Reunion Tangent

So, reunions. I didn't go to my 10 year high school reunion because I lived in a different city. I suppose that I could have flown in, but I didn't think it was worth it. Like most people, I thought I would never bother going to my high school's reunion, but as it got closer I loosened up to the idea and thought, eh- it might be fun. In the end, it wasn't worth the extra, unplanned trip home.

I think this situation is indicative of a certain aspect of my personality-- one that some people probably don't like. I cut my losses. A friend once said about me, responding to another person who was critcizing my tendency to "drop friends," that when my friendships change, I'm realistic about it. That is a nice way of putting it. In truth, I'm envious of those who can let more roll over their back, facebook everyone, hang out with whoever and always enjoy it.

My bottom line is this: although I respect that people are different, if there is someone whose values I really don't agree with, who I don't think is a good person (or has too many hang-ups to present herself as one), who I don't feel loves me as a friend, I am not going to waste my time. I do think it's my job as an adult to be polite to such a person. But I really won't go out of my way to nurture a friendship either.

Luckily, every member of this blog has been an amazing friend to me. And I have several more goodies too- I'm talking to you, migrainegirl. I have you chicks (and a few dudes) to thank for being such an exclusive biatch. If y'all (FYI- I'm trying to switch to 'y'all' from the gross yet culturally pervasive 'you guys') weren't so supportive and fun, I'd probably seek superficial reinforcements elsewhere. I think most of you are the same way. I'm up for a reunion with any of you ladies, any time.

Blast to the Past

The topic this week is reunions. I am the baby of our blogette team, thus, have yet to attend a reunion. However, I have thought many times what it will be like when I do attend my 10-year reunion. Will the stereotypes of reunions hold true? Will the jocks still be stuck in the same small-town we graduated from, unable to get over their high school quarterback glory days? Will the National Honor Society and choir kids end up incredibly successful? It is hard to tell.

One of the nice things about today’s technology is that it is much easier to keep in touch with old high school/college buddies then it ever was in the past. We have avenues such as Facebook, LinkedIn, Myspace, etc. It is fun to browse on other people’s Facebook pages, to look at their pictures, and try to figure out what direction their lives have taken. In some regards, this can take much of the surprise out of reunion experience.

I have always been curious to see if there was a way to find out how many people lie at their high school/college reunions. Do people rent or borrow fancy cars to drive up in? Do they exaggerate their success? I guess I have had this exaggerated image in my head about reunions ever since I almost peed my pants laughing with Romy and Michelle tried to convince their high school class that they had created Post-its. Is there going to be some unknown person from my very small high school class (I only graduated with 120 people) that will show up with some incredible invention or business. Possibly. Only time will tell.

Until then, I will continue to work at my own goals and ambitions and ensure that I don’t feel inadequate at my life accomplishments when the time comes for my reunion.

Romy and Michelle

I have an angry friend who says he wants to have a reunion so he can make everyone feel bad about themselves.

Let me explain.

I live close to the home where I grew up, and travel there on weekends.  Because its a beautiful resort town, people who went to high school there are reluctant to leave. And because its a small town, you can't go to pick up some milk without seeing someone you've known forever. Someone who knows your dog's name, who knows you were trying to get a job at the big-city news corporation last spring.  A guy from my graduating class owns the local fisherman's pub, we call it "the Fish." His band plays there Friday nights.  At the beach I know all the lifeguards; and the girls sitting in the sand are light years from high school days, now married and bringing their babies to the beach in little bonnets and little bathing suits.

We didn't have a 5-year reunion. Didn't have a 10-year one either. It just didn't feel necessary- since most of us see each other all the time anyway.  Though, the real reason we haven't had a reunion is because no one wanted to pony up and plan it, which is shameful, yet humorously reminiscent of our high school spirit. Go class of 1998.

I saw an old friend a few weeks ago- our class valedictorian. He's now at a prestigious business school, travels the world with his genius girlfriend. They are destined for prep-school parenthood.  I'm not really fazed by it.  But I'm not really fazed by much of anything that any one's been up to since graduation, including myself.  I suppose I feel like we all sort of follow the trajectory we've been on since grade school. I don't feel judgmental or surprised about how things have turned out.  

But this friend of mine- he seems to have been carrying it with him for years.  And by "it" I mean, a desperate desire to prove himself to the kids of our graduating class.  Apparently he's burned by 4 years of what he considers social underestimation and bullying-- none of which I ever remember happening to him. I think if he was really teased, or if kids ignored him-- it was subtle and I didn't notice it, and I was his friend, I think I would have known that was going on.

