High School Reunion, Traditional or Biker-Style?

My 30th high school reunion is next April.
(Yes, that's right...30th. It's shocking to me, too, ok? Happily, though, I have not matured all that much since then and I've kind of maintained my youthful splendor so you wouldn't really know how MIDDLE-AGED I am to look at me.)

People from my class have already formed a committee and are deep in the process of planning for "an event not to be missed" that is to be held at a hotel/casino in Atlantic City even though Atlantic City is about 150 miles away from where we actually went to high school.  I know that AC is the location for the "event not to be missed" because invitations to it have already been sent out via Facebook.

When you receive the invitation, you have the option of selecting:

• will attend
• will maybe attend
• will not attend

Initially, I selected will maybe attend because I thought that I will maybe attend plus the "event not to be missed" is 11 months away which allows for plenty of time to fabricate a big story about why I can't attend change my mind.

Eleven months also allows me plenty of time to decide whether or not I will crash this reunion...just like I did for the 20th and the 25th.  That's right, crash.

I want to tell you how much fun it is to crash a high school reunion.  I cannot recommend doing this at least once highly enough.  In fact, I can't even believe that more people don't do it.

What you do is show up to the venue about two hours after its official start time that way it's a pretty safe bet that the dinner part is over and the drinking part is well under way.
Both times that I crashed my reunions they were being held at a hotel so I just sashayed into the hotel bar and waited.
See, there are plenty of people who attend high school reunions that realize at about that two hour mark that they're bored out of their mind and have to get out of there so they make a break for the hotel bar where they're pretty sure they won't have to listen to one more person bragging about how fabulous every-single-day-over-the-last-30-years have been not to mention every-single-amazing-thing their kids have done.

And then they stumble upon me, high school reunion rebel, lying in wait patiently sipping my Tanqueray & tonic at the bar. 

Since, like I said, I have mostly maintained my youthful splendor, it won't take long for them to recognize me and after a few sidelong glances will eventually ask me if I am me and then they will say something along the lines of, "Wait.  I didn't see you in there."
And I will say, "No, you didn't, because I just got here and I'm about to crash the party."

And something from long ago...some kind of long-forgotten spark...ignites within them and their eyes glaze over for just a minute as they recall a time, many years ago, when they actually had some life in them and didn't always play by the rules and then they re-focus and smile as they look at me and say those oh-so-fateful words: "Come on, I'll sneak you in."

At the 25th, that scenario played out so well that word spread like wildfire that I was there and was crashing the party that about a dozen people joined in and were volunteering to sneak me in.  Some people even ran cover to distract the organizers so me and Mister could slink past them and into the banquet room. 
Three-quarters of the people who were aiding and abetting our shenanigans were not even friends with me in high school (I was definitely not part of the popular clique crowd in h.s.)...they just wanted to join in the reindeer games.

Shelling out $150 ($75 per person) to eat banquet hall food with a couple of hundred people that I'm forced to make :::shudder::: small talk with and who I would never otherwise seek out to share a meal or cocktails with and who all will revert back to not being part of my life the very next day aside from occasional Facebook status exchanges here and there...
not to mention the potential for purchasing new clothes for the event and the hotel room and the cash bar and the cost of travel...
Yeah, listen, I'm just not putting out this kind of time/effort/money in the name of some over-organized, over-planned, overrated fun. 

The truth is that I can't even muster up enough rebellion to want to crash this one.  I'm back in touch with some of the people I went to high school with thanks to social networking, which is very nice, and frankly is enough.  I don't need to go through a whole lot of money and trouble just to hang out and drink with them for  a night; I can do that from the desk in my office any night of the week.

 

I think a much more fun high school reunion would be more like a biker rally.  We should put together a giant party on or near the grounds of our high school (because it kinda makes sense to have a high school reunion at the high school, no?) for an entire weekend...and have beer trucks (i.e. keg party!)...and vendors for food and funnel cake and shopping for fun stuff...and 50/50s that benefit various charities...and live music...and t-shirts...and we could even give out beads for those who are willing to show their boobies...although at a 30 year reunion I'm not so sure that would be such a great idea.   

Doesn't that sound like big fun (the biker-type party, not the boob-showing thing)? 

