Excuse Me, But Why the Fuck are You People Getting Married?

I had long been under the impression that the only people whose entire senior class had gotten married by this point were rednecks from flyover country and my two old roommates from the outskirts of Carson City. In other words, people with nothing better to do. But an old friend who is a friend of the blog sent me some links that sent me into convulsions of revulsion, realizing that maybe Seattle is not so cosmopolitan as we would all like to believe.

If I had started a pool my senior year as to who would be married by this point, I think Fat Mormon Joe would have topped the list. Most Mormons not married by now are more or less assumed to be gay. Although, now that I think about it, even Fat Mormon Joe's brother, Gay Mormon Mike, is "married." But no, no, the links I was sent were not to the White Trash girls who used to go smoke Crystal Meth at Lunch or the Puerto Rican Princesses (PRP), half of whom had their kids at graduation, but rather the 5 or 6 thin, tan, preppy girls who bucked the then-popular trend among Seattle women to wear nothing but flannel and not shave. In other words, the hot chicks.

Here we have Kirstin. Kirstin was a friend of mine my Freshmen year until for some reason she decided not to be, possibly when I gave her a set of ankle weights for no apparent reason. Her mom is quite possibly the best Spanish teacher on earth and well-prepared me for a life in Latin America. Perusing their wedding website, it seems Kirstin and Erik were married in June of 2005, somehow managing to omit me from the invitation list. It's okay Kirstin, you can consdier those ankle weights your early wedding present. Apparently Erik lives in San Jose while Kirstin is working for a local TV show in Seattle. Yes, long-distance relationships and working in entertainment alaways spell happy marriage to me. I'll give you my uncle's card at the reunion.

Next we have Ramey. Ramey was actually my stunt partner for a brief time (yes, I was a high school yell leader, now fucking drop it) until one day she slipped on a dismount and I accidentally felt her up. I don't think she would have been so upset except that my first reaction was "That was your boob? It felt like a rib." I guess small-chested teenagers don't take to well to you not realizing you are feeling them up when you are. Oh well, I guess this explains why I wasn't invited to this one either.

And lastly we have Terra Meistrell. Terra was a nice enough girl in High school, and was even a co-worker of mine at Tony Maroni's pizza for a brief while. She actually managed to pull off the hot, skinny girl look while still being neither hot nor skinny, being the only girl in the clique with a beer gut at age 15. At any rate, she was a raging cunt the last two times I saw her, and therefore I have no qualms discussing her now. Terra and Peter apparently met playing Golden Tee, which is cute I suppose although I think the only person I ever met playing that game was a coke dealer named Sherm. They are getting married a week before the Super Bowl this year, and have also mysteriously left me off their guest list.

Looking at the wedding party, there is a girl named Ara Sleeth, who if you google under her maiden name you get my blog as the #1 response. It is a sad, sad thing when the most noteworthy thing you've done since High School is being mentioned on my blog. Of course, if you google my name you get a driving school in New Jersey. Also included is Lia Ramos, who was hands-down the hottest girl in my High School. That, of course, was back when I considered girls named "Ramos" attractive. Google her and you get four pages on a former Miss Philippines (not her) before you get to White Dade. The rest of the party is a venerable who's-who of 1996 Seattle Keg Parties, so I'm guessing the White Hats will be in full effect for the reception.

My point today, aside form making fun of a bunch of people I haven't seen in several years and surely providing some sort of drama for our 10-year reunion in November, is this: WHY THE FUCK ARE ALL YOU PEOPLE MARRIED?! What kind of backwater freaks get hitched before 35? Seriously. I know these were the hottest girls at my high school circa 1997, but guys, they were the hottest girls at my high school circa 1997. That's kind of like buying the nicest house in Compton. They do not rate forgoing all future tang for the rest of your freaking lives. And ladies…..you are all still hot. You need to spend this time getting as much free jewlery and trips to Bimini as you can. Argh. I need to go throw up and bang a hooker now, once again reminding myself why I am so much cooler than everybody I went to High School with.