Not Quite World Peace
Spend enough time on Facebook and you’ll soon have years of your life you’ll never get back, and for what? Wasted excitement on fake rumors of a Friends reunion movie in the works? Between passing silent judgment on stuff on my newsfeed while I lurked like a creepy character and being fed lies and conspiracies by share-happy twits, I’m this close to kicking my own rear for subscribing to this mindless modernity.
But I can’t live with myself if I’m not among the first to hear the murmurs, no matter how unfounded, about that long-wished-for High School Musical 4. Except that the murmurs are turning official, and Oh.My.Troy Bolton! It’s really happening! And Zac and Vanessa may be returning for cameos! Wait. Cameos? I want them to still be the stars. I don’t know how they’ll manage that since the batch already graduated in the third movie, so… Maybe they could be teachers?
Okay, are we all in this together and hoping that Zanessa is getting back together? Please do not make me explain the grammar of that last bit. Over the years since the pair had broken up, I’d often commented to my sister that I wished Zac and Vanessa would get back together. We’d be talking about something else entirely, and it would just occur to me that I really wanted that. If I were in a beauty pageant and the host asked me what I wished for, I’d say “For Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens to get back together” instead of world peace.
Incidentally, my daughter and I have been watching the HSM movies for movie night (that’s stay-in Friday nights for us). This is her first time to see them. Scratch that; she saw them when she was a toddler, but she doesn’t remember much from the time, except the “Fabulous” song from the second movie. She used to love Sharpay.
I actually associate HSM with her. The movie premiered on TV shortly before I gave birth to her. And then in the first two months of her life, I’d be up along with her in the wee hours of the morning and I’d tune in to the Disney Channel, which would always be replaying the movie.
I’d sing the HSM songs to my baby to get her to sleep and she’d resolutely keep those peepers open. I couldn’t blame her. On a good day, my singing voice sounds like tom cats yowling in a full-on alley brawl. Normally, it sounds like metal scraping against concrete barriers. Definitely not the stuff lullabies are made of.
So, Zanessa must happen once again. In my odd little mind, having them back together is like having that precious first-born baby back again.