What was your label?

I went to a very large high school. There were over 700 kids in my class (711 to be exact). In a school of our size (over 2500 students), there weren't just cliques, there were sub-cliques, and even sub-sub-cliques. It wasn't just the usual Jocks, Brainiacs, Band Geeks, etc. It was more like the Jocks-who-were-also-Stoners and the Stoners-who-were-also-Band Geeks. I fell into the Jocks-who-were-also-Braniacs, although oddly enough, I was neither a jock nor a Braniac. I had attempted stardom at both, and failed miserably. It took me several tries to make the tennis team only to sit on the bench the whole year. I took AP English, but struggled my way through general Chemistry. I was definitely not "popular" - but I had enough friends to make High School a bearable part of my formidable years without too many emotional scars.

Part of my high school reunion is tonight. It's the "casual" get together at a pub. As of yesterday, I've re-bailed on the "formal" night. This is a result of my last ditch effort to find something fabulous to wear. Everything I put on made me look like a stuffed sausage. Stuffed sausages are neither sexy nor classy. Unless perhaps you are a purveyor of fine ground meats encased in membranes. Uck. And I am chock full of hormones that make me just weep about every 30 minutes.

So, tonight I will attend the reunion. I will see the other Jocks-who-were-also-Braniacs, and the Stoners-who-were-also-Band-Geeks, and we will compare notes, and see who lives in the most exclusive neighborhoods, who has the best jobs, who has the best looking spouse, and, of course, who has the most beautiful children (or lack thereof). It baffles my mind that many of them are sending their first-born to high school themselves this year.

Perhaps I will tell them that I have 39 holes in my belly where I've been giving myself shots for a week, and that I have approximately 10 follicles that are measuring about 15mm, and that I'm scheduled for a retrieval probably Tuesday of next week and a transfer 3 to 5 days after that. And, that with a great deal of luck, I'll take a test in a little over two weeks that will tell me if I'm pregnant with my first.

But, more than likely, I'll just order a double of something strong, knock it back, and remember the good 'ol days when your label was "jock" or "prep" or "stoner" and not "infertile" or "childless."