The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Class Reunion Weekend! (and a poem) September 17, 2010

Hello all.  I was just re-reading the last few entries I’ve posted, and I realized I sounded kinda… intense.  Kinda wound up, you know, all angsty, extra-long sentences, stressing out about everything under the sun.  So I decided I needed to write an entry that was a little more mellow.  More contemplative, meditative, kinda chilled.  So right now I’m listening to a podcast by two doofy, redneck liberty enthusiasts, one of whom I go to church with, so it’s a real hoot to hear him talking about what he’s drinking, saying things like ‘sweet hot violent magical mama parts,’ talking about snorting blow off hookers’ butts, and cussing like a longshoreman.  Ok, that wasn’t what I planned to talk about.  My class reunion weekend has finally arrived, and that’s what I wanted to talk about in this relaxed, chilled, calm little post.


So I’ve been out of school for 20 years this year.  I graduated in 1990, when things like Google, iTunes, the World Wide Web, and even cell phones and Starbucks had barely been heard of, and stamps cost $0.25!  My cousin and I were making some posterboard photo collages for the reunion and those pictures were so hilarious!  Talk about some big hair and crazy clothes!  But the shocker was how young we looked!  We looked like babies.  It’s amazing to think that my daughters are now only about 10 months younger than I was when I graduated.  Looking at them now, I remember how I felt at that age, how I thought I was so grown up and mature.  They don’t even look their age to me!  And I think about when I had my first boyfriend, and my parents were always driving us around and we were kissing in the back of the van, and maybe it’s just a lack of memory, but I don’t remember them acting like it bothered them that much!  If I were hauling my girls around these days and they had boyfriends, I think I’d make the boys ride up front with me and the girls in the back seat by themselves! 


Anyway.  Class reunion.  I’ve been on the planning team for this thing from the beginning.  We’re meeting tonight at the Homecoming football game, sitting together to cheer on the old team, and seeing each others’ kids and all.  Tomorrow night, we’re having a classmate-and-guest-only, catered dinner and dance at the Elks’ Lodge.  (I know, I mentioned that before and it sounds so small-town, but that’s because I live in a small town! And proud of it!) 


Anyway, the big news is, I took a chance and invited someone to go with me.  He is someone I met back in March and have been talking to and texting off and on since then, hung out with a couple of times.  I thought he’d make a fun reunion escort, and he agreed to go.  I’m really looking forward to spending the evening with my new friend and all my old friends, looking back and remembering, having a good time. 


And now it’s time for me to post the poem I’ve been saving, the piece I wrote for our last reunion, the 10-year we had in 2000.  I hope it speaks to everyone.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…



Class Reunion

Tonight we celebrate a time when our tomorrows outnumbered our yesterdays,

When dreams and hopes, plans and ambitions all lay ahead of us, ours for the taking.

We remember moments.  That big touchdown, that homecoming crown,

That final grade, that first big date, and all that they made us feel.

Back then everything was bigger than life.

Every joy, every sorrow, every love, every hate, every thought and fear,

was the defining moment of our existence.

Remembered through the mist of passing time,

Very little seems to have been so crucial as we thought.

Disappointments we thought would crush us then, seem humorous and trivial now.

Happiness we thought could never be surpassed was only the beginning.

Ten (20) years gone past, in some ways the blink of an eye.

In some ways they seem a lifetime.

Tonight we catch a glimpse of ourselves as were were then-

The brain, the jock, the homecoming queen, the lonely outcast and the center of attention.

Some were on top of the world, some foundering hopelessly lost.

Ever wonder which ones were which?

Yet all of us have found our way to this time and place.

We’re smiling, we’re laughing, looking back, looking forward.

We know so much more than we did then.  And so much less than we thought.

We are so different, and so much the same.

But whether we run a bank or a Burger King,

Balance payrolls or checkbooks,

Perform brain surgery or kiss babies’ skinned knees,

Chase hardened criminals or sticky-fingered toddlers,

Reach the medal podium or sweep the floors,

We all share a special past.  We hope for a happy future.

We steer our ships toward our own horizons.

And our tomorrows still outnumber our yesterdays. 

