HS Reunion, part I
Friday night: mixer. The word "surreal" was used a lot.
At least I wasn't bored. It took me awhile to get the hang of identifying people just from the face, when the body and hair have changed. The men in particular were difficult for me, because a large-ish number of them had lost some or all of their hair. This hadn't even occured to me, simply because for some oddball reason, most of the men I know still have their hair.
One boy I remember from elementary school had shaved his head. Nobody recognized him. He was having great fun running around the mixer clapping his hand over his nametag and making people guess before finally taking pity on them.
About half the people who showed last night had very definitely grown up, in a way that has nothing to do with real jobs or marriages or children. About a third . . . really hadn't. Fortunately, mostly I could either hear them coming or spot them standing in their sullen little groups and avoid both types. The remainder, I wasn't sure about.
Nobody was nasty. There was a lot of awkwardness, and a lot of "catch me up on ten years in two minutes." I was surprised to realize that so many people remembered me as a writer, above and beyond anything else. Telling them I'd become a computer geek was . . . something else. The writing's been so up and down. Currently, I'm in one of those phases where I'm disgusted with the whole process, but it'll pass.
A lot of just what you'd expect: People in jobs you'd never have guessed, marriages that ended in divorce, dropping out of college and going back later. But there were a number of people--mostly ones I'd hung around with in high school, funny thing about that--who were first marriage, fairly recent, no children or children just recently. Some of us waited and are now very happy that we did.
I think we got all the "what are you doing, where do you live, what's the last ten years been like" out of the way last night. Kendra and I left after about two and a half hours--some people had already gone, and she was in heels she's not used to. I'm curious what will happen tonight. Maybe it's time to tell all those high school stories that were fairly entertaining but I couldn't tell anyone at the time: Speech & Debate trips, the Tuna Boat and the fire engine, Matt Johnson realizing I wasn't the good little girl I came off as, cutting pep assemblies to hide in the Yearbook classroom.
Kendra determined, after the first night, that she needs to wear something killer tonight. I'm in agreement. Mind you, I approve of killer outfits in general, but beyond that . . . I'm no longer worried about being overdressed. If I am, fuck it. Last night was sundresses and shirts and shorts all in ghastly Hawaiian prints. Tonight is the night to leave a lasting impression.
And I want to be the gracious, witty, redheaded knock-out.
At least I wasn't bored. It took me awhile to get the hang of identifying people just from the face, when the body and hair have changed. The men in particular were difficult for me, because a large-ish number of them had lost some or all of their hair. This hadn't even occured to me, simply because for some oddball reason, most of the men I know still have their hair.
One boy I remember from elementary school had shaved his head. Nobody recognized him. He was having great fun running around the mixer clapping his hand over his nametag and making people guess before finally taking pity on them.
About half the people who showed last night had very definitely grown up, in a way that has nothing to do with real jobs or marriages or children. About a third . . . really hadn't. Fortunately, mostly I could either hear them coming or spot them standing in their sullen little groups and avoid both types. The remainder, I wasn't sure about.
Nobody was nasty. There was a lot of awkwardness, and a lot of "catch me up on ten years in two minutes." I was surprised to realize that so many people remembered me as a writer, above and beyond anything else. Telling them I'd become a computer geek was . . . something else. The writing's been so up and down. Currently, I'm in one of those phases where I'm disgusted with the whole process, but it'll pass.
A lot of just what you'd expect: People in jobs you'd never have guessed, marriages that ended in divorce, dropping out of college and going back later. But there were a number of people--mostly ones I'd hung around with in high school, funny thing about that--who were first marriage, fairly recent, no children or children just recently. Some of us waited and are now very happy that we did.
I think we got all the "what are you doing, where do you live, what's the last ten years been like" out of the way last night. Kendra and I left after about two and a half hours--some people had already gone, and she was in heels she's not used to. I'm curious what will happen tonight. Maybe it's time to tell all those high school stories that were fairly entertaining but I couldn't tell anyone at the time: Speech & Debate trips, the Tuna Boat and the fire engine, Matt Johnson realizing I wasn't the good little girl I came off as, cutting pep assemblies to hide in the Yearbook classroom.
Kendra determined, after the first night, that she needs to wear something killer tonight. I'm in agreement. Mind you, I approve of killer outfits in general, but beyond that . . . I'm no longer worried about being overdressed. If I am, fuck it. Last night was sundresses and shirts and shorts all in ghastly Hawaiian prints. Tonight is the night to leave a lasting impression.
And I want to be the gracious, witty, redheaded knock-out.
posted by Journey | 1:30 PM
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