I went to Marycrest High School in PDX, an all-girl's Catholic school (which explains my painfully good manners, expert grammar and punctuation, and marginal lack of respect for authority).
The campus is now a chiropractic college.
But, I'm back now. And it's time to check in with Marycrest High School's Class of 1971:
Here's my RSVP (well, ok, the unedited version):
Of course I would love, love LOVE to attend our 40th high school reunion! Count me in.
The liposuction and nose job are scheduled for next week and the doctor, darling man!, swears the swelling and bruising will be gone by September. I'm holding him to it or there will be 20 lashes with a wet noodle.
Don't make me go there, Doctor Bob, ok?
[Translation: Cripes! Is it too late to grab a spot on "The Biggest Loser"?]
I'm trying to talk The Trophy Husband into coming along just for giggles, but we have this long-standing "thing" with the Grimaldis in Monaco the last weekend in September that may be difficult to wiggle out of. Oh, it's just a silly baccarat tournament, but those Grimaldi boys do love their cards. The Trophy Husband and I may have to split the difference on this one. Fingers crossed *heart*, but I'll keep you posted!
[Translation: The Wonderfully Patient Spouse took a look at the invitation and observed it might be a good weekend for fishing on the St. Joe.]
It was so sweet of you to ask about special dietary needs! Right now, I'm trying this FABULOUS anti-aging microbiotic diet of red algae, quinoa and fava beans for three weeks, followed by a 24-hour vodka flush. I can't speak to the anti-aging component quite yet, but my toenails have never looked better. Anyhoo, if you'd mention the red algae thing to Edgefield (Japanese organic if possible, please), I'd be eternally grateful! You are SO sweet!!!
[Translation: Beer-battered onion rings, STAT! and keep 'em coming, baby.]
Oh, one more heads-up. I may be traveling with my Irish wolfhounds, Giles and Amanda. But only, ONLY, if the Mary Kay Career Car is back from Torino by then. (No one but the Italians can get that shade of pink quite right!)
Those rascal pups. They simply won't travel in anything else! Spoiled dogs!!!!
But, Lindie, I do hate to be a niggler. Even though Giles is quite happy with his rasher of fresh bunnies for brekkie. . . Amanda usually insists on a stag hunt in the morning. Do you think Edgefield might accommodate?
I supposed we have rather overindulged the dogs since the boys went to prison last fall. I knew the Madoffs were going to be trouble from the start. But you know kids -- they never listen to their parents.
Come to think of it, neither do Giles nor Amanda. What's a mother to do?