Until a Facebook page was set up for my high school's 20 year reunion. Within hours, an army of my classmates had joined. Things just got real, people.
Assuming the reunion will take place over the summer, I have about 4-5 months to undergo as much plastic surgery as humanly possible. I'm not aiming to look like Michael Jackson, I'm just aiming to look eighteen.
I've loved sun, food, alcohol, having babies, and all sorts of things that have taken their toll on my middle-aged body. I started to panic.
But then I remembered, I'm already on Facebook, and I do post pictures of myself. Not the weird, artsy, one-eye and half of a nose kind, but of my whole face (and sometimes my body if I'm feeling adventurous).
I took a deep breath. There will be no surprises. Or surgery. I will continue on my strict diet of bagels and white wine and look forward to the day that I can see the smiles of my old (long-time, not age) friends.
Maybe if there is a freak cold front, I can wear this.