High School Musical: McDonald's

We're all in this together...

This weekend, I celebrated my 5th year college reunion. What a shit show. And I say that with a profound sincerity. I feel like I regressed all the way back to my high school days... And so, to honor the occasion, I'll blog about this weekend using a High School Musical metaphor - thanks, MH, for the idea.

Mr. Danforth! This is a place of learning, not a hockey arena.

Who really knows what to expect at a reunion, am I right? I mean with everyone so plagued with thoughts of insecurity (married? masters? phd? working? unemployed? single? pregnant? boring? fat? skinny?), who can really predict how everyone will react when confronted with that bitch who stole my boyfriend, I mean... or something.

Oh no, no, no, I was just looking at all the bulletin boards. Lots going on at this school. Wow.

MR came into town on Thursday night, so the weekend started off innocently enough... with carne asada, a little ugly, a little anatomy (v. disappointing), and some shots. You know, the usual.

Friday's latin party was... well, latin. And that was great. But otherwise, you know... it was what it was. MR and I felt like mean girls again, so that was fun. And MR's friend's father "invented pesto" - if that's even possibly verifiable - so she really felt like Gretchen Weiner. Ahhh, memories... We did up Old Ebbitt's and saw Blythe Danner, so that was terrif. And ended the night at a decidedly 'old girls' midnight o'clock.

Hip hop is my passion. I love to pop, and lock, and jam, and break.

But let's get to get to the good stuff: Saturday night. It was a night of windy-city nonsense, gold and sequins, flats, baby doll dresses, pencil-thin mustaches, boob jobs, nose jobs, dye jobs, vodka tonics, vodka sodas, vodka in general, and gin. Gin, gin, gin. Turns out - avoiding wine was an excellent plan. Good thinking, me.

But yeah - saw tons of people that I didn't even remember I knew, and I'm pretty sure they felt the same way... so it was fun to see what people looked like, what they were up to, and what they were (still) drinking. I have to say, I think the women aged better than the men - as a whole. New connections were made, old friendships were rekindled, and obviously tons of memories were rehashed. It was fun.

And then, the party moved on to Rumors.

Yes, Rumors.

I know... Rumors. RZ would be so proud (and she was - I obvi texted her).

Once I adjusted my expectations (just like Izzie adjusted hers with her interns this week), I had an even better time... kickin' it next to the boat (oh RZ! you would have loved it)! I drank more, made less sense, talked, talked, talked, and danced to "Gimmie More," in an homage to the Britney we idolized during our GW days. It was just like old times, only now we were the old timers, and the 19 year old GW assholes treated us as such. Good thing non of the 50+ of us that migrated to Rumors from K Street Lounge even pretended to care.

It's a crowd favorite. Everybody loves a good jazz square.

And then, McDonald's for Big Macs, Mandy-drama, small fries (ha!), and more windy-city nonsense... I laughed so hard I cried, and then laughed all over again. High School Musical: McDonald's edition was a total success.

When we left each other for the night, it was totes like this. It was super convenient we all dressed the same because it really brought out the spontaneous choreography.

So in the end, IDK... I had the best time with my BFF MR, so MYOB... word.