D.D.-    June, 2000


Until next time,



I Had No Ideas Whatsover! (Wonder how you say that in Spanish?) August 24, 2010

Hello all.  Tonight is one of those nights where I don’t have any particular ideas in mind, or things I really want to talk about, so I’m just going to start typing and see where the road leads.  I apologize in advance for the loss of the next few minutes of your life, but gratefully thank you for reading!


My son cracked me up this morning.  I was still on my own bed, but I was yelling at him, asking if he was up yet.  He didn’t answer, so I yelled his first and middle name, and I heard this exasperated, sighing, more than a little annoyed voice answer, “YES, MOTHER!”  🙂  Then again, he always cracks me up.  He prides himself on his funny little antics and absolutely loves making people laugh. 


Great thing today- we got rain.  I mean real rain, not one of those that’s just enough drizzle to make the grass strain upward desperately and beg.  It sprinkled a few days ago, which was good, but it wasn’t enough.  We hadn’t had rain in so long, I turned on my windshield wipers and they looked at me with puppy-dog eyes like they didn’t know what to do!


I was reading some other blogs this morning.  I should never do that.  It just gives me a complex and makes me feel like I should give up writing and apply to clown college.  Some of the writers out there seem soooo talented.  Some of them just like to say f*ck a lot. 


My 20-year class reunion is coming up next month.  I absolutely deny that I am old enough to have been out of school for TWENTY years!  I was a child prodigy who graduated from high school at age 10.  That’s what it is.  Yeah, that’s my story.  What do you mean I’m full of crap!?  Well who needs you, anyway?  Oh that’s right-  I do, or this thing would be non-existent!  Ok, so the reunion is coming up and I don’t have a thing to wear!  It’s not a fancy-schmancy, la-di-da affair- just a catered dinner and dance at the Elks’ Lodge.  (Boy, does that sound Small Town!)   The dress code isn’t too demanding- it’s just business casual.  The problem is that everything I own is either 3 sizes too big or looks like an old lady, or both!!  I bought a dress a while back, that I actually love, but I don’t have the proper undergarments to wear with it.  It’s a halter top dress, and since I don’t have a strapless or halter top bra, I could either wear a tank top under it or some kind of shirt over it, but I don’t really think it would look right.  So I’m stuck either wearing something I already have that is all baggy and old lady-ish, or borrowing something from I-know-not-whom!  Guess I’ll just have to keep working on it.  The date is Sept. 18, so I have a little less than a month to get this problem solved! 


Daughter S. is taking Spanish this year, and I think it’s going to be really fun to re-learn it along with her.  My poor Spanish teacher in high school only lasted one year because she was not accustomed to what rotten little beasties high school kids can be.  She found out quick when one little punk made a hairspray can torch in the back of the classroom.  Miss Rosa was much better suited to teaching elementary school, I think.  I was showing off to Daughter S. this morning the only things I learned in that class:  the words to La Bamba, and the Pledge of Allegience in Spanish.  (Which I can never recall the first phrase of- arguably the most important part- the ‘I pledge allegience’ part!)  Just for the halibut, I’ll show it off again, minus appropriate punctuation marks:

(I pledge allegience)

a la bandera

de los Ustados Unidos de America.

y a la Republica que representa

Una nacion, bajo Dios, indivisible

con libertad y justicia para todos.


This post is dying on the vine, so I guess I’m going to give it up for now.  The Boy was working on his homework and he decided he was going to “take a break.”  Only now it’s after 9:30 p.m. and he’s not doing homework and he’s not getting ready for bed either, so it’s time to provide some gentle guidance:  GET READY FOR BED, YOU LITTLE CRUMB-CRUNCHER! 


Maybe for the next entry I’ll translate the meaning of the words to La Bamba.  You guys totally better run for the hills! 

Until next time,


(ETA:  MILESTONE!!!  Apparently this is my 100th post!  I know it’s just a beginning compared to some of the blogs that have been out there for a while, but wow!  I can’t believe I’ve already gotten this far!  I’m also pushing 2700 total views since I started this thing.  Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read me, and super thanks to those who keep coming back!  Hugs to you!)


The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Shawn L. Bird

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