Instant Solution

Sure ... there is a circle of life. When something ends, another begins.

But what about when something you ended begins again? And it's...GASP...not the same?!!

In high school, I over-involved and over-achieved, and one of my biggest commitments (and obsessions) was the speech team. Yeah, yeah...guffaw, guffaw.

But some of my best friendships and most marketable assets were cultivated while a member of this team. Speech team meant this: 6 am bus rides on a Saturday, suits and heels, sharing your message with a room of people, laughing, crying, and, of course, winning. Nude hose were sacriligious and lipstick was not an option. We were talented and we had fun.

When I signed on as the assistant speech team coach today (so. freakin. excited.), I had to fight back a lot of nostalgia. I found a little bit of who I am on my former speech team. We were a family of 124 members that experienced joy and pain, huge success and *extreme* loss. As we used to say, speech team was more than words.

Well, when I returned to my high school this afternoon for our first team meeting ...I was at a loss for words. The over 120 person team is now...20. The team office is now...dirty storage closet. And lipstick seems not only optional, but not even encouraged. I know, I know. Please. Silence your outrage.

Beside myself, I did my best "compose yourself" speech team move and fidgeted throughout the haphazard meeting (w/0 agenda!) till the coaches met together. Another coach and myself have been brought on this year to help the team re-build, and he was a breath of fresh air. I hope that together we can make the speech team illicit the same respect it once did.

I understand that things change. Groups change, people change. Things change. (For someone who cried when the wood-burning stove got switched for a newer one at my grandparents' house, this is hard for me to accept.) And, you know, even part of a [social] butterfly's life is metamorphosis.

When trying to avoid a second date with some rando guy last year, I rattled of some social events for my various clubs and associations. Membership was down, we had exchange students...I stepped in and planned a cocktail hour meet and greet, an italian aperitivo, and coffee dates. He looked at me, bemused, and said: "So what you're telling me...is that when there is a crisis, your solution is to throw a party."

He may have been a boring accountant who ate sushi with a fork, but hell, not even I could have said it better.

So, socials, I'm going to do what I do best: throw a party.

And then get down to business.