I have been asked, “When are you going to blog about your high school reunion?” So here it is in all its glory:
Friday night was the Alumni social. When I walked in, I was like, “Am I at the right reunion? Who are these people?” But as I started recognized more and more faces, my heart calmed down and I realized I was indeed in the right place. Now, don’t get me wrong, there were many more people there I simply did not recognize and the name tags didn’t help me much either. At one point, I just went up to people and said, “Obviously, we went to school together, but I don’t remember you. How’s it going?” There were a lot of bald men roaming around—funny yet true—and most seemed to pull it off quite well. I wish they would have taken a picture, “Hey, all you baldies over here!” That would have been fun. One lady had obviously been drinking and made things interesting for all. Good times. She was funny and made me wish I had come drunk too (it would have made the night easier). *Note: I do not condone drinking and do not plan to take up that habit. But under such stressful times (yes, high school reunions are stressful), I can see why the lure of alcohol might be the way to go. Oh, and what the heck was with the 50 or so big bags of chips? Just a little curious.
Saturday was the family picnic and evening dinner social. The picnic was fine. I think under the guise of having our families and spouses with us, many of us seemed more relaxed, friendly and more open to go up to other people. I knew of the three events, this was probably my favorite. I didn’t feel so uptight and out of place. I felt like me. (Oh, and the big bags of chips seemed to fit in better at this venue).
The dinner on the other hand, I went back to being uptight and nervous. Why? Beats me. Even my husband commented to me. He said, “Angela, I have always thought of you as a confident woman, but put you back in a high school type situation, and I don’t hardly know you.” It’s true! And it’s WEIRD! High school was not a horrible time for me. I loved high school. I loved my friends (of which most I still am in contact with and consider my great friends to this day). So what the heck was wrong with me? I don’t know. I did go up to a few people and talked, but for the most part, I stuck to my little familiar group. But the funny thing is, most everyone else did the same thing too. You sat with who you were most comfortable with, and who the heck can blame anyone for that? Sure as heck not me! I like comfortable. Clicks? I guess you could call it that. I prefer to call it "comfortable."
It has been twenty years. My mind is mush. I was not good at remembering people, which was to my disadvantage. If I didn’t recognize you, then I was simply too nervous to go up to you and find out more about you. That is my fault. That is something I need to better work on. I think another thing that put me at a disadvantage, was that some of the people I would have loved to have reconnected with and seen how they were doing and the different turns life has taken for them, simply were not there. Sue Jeffrey—where were you? I missed you. Glen Remy, Matt Rose, Julie and Jeanette Sloots, the list could go on and on. These people, my comfortable people, were not there.
Now don’t get me wrong, I was overall glad that I went. There were people I was glad to see—good, wonderful people. The dinner was great. The entertainment, not so much (sorry planning committee, it’s true, but you did your best and that is all we can ask of you. I still think you did a great job under the circumstances).
Most importantly, I am glad for those people who came out of their “comfortable groups” and made the rounds in talking with people they may normally have never talked to in school—you know who you are, you sweet things. I need to learn to be better at that, and maybe next time I will be.
Maybe as I continue to age and my mind goes, I will be walking up to everyone at my 50th year reunion and hugging people and clasping hands while having a golly good ol’ time in doing it. (Because at that time, my mind will not be able to decipher who was my friend, who was not, and who actually only works at the venue and didn’t graduate with us at all).
So, Roy High School 1990 20th class year reunion—we are getting old, but we seem to be aging gracefully. See you at the next reunion--perhaps.