I’m going to San Francisco next weekend for mother’s day. By myself. As in, alone. Solo. I absolutely cannot wait. I’m having a sorority reunion. Yes, I know I know. Sorority? Why? Because that was all there was to do in Stockton California, and it was really, really fun. We all lived in a big house with a house mother, a cook, a costume closet with outrageous outfits we would wear for no reason at all, a big sleeping porch which was like a big attic with a bunch of beds, and a secret room with a secret staircase leading to it. It was awesome. Now, this was the late 80’s early 90’s, so cell phones were nonexistent. So was the internet. We had three phones upstairs and one phone downstairs. Those phones rang and rang and rang and rang because no one wanted to answer them. If you answered one, you would have to haul your ass all over the house to find the person it was for…..and they were never where you could easily find them. Then you would have to take a message. All of this would seriously cut into our 90210 and Twin Peaks viewing time. Thus, the constant ringing. This was a place where they had to lock the kitchen at night and that still didn’t keep drunk girls from digging the key out of the house manager’s underwear drawer to eat cold meatloaf and pork chops from the pan at 2 AM. It was about as stereotypically “sorority” as it could get – with the bitching, the breaking out into song at the dinner table (I shit you not), eating disorders, mild alcoholism or sexually promiscuous behavior (take your pick), the late night membership meetings that were super, SUPER secret, drinking on the sun porch and the back lawn, formals, exchange parties, pinnings at dress dinners….it was awesome, though I didn't know it then. Back then I was just a little bit above it all, involved but with a sardonic eye. After reading some emails from some of the girls, it is clear to me how much freaking fun it was, and how I wish I could go back and soak up every minute of that self-absorbed existance again. I will have to settle for a self-absorbed weekend with them instead, and I can’t wait.