Good Riddance*

I went to my 10-year high school reunion this past Saturday evening. It was a really last minute decision for me, because for quite a while I was on the fence about that one. There are so many stereo-typed pressures associated with it that can feed into insecurities you don't even know you had. However, after a day of nailing siding on a house with Habitat for Humanity (and a short nap), I decided that I was going to try my best to be a decent human being (difficult) and not feed into hype. Who HASN'T seen Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion? (If you haven't at least glimpsed portions while flipping channels, you might live under a rock and I'm not sure I can be friends with you. And I invented the Post-It.) So I took a shower, threw on clothes I already owned (I think most women buy a new dress, get their hair done, full mani-pedis, in addition to the crash diet regime), closed-toe shoes (to cover the lack of fresh pediness), some make-up to soften a few of the more obvious wrinkles, and out the door we went.

OK, I wish I would have had time for a hair cut. I will admit that - I was looking some kind of scraggly in the split-ends department.

We arrived at the hotel, and you could hear the sounds of 1998 pumping from the ballroom. Don't hate me but I like 90's music. Probably better than 80's music. In a different ballroom at the same hotel, the Class of 1978 was having their 30-year reunion, so Andrew suggested we hit that party because the music might be better. Ha, Ha. Don't hate on No Doubt dude. I know he's just trying to cover his closet crush on Gwen Stefani anyways.

I think I expected there to be maybe 50 people there. I figure that for most, ten years isn't enough distance from the discomfort of teenage memories. To my surprise, I would guess there were about 120 people from our class, plus dates and spouses. Way to plan, Amy! I was actually genuinely happy to see most of the people there. Some I hadn't seen since high school, and others lost touch through college. There were a few people I didn't recognize, but this isn't a surprise considering the size of our class. I didn't recognize several people walking across the stage at our own graduation, and that was at the time, in recent memory. Andrew was a real trooper, I must admit, because I felt like I bounced around a fair amount, talking between different conversations, and he didn't complain or flinch once.

The funny thing about this age - 28 plus or minus - is the variety of places that people can be in their lives. Some are single, some are in school, some are married, some are engaged, some are divorced, some are pregnant, some have had 3 children (or more!). Regardless, the chatting seemed to be relatively smooth, with not as much awkward small-talk as I would have suspected. And thankfully, the measuring contest [insert your own euphemism here] wasn't all that prevalent. I don't really remember more than a handful of people with whom careers were discussed. And maybe I arrived too late, but I don't remember any grand entrances in Ferrari's either.

So survey says: I was happy I went. It wasn't like a trip to the dentist at all.

* a la Green Day, 1997.