What She Wore: Blue Jean capris (what else?); peach, scoop-neck tee, beaded gold flip flops.
Last night I couldn’t sleep, and somehow, I ended up on Myspace for about a million hours. Seeing all those people whose names I can’t remember really got me thinking. Thinking about my Catholic high school at 1 am is a dangerous thing. Here’s what I came up with:
Why are so many people that I know lawyers?
I must be the only person I know who hasn’t been to Grad school–well, I’ve been, but finished? Nope.
We all looked like crap in high school. I think we knew that, but there were no boys around, so nobody cared.
That girl you thought was a lesbian? She is.
That girl you never thought was a lesbian? Her too.
Everyone I have ever known likes the Shop-a-holic books–and I haven’t read one of them.
The girls I barely talked to in high school seem to be the most interesting now–not that it isn’t totally great that ole-so-and-so is a doctor/lawyer/pharmacist and has a nice house and a baby, but the intesting ones are the ones who moved to France, profess a great love of Literature, or write their own music. Everyone else’s lives look boring compared to those.
Who the hell wants to be a lawyer anyway?