In which I ponder what I might tell my 18 year old self. If I steer clear of grandiose, deep and meaningful (ha ha!) generalizations and stick to the personal, I just might be able to pull this off without my fingers sticking to the keyboard from all the syrupy-sweet-gooeyness.
Ladies and gentlemen, straight from the ballroom at the Madison Hotel, site of the 30th reunion of the Class of 1983… I happily present to you the witty,wonderful writing stylings of one Lizzie Crestview, formerly of the pseudonomymous blogging duo Lizzie and Jane
This past weekend was my THIRTIETH high school reunion. I didn’t think I was the reunion type, whatever that means. I still don’t.