Doesn't that sound better than this:

The one guy is even wearing what appears to be a name tag

My Version Of J'Adore Dior Shirt Complete ! Enter to Win It !

OK, my interpretation of the Dior shirt is complete:

I literally just finished it and it's still drying (which is why it's lying down flat in the picture).

So I'm giving it away at the end of this month to one lucky commenter / love note leaver.

Here are the very simple contest details that do not require you to jump through hoops or visit my non-existent Etsy site or tell me what you were doing on the night of February 19th, etc.:

1.  Leave  me a comment / love note by clicking on 'LOVE NOTES' at the bottom of every post.
2.  1 comment - 1 entry, 2 comments = 2 entries...you can figure out the rest, right?
3.  That is all.
4.  Oh wait, I forgot...tell your friends.

Here are the details for the shirt:

• It is a black cotton ladies-style shirt
• It is a size XL but don't let that scare you because it's a small XL and you'll have to trust me when I say that even someone who is a size SMALL could wear this shirt
• It is 100% handpainted by me so it's genuinely unique and one-of-a-kind
• There are these cool metal hearts floating all around the wording on the shirt
• There is a crystal dotting the "J" in j'adore
• The lettering is glitter-y

Thank you in advance for your entry(ies).

Good Luck!

Typos = Comments?

J'Adore Dior Shirt "Knock-Off" Challenge/Contest.

The other day a friend of mine, the beautiful and oh-so-talented, Sasha Mullins (her accomplishments are too great to list so just click on her name to have a look at her website and prepare to be wow'd!), commented that she saw this shirt on Sex and the City and that she wanted one:

Me, lover of all things thrifty, garage sale-y and Goodwill-ish, and being someone who thinks you're crazy if  you ever pay full price for anything, suggested that she rush over to her nearest craft store and purchase all the supplies to make her own for around 10% of the cost of the above $200 shirt.  And then not only would she be saving lots of $$$ but the shirt would be totally unique, which to me should be the 11th Commandment:   

Thou shalt always be unique whenever possible.

Miss Sasha wound up loving the idea of creating her own...but the she took it one step further by suggesting that I, too, make one and we could compare our handiwork.
Then it got even better when Sasha then put it out to all of her friends by suggesting that everyone make their own interpretation of this shirt and we could show ours off to each other when they were done.

Don't you just LOVE fun people like this?

So my supplies are purchased and I'll likely start on my version of this shirt today if I don't procrastinate cleaning the house some.  That's one of my quirks - I cannot do anything that involves creativity if the house needs attention.  Are you like that, too?  Clutter will throw me completely off.  So weird.

Anyway, I got to thinking that I'd like to donate my shirt but I couldn't think of who/what to donate it to, so I have decided for now to give my shirt away via a CONTEST right here on this blog when it's complete. 
Talk about fun!
Details about the shirt to come but in the meantime, don't worry - I won't make you jump through hoops to enter to win it. 
In fact, from now until the shirt is complete, anyone who leaves a comment (by clicking on the words 'LOVE NOTES' at the bottom of each post) from today on is automatically entered.  And if you comment a lot, then you will have a lot of entries.

See?  Easy!

My Mother's Day T-Shirt.

A gift from my awesome-to-the-10th-power daughter...perfect for me, lover of all things cupcake:

And here are my oh-so-fabulous sneakers:

Fun!

Incog...NEATO!

My very first blog post here at kissylovestuff.blogspot.com.

I suppose I should give you a little background information so you can get to know me a little bit better.
I have to start by telling you how this blog came to be.

I'm not new to blogging; not by a longshot.  In fact, I had a pretty popular blog up until recently that was not under the moniker of Kissy Lovestuff. 
Yes, it's true...'Kissy Lovestuff' is not my real name (shocker!).
I'm not going to use my real name on this blog because of some personal reasons that had to do with privacy and security which convinced me that I needed to pay more attention to that sort of thing and not be so willy nilly with my online identity.

That's right, I was (am) being stalked.
The primary person who is stalking me is someone we know who was part of my husband's past.


But enough about that.

Let's just start this party...





*If my stalker does find me here, that helps me build an even stronger case. Yes, "case" as in legal.