Romantic Life Lessons, Shameless Promotion

It’s Happening: My 30th High School Reunion

mulletIn three weeks, groan, I’m attending my high school reunion. Let me muster the energy to drag my fabulous self to what can only be an unnecessary trip down memory lane. I am so over that.

Lie, lie, lie! I’m not even close to being over it! This eagerness must be palpable because somehow, I wound up on the planning committee and–wait for it–amassing enough 80s music to last 3 hours. I love the build-up, the preparations–emotional and wardrobial (that’s a word)–and the blinding nostalgia. How could you not want to re-live your painful adolescence?

In the spirit of reunions, let me revisit my reunions. Each one has a flavor.

My 5th Reunion: Um, I don’t attend this one because life is too traumatizing. See chapter 4 of my book, Romance Is My Day Job. I call this flavor “gum stain on the subway platform” because it is just that icky.

The 10th: It takes me months to pick out this purple gauzy dress and chunky patent leather heels. The hair is everywhere. Classmates are marrying and having babies, like my best friend Nici. Isn’t 27 too young for this? I breathe into paper bags over the idea that I could embark on such adult rites of passage. My recollections of this reunion are vague because I am hyper-focused on an impending first date with some dude in NYC, the dude responsible for my being in NYC. An important domino in my life. Would I be in New York if it weren’t for this date? Probably not. Flavor: Tiramisu because it is the first time I try the dessert in New York.

The 15th: Ugh, 32. That’s almost as old as Jesus before he died and I have done nothing too important. IMe, Nici, Kirsten do learn that my classmates are wildly interesting, but I eat too many strawberries (not sure what this means and yet it is my lame excuse for fleeing Connecticut before the real festivities). Jesus would not have done this. Reunion flavor: Strawberry Agita.

My 20th: I’m 37! Though I could be the only single one left, I am…okay. Am I? Oh God. Why did I cut my hair short? Why!?? Despite those pesky feelings of low self-worth,Β  sleek black pants and a raincoat hide a whole lot of sh&*t. I’m grateful, at least, that I have done nothing terrible ever. Job, roof over my head, loved ones, no longer living off credit cards: not too shabby. Flavor: One scoop of vanilla because I’m blessed.

My 25th: I’m MARRIED. Look at my husband! You all know him! He’s cool! I’m not a dork anymore! Married, married, married. Oh wait, I missed all the crazy after-hours shenanigans because I’m married married married. Okay, I’m still a dork*. Flavor: Two scoops of matching flavors, whatever he wants.

My 30th: Married, married, married. This means I have another set of eyes and sharp senses to take in the entire event: my classmates, my teachers, the beautiful school itself, etc. I will enjoy this reunion and stay up all night**. Class of 1986, I’m ready. Beware of the girl who watches and records everything. She might write about it someday. Just kidding, sort of. But seriously, flavor: Whatever keeps us dancing.

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*but married

**to catch any shenanigans. The fact that I use the word “shenanigans” only proves my dorkiness.

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8 thoughts on “It’s Happening: My 30th High School Reunion”

  1. You’re adorable.

    My high school graduating class was over 700, most of whom I didn’t know even then. I was not popular. I’m still friends with one person from then. Never going to a reunion. Never.*

    *Also, not married. Many cats, though, and semi-famous author

    1. Thanks so much for your lovely remarks, Dolores! I appreciate it. I’m so glad you enjoyed the book. πŸ™‚

  2. I graduated in 1980. My first reunion was at the 20-year mark. I saw my crush there that night, and he was now the grown up version of the stone fox from my youth. We chatted for a bit and took some group pics where I was perched right next to him. Fast forward eight years, and I get a post from him on my classmates.com account telling me that my new profile pic was nice, and he wished me well. I thanked him, and this started a nice email exchange for a few months. He was in Arizona and I was in New York. A lot happened over the next couple of years. Fast forward even more to our 30-year reunion where we attended as a couple! It’s been almost seven years now, and we are still hopelessly in love. Just this morning, he asked me why we never got together in junior high or high school, and I told him I was glad we didn’t. I got the grown up version of the beautiful boy I knew then, and one of the best things I love about him is that there is still part of the beautiful boy inside him today. I’m a very fortunate gal.

    1. Wait…this is beautiful! This is the story from movies, but even better! Congratulations on such a wonderful romance! πŸ˜€

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