I don’t want what others have. And it goes on and on with all of us… Continue reading