Anyway, that's not the point.  When I saw him last he said he wanted to have a reunion so he could point and laugh at everyone for what they've become.  Those are his exact words.  I suppose he plans to simply ridicule by comparison of his own success, make everyone jealous? Or maybe he plans to literally point and laugh.

I kept my thoughts to myself (except now):  But, no one's going to care.  If someone really wanted to go to the best business school in the country, he would have tried as hard as my friend has and made it happen, or come close enough to it.  

Also, only someone who has really made it could evoke the kind of jealousy my friend is hoping for-- who does my friend think he is, James Bond?  Is he going to rent an Aston Martin for the night?  Aren't there better things to do with one's money and energy, but to waste it on some grown-up kids who have totally different ideas of value and success than he does?

And anyway, lots of people have done outstanding things with their lives- things they consider outstanding anyway, like beginning a family or living the dream on the beach with a surfboard 365 days a year.  My friend would have to have invented the Post It, or enter the reunion by being lowered from a helicopter, or have choreographed a really cool dance to do in the middle of the cafeteria for when they play our prom song, to really impress people.

I mean, "point and laugh"?  Really?  How could anyone care that much, 10 years later.  How could anyone give people such importance, especially people who he was placed with randomly, not by choice, not filtered down and grouped by industry-- pure chance.  

Reunion S***Show

Last spring, HT and I attended our fifth college reunion. We travelled back to the idylic hillside where we'd fallen in love, not entirely certain what to expect for the weekend. I had the joy of celebrating the wedding of some dear friends this past weekend who graduated the year behind us will be heading straight back to their five-year at the end of the week. They, and a handful of other guests inquired if we'd attended last year, and I couldn't help but laugh when they asked us what to expect.

Five years out of college, reunion is a big excuse to pretend that you are still capable of drinking in the same volume you did in college. Most of us cannot. And it is an excuse for single people to try, one last time, to hook up with the other single folks who we never had the guts to approach in college. I only know of one successful attempt at such an encounter. They "dated" for a brief period thereafter; but I'm pretty sure they're no longer speaking.

The weekend was filled with brief 10-15 minute discussions with folks you hadn't seen; acting suprised/excited/impressed to learn that they'd landed a great job/gotten into their grad school of choice/or met their future spouse. There were also the supremely awkward passing encounters with folks whose names you couldn't remember for the life of you, even though our graduating class was just over 450 students. And then there were the uncomfortable embraces with folks who remembered YOU, even though you couldn't return the favor. . .

The thing that struck me the most about our five year is that the people I really cared about from college, I had already seen or talked to recently. There were at least 10-15 people I saw who I really enjoyed catching up with; but I spent the majority of the weekend with some of the same people I already make an effort to see once a year if not more often. They are the people I already call in times of need, when we're going to be back in the midwest visiting, or even just when I've got a supreme hankering for a margarita. In other words, they're the type of friends that I don't need a reunion to give me an impetus to call. They're the friends that even though you've spread across the country, you still feel close to.

And so, surrounded by the same support system that has guided me in to adult hood, we took it upon ourselves to attempt, like the others around us, to be as young and rowdy as we were in college. We stole wine from our catered dinner and passed the bottle around the back of the auditorium at the concert we were attending. We stayed up until somewhere close to dawn dancing in the same lounges that we frequented as students; and I'm pretty sure I drank from a wine-bladder removed from a box of wine owned by some random group of men who graduated in the 80's in a game known as "slap the bag." I awoke with bruises all over my arms and legs of which, to this day, I am not entirely certain of the origin. And I spent the entire drive home trying to curl up into the fetal position in the passenger seat, wretching in pain from the night before.

In other words, my five year was a certifiable S*&% Show; so I wish my friends the best of luck as they head out there this weekend. May they not need the highly durable bookstore bags as much as I did on our trip home. . .

4 Reunions and a Funeral

This past week has certainly been a week of reunions for me.


Reunion1: I had the luxury (and trust me, it is a luxury in this economy when someone flies somewhere just for the day to hang out with you) of meeting a friend in Dallas for a Rangers game. We both flew in that morning (he was supposed to get there the night before, but due to the first of several flight complications, he got there about 10 am the morning of the game). I arrived with not a minute to spare (okay, really about 15 minutes to get my bag checked for my return flight, catch a cab, and get to the game) because of some additional flight complications and some terrible weather somewhere in the country. Isn’t the issue always weather somewhere. We only missed the first inning, but had enough time before my return flight to see the whole game. And what a game it was. This may not mean a lot to those of you who don’t know a thing about baseball, but there was a walk-off HR in the bottom of the ninth that won it for the Rangers. And we got to see it all from the third row. What a fabulous day?! Not only was the game great, but I got to catch up with an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in almost five years. And the best part is, he was exactly the same. And I knew he would be. As predictable as the sun rising. Only we’d both matured and gotten to the point where we can laugh about the stupidity of the way we acted in college. I think if it was five years before we saw each other again (and I really hope it’s not!), it would feel the same way.

