On Reunions...

Last night was my fifteen year reunion. At the time that it started, I was in about fifteen feet of pond water, blissfully figuring out how to swim.

Hurling my soggy body onto the dock, I headed off to remove the fish smell and disperse kids so that I could go pretend to be a grown up.

I flatironed my hair. It looks all smexy with the streaks of color when it is straight rather than my natural curling (Heather calls it gypsy hair but I think of it as) mess of hair. I put on makeup for the first time in months. I even stuck earrings in. There. All grown up looking.

(Note: Writers write. That means most of my spare time, when not playing with my kiddos, is spent hiding behind a keyboard. No one can see your hair sticking on end or cares if you are wearing make up when they can't see you. Hence my abhoration of makeup and hair style... other than the purply hot pink. I figure weird hair is a bit of a warning to those who don't know me. So far, it keeps the really normal people away. )

So off we went. I promised my best friend a nice dinner if she went with me. I lied. The food kind of sucked. And the wine had a funky aftertaste. Which was surprising at a winery. I suppose you were supposed to drink enough of it that it sloshed around with the food, altogether giving you a happy feeling... I only had one glass.

Anyway... we were and offing. And the biggest storm that we have seen in about a month hit. Deluge rain. I watched a thingy on the light post explode. (That was cool, btw. Like fireworks but smaller) And we had good parking karma and got really close to the door.

Note I said really close. There still was a little jog required to get to dry land. Off I sprinted! Off came my flip flop. Then I stood, in the rain, and fumbled around with my foot in the puddle trying to find said shoe.

Needless to say, that whole flat iron business was wasted. With soggy mop spiraling into uncontrolled and messy abandon, I found the gazebo in which my reunion was being held.

And immediately felt fantastic about how I looked. Holy crap on toast, everyone had gotten old. I didn't even recognize them.

And then my friend Ryan pointed out that they weren't members of our class at all. Turns out that Class of 76ers had taken shelter in our gazebo from the storm. Okay. I still look old.

But the thing was that it was fun. I saw a few people that I had not seen in a few months. I laughed. I caught up on some gossip and filled in my best friend (who was nice enough to come even though the food was terrible) and got to people watch.

I think in the past that I have put too much stress on myself about reunions in general. It really doesn't matter if I got fat or made different choices than my old high school friends and enemies. What matters is that I am happy. They seem happy. We were united by school which was terrible for all of us in its own way and we survived and went on and look at us now! We have lives and families and are reaching for our goals.

Go Class of 96! It was great seeing you and keep on taking over the world, one person at a time.

Also... I have no clue how I made it this long without realizing the strip was amusing. I also have no clue how I didn't plunk Janie down there at some point or another. Cute little touristy thing... I will go back :)