OK…allow me, for one moment, to feel OLD. My high school 10 year reunion is in two weeks, and I just found out about it. In a vicious ironic twist, Brian and I have already planned to be in VA that weekend to visit his family and celebrate a few birthdays (October is a huge birthday month for us).
So I’m faced with the actual *real* option of attending. Well, I can’t waste the whole weekend checking to see which cheerleaders have pudged up and which partying football players are still drunk and cheating on their then-girlfriends/now-wives. But I do have the option of peeking in on the homecoming game Friday night…and I have the morbid urge to slink in, wearing dark sunglasses, and surreptitiously check things out.
I have one (count ‘em, ONE) friend from that HS that I am in touch with. It will be worth it to just see her (she’s in Miami now). But part of me is terrified to face the people who, 10 years ago, pretty much could have cared less about a nerdy non-person. (This is evidenced by the fact that I found out about the reunion by accident, not because someone thought to invite me.) Like, no one will remember me, seriously. So I wouldn’t even need the sunglasses.
Now, granted: I only attended this school for one year, the senior one. And the school graduated upwards of 360 people that year. And the friends I did have were not really the upper echelon-y friends…the people who are now planning the event (and charging $90 a person). The people I hung out with simply could not afford such extravagant superfluity.
Plus, some of the people to whom I would be memorable, I don’t want to, uh…remember. Nor would I want to, uh…introduce them to my husband.
That aside, I’d like to post here a few shout outs…
Joshua…I love you little baby, but damn, do you have to cry EVERY TIME I get up to leave the room??
Hannah…Today you showed me “the snake,” a move you learned in jazz class. Honey, you are a white girl. Whitey white. And yes, we can’t afford it but you can take A THIRD dance class. I’ll simply give up that nasty and expensive habit I have…grocery shopping.
Jackson…Cleaning your room is not the same as shoving the piles of clean clothes from the top of your dresser into the hamper, nor does it involve throwing your matchbox cars into the hallway.
HB…Remember the first bathroom we remodeled? We worked into the wee hours of the morning, hurrying to finish the floor so we could replace the toilet (the only one in the house) before we went to bed. Tonight, as you lay the floor in the ONE bathroom in this house, I wait patiently for you to replace the toilet, and the stabbing pain in my bladder complements the pricking nostalgia in my heart.