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Nashville (Friday): Ketcham High ’94 Girls Reunion

posted by Heather August 12, 2018 0 comments

Meet Jana, one of my absolute BFF’s growing up from middle school cheerleading through high school cheerleading through college roommates through each others weddings all the way up to this weekend.

Oh, and I just thought this was phenomenal…and, 4 years too late.

Jenni is on my left with the fancy hat. She was the girl on our cheerleading squad who had the perfectly shaped gap between her inner thighs and every one of us hated her for it. Oh, and she had a widows peak, that we also hated her for out of jealousy. Hate is a strong word. It was jealous. We were jealous. Happy for her and all…not really…but, insanely jealous. Renata is to Jenni’s left, she is our Mother Hen. We call her Mom. And, thank God because this crew needs a Mom and she’s game. Missy is all the way on the right, with the legs that go on for days. She’s the floater. For the most part, in a very innocent way, we used to be very cliquey. We had our squad and, similar to the way that toddlers don’t even know that there is a world that exists outside of their own, we didn’t really acknowledge much beyond that. Except Missy. She’s always been the only one of us that floated around with everyone from the AP smart kids to the pot smokers to kids from our rival high school, John Jay. She has a heart of gold, laughs as much as I do, is dangerously close to as much of a space shot as I am, has super cool style, lives in Hawaii, is married to a man that Ben really likes even though he doesn’t do CrossFit…which is rare…and, is truly my soul sister.

Every single time Ben FaceTimed me, he was wearing a tank top and driving in his car. It was like the moment I left them, he got in the car and went on a road trip. Over night. It was ridiculous. And, ridiculously funny. Look at that bicep, though. Yummy.

When you go to CrossFit H Dub in Nashville to drop in to class with your besties, and you find a photo of your husband on the wall.

Jana and Jenni were total troopers and rallied to take class with me even though they’re not “CrossFitters”. Jenni and I partnered up for a wheel barrow race game that she (a) starts out by kicking up into a handstand…which is a logistically awkward position to put me in as her partner…and, (b) decides to, mid-race, let both hands shoot out to the side as she totally eats it and blames it on me for pushing her…which is, for the record, what the role of a wheel barrow partner is. On the walk home afterwards, I was commenting on how happy I was for all of the people that got to ring the PR bell because they got their first HSPU’s, to which Jana unleashes her rage-a-holic side and snaps back at me about how SHE never got to ring the bell even though it was her first time doing a CrossFit class. I kindly reminded her that we were going to start making efforts to think about others before we think of ourselves. Which she, again, snapped back at me for. Which we, then, started to remind her that she should take her pills. Trey and Lacey, the owners, could NOT have been nicer or more attentive to these two newbies and, in all seriousness, made this one of my best experiences dropping into a CF box while traveling. And, I’ve dropped into a lot of boxes over the years. THANK YOU for that.

They’ve even created, with their members help, this Guide To Nashville with lists of places to eat and things to do while in their super awesome city. Definitely stealing this idea from them for CFNE.

Came DANGEROUSLY close to giving into this temptation.

After CF H Dub, walked ourselves straight up to the Westin’s roof top pool bar for the rest of the afternoon. You know you haven’t missed a beat when, within minutes of saying hi for the first time in 25 years, you’re stripping down butt-naked in front of each other getting changed out of spandex and into bikinis. Like, these girls have seen my bare ass so many times streaking through Eric Birchard’s neighborhood that there’s really no point in “going to the bathroom to change” anymore. BTW, watch that hand Renata, or so help me God I will feel Jenni up again. Or, credit card swipe her again. Or, motor boat her, which is what I really wanna’ do.

When this total rockstar offers to take the photo for you, and then is totally game to take a selfie WITH you. LOVE that.

When I drink, this is what I order for lunch. Go ahead. Judge me. It works for me. Ok. It. Just. Works.

She will go nameless, but when I asked her what size shoe she wears, her response was, “Well, I was a 7 1/2, but with my bunion, I’m an 8.” Wow. That’s sexy. Do me. With your bunion.

Seemed like the natural time to start talking about boobs. So, we did just that.

We OUT, kids. Onto our insane house that we could only afford because there were 8 of us going in on it.

This was a scene…like when I got into a fight with the cashier about why she didn’t card me. Like, it was awkward. Super awkward.

The view from our rooftop deck. Nashville quickly turned into my favorite US city. The sheer level of creativity and artistic influence everywhere you go is enough to make me want to move here permanently and raise my family in this sort of culture. I LOVE NASHVILLE.

No really, Jenni. Make yourself comfortable, girl.

Dinner at Sunda.

Maybe one of the funniest photos I have ever seen in my entire life…which I received in a text message while I was “napping” back at the house while these animals were on Music Row. IN MY DEFENSE: I had woken up at 1am FOR THE DAY this morning, and this photo was taken at 10pm. Yes, it was after a fair amount of day drinking, but not ONE of those drink glasses are mine. But, yes, I did a lot of napping during dinner. *tired

Meanwhile, Ben took the kids hiking up Blue Hills back home. He is definitely more of a parent than myself for that one. *winning

 

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