Reunion2: After the return flight (which was a return flight to the ‘Burg for him, but really more like a second leg after a long, long layover in Dallas for me) I got to NOLA on Thursday night where I was to spend the weekend. I had arranged to have lunch with a friend from college (we were friends freshman and sophomore years when she played soccer and we lived on the same hall, but not really after that. Don’t know why….) the next day. I found out that she was living there through the alumni magazine and sent her an email letting her know I was in town (for the last time, sad!) to see if she wanted to get lunch. She falls into that second group of friends from years past. Not the ones like Pittsburgh who haven’t changed at all since college, but one of those friends who is completely different. Husband, check. More grad degrees, check. Baby, check. Different outlook on life, check. Anyway, I remember her as being this real goof-off from college (and luckily she admitted that she wasn’t very good at school. But not that it matters now….you’ll see where I’m going). It turns out she married the boyfriend from sophomore year (and the reason she later dropped off the face of the Earth) who’s now a doctor. Which means that while she got an MBA (just killing time while he was in med school), she’s a full-time stay at home mom. Who doesn’t work. And doesn’t ever want to work. Wants to stay at home with children if only because that means she won’t have to work .Love it!! It was nice to catch up with her and sort of get the scoop on what happened after sophomore year. I had also been to her house in Houston and vacation house on Galveston Bay, so it was nice, as well, to get an update on her parents. Her gramma makes the best cakes and pies of anyone in the world. And I mean that. At no offense to either GrammaMondays. Long story short, she’s doing exactly what she wants to be doing, and I’m happy for her. It’s her plan to not have to work, to just stay at home (with the cutest, calmest 10-month old I’ve ever seen. Truly. He just gurgled and cooed for about 4 hours in the heat of NOLA while we lunched. It made me want a baby).

Reunion3: This one is short because it’s still on-going. I went to NOLA to bring my hunnie home. He’s been down there for 3 and a half years, but has a new job that he’s starting next month. So I went down there to pack, celebrate a last weekend in one of my favorite cities (I drank Abita, wore beads, ate at my favorite places, scarfed down jambalaya on my way to Harrah’s , won $20 on slots, and generally sweated myself to death). Then I had the pleasure of following a 16’ moving truck across the county in a 15-hour drive on Monday (don’t worry, we stopped at Ikea, so it wasn’t all painful). But I got my baby home. If only for the next month.

The Funeral. The Family dog passed away Friday afternoon after a long, hard-fought battle with bone cancer. The dog has been “dying” since the end of February when he was diagnosed with one to two months to live. This spring has been a really hard one for DaddyMonday, who got this dog from a puppy seven+ years ago. They’ve weathered countless storms (including HurricaneLinda, my former stepmom) and are really each other’s closest friends. Many of you would think, “it’s just a dog,” but for us Mondays, regardless of whether it is a dog or not, we get very attached, very easily. And this wasn’t just any dog. He really was something special and seemed to be very in-tune with dad. I won’t go into all the dog’s wonderful attributes, but will say that this is a huge loss to our family. So please keep DaddyMonday in your prayers.

Reunion4: Before I left for my whirlwind trip across the South last week, I dropped off GirlFairway to stay with dad and his dog. It worked out so that I saved money on the kennel (aka, sleep-away camp), she got to say goodbye to his dog (I will humanize her for these purposes…), and his dog got some company during the day when dad was at work. Turns out she was really freaked out the first several days she was there. It’s not like going to dad’s is something new for her. In her three years, we’ve probably been there 50+ times. But apparently she could tell the dog was sick. She stayed away from him and dad, retreating to the bed in the guest bedroom. But at some point last weekend, she mad a complete 360, instead choosing to be right there with his dog, laying close, but not touching him, at all times. So Sunday DaddyMonday called and asked (instead of me swinging by on our drive back) if she could stay. So she stayed until then end, being there to comfort both dad and his dog Friday when they both needed it the most. But that means I’ve been away from my dog for almost two weeks! Sunday was the reunion of all reunions. I’m just kidding. GirlFairway, for those of you who know her, is not one to show excitement. AT ALL. So I think she’s happy to be back, but she’s still a little skittish, I think, from all the stress of the last week. We’re going to have to get her some doggie therapy.