Wandering the halls of BSH*

* And before you ask, yes, my high school was BS High. (Blue Sky)

You know that girl in high school that you never got along with? The one who made your life difficult in so many petty little ways? The one who now sends out shotgun emails about her new quad-level house, her recent vacation to Disneyland and how she is dashing off to “the club” so she has to go? You know that girl? I got an email from her this morning.

Well, I just had to look…. It’s like a car wreck. I see who it is from and think, “I should just delete this.” But do I? No. I read it. I think. I try to let it go. But I have to respond….. You all need to know how it really is. Consider this the Christmas letter I’ve always wanted to write….

You have a fat ass. You have always had a fat ass. Yes, your waist is slender and lovely but cinching a tiny belt around it does not, in any way, de-emphasize the largeness that is your rear. And me? In spite of the THIRTY pounds I have gained since high school graduation I still have a fabulous ass. Know this.

Know that telling me you are dashing off to “the club” does not impress me. My friends & I go to the gym, sometimes, to sit in the hot tub or take the kids swimming and sometimes we even work out a little… but we do not “dash off to the club.” Ever.

You casually drop into an email that you HAD to take a picture of your daughter driving the New Expedition. Yes, I see that it has nice leather seats. Yes, I covet your leather. No, I have never owned a Brand New Vehicle. No, I probably never will. I still have a fabulous ass.

You went on vacation to Disneyland with your small children. I wonder what combination of heavy-duty pharmaceuticals and alcohol made that experience bearable?

It is so good to see that you still wear your hair in that attractive mullet style. Oh, and can I offer a friendly suggestion? Maybe try Rogaine for Women.

You never talk about your husband. Is that because he is a pussy-whipped, miserable little man with a smallish penis? Or are you simply such the perfect woman that you don’t actually need to acknowledge him?

You did so many horrible things to me in high school. It wasn’t a case of the popular girl picking on the nerd. It was really more a case of a mean-spirited, prune-faced, horrible girl trying to make everyone around her look bad so she would look good. Guess what? It didn’t work out so well did it? Did you know we, the girls you knew in high school, all roll our eyes and email each other and talk about what a twit you are?

In a twisted way I feel sorry for you. You are so insecure as to think these things matter. As I grow and mature I look back on your past behavior and I can see it for what it was. Yes, it still hurts, but, really, it was a pathetic attempt, on your part, to get attention. So I forgive you. And I hope some day you learn to forgive yourself for whatever it is you have done that makes you think you need to prove something to the rest of us. We would accept you… hell, we might even like you…. If you would just stop being such a show off.

Oh, and yes, I still have a fabulous ass.