- I don’t currently live in the city where I attended high school. Nor do I even live in the same state. I have only been home two times in the last year; the first trip was for Thanksgiving and the second was for my Dad’s birthday. This occasion hardly seems worth the airfare, the rental car, and the trip to Cañon City.
- When I polled our class president, vice-president, and treasurer, none of them were even involved in the planning of the event. Nor are any of the three going to the reunion. The entire reunion seemed very off the cuff (we'll get there). I received a facebook message from one of the creators of the event, asking if I wanted an invitation. When my invitation arrived, I noticed this:
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| "Your" Invited. Umm... Thanks. |
- My name was spelled wrong on the invitation… AND the invitation uses the wrong “Your/You’re."
- There is always the obvious: facebook. For that matter, every social media outlet. Oh, you run 17 miles every day? I saw that on facebook. You ate a great meal last Tuesday? I saw that on instagram. (Oh, we’re not even friends on facebook? Then we’ve clearly never even spoken to anyone within a ten mile radius of each other.)
- Activities included bowling (at the one and only bowling alley in my hometown), and a pool party. I don’t know about you, but bowling and swimming are just not activities that would draw me into a reunion. (Pretty damn surprised there wasn’t a “Drive relentlessly up and down Main Street” event on Saturday night.)
- With these kind of thrilling activities, I can only assume those in attendance will not be voting on who is “Most Changed”, “Least Distance Traveled,” or even “Cutest Couple.” But if they had, I can also tell you I would not have been awarded any of these esteemed superlatives. But if there had been any kind of voting system, I would have voted for these people as the “Cutest Family.” (I second that.)
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| My vote for cutest family. ::: Kimberly, Eric, and Ayana. ::: |
- Speaking of voting, I vaguely remember voting for things like “Class Colors” and “Class Song” and the members of the Class of 2003 being flabbergasted that we would vote for ANY colors, other than our school colors. I believe someone even put “I bleed black and gold” on their ballot. Based on that, voting in Cañon City seems a little on the foolish side. And I’m not just talking about high school voting. Ricka. Let me interject. Our class song (one of the VERY few things I remember clearly from that time) was Freefallin by Mr. Thomas Petty. A damn fine song, but consider the implications. I mean yes—most of us (me) freefell right into a pit of despair that lasted the better part of the last ten years—but did we have to fortell that inevitability with song? Well, consider this, I’m pretty sure I suggested “Free Fallin’”. What does that say about me?
- I still haven’t learned the dance from “Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion.” Now THAT is an activity that would attract my attention.
- The people in attendance once saw me dance to songs by esteemed artists, such as Nickelback, 50 Cent, The Calling, Nelly, and Ashanti. No, seriously. At school dances they played “How You Remind Me.” How was I supposed to dance to that song without looking like a buffoon? Maybe another decade and I’ll be able to look my ex-classmates in the eye.
- The people I still connect with from high school didn't all just graduate in 2003- they graduated anywhere between 2001 to 2008.
- Truth be told, I knew a decade ago I would not attend my ten year high school reunion. One of my friends and I used to kid around that the only way we would go to our reunion was if we were dating super hot guys. My dreamboat guy in 2003? Justin Timberlake. My dreamboat guy in 2013? Same. And since Mr. Timberlake and I haven’t started dating yet, I guess I’m not going to attend this year’s reunion.
- Seriously though, many people have told me that the ten-year reunion is mostly just everyone trying to impress everyone else with all of their accomplishments. And while I’ve accomplished a lot (I mentioned I no longer live in the town I grew up in, right?), I definitely don’t need or want to brag about it. (Go ahead. Brag.)
My Turn! My Turn!:
n
When I read Ricka’s
invitation (nope, I didn’t get one), I noted that the plan was for us to send
money to the planners of the events—sensible right? Except that I didn’t
actually know either of the girls (we’ll get there), and they said they would
deposit our money into their personal accounts. Um, really? Because no. Just
no. (At the very least, make a bank account
for the Class of 2003, right? It’s a good enough guise. But, I agree with
Kimberly, I’m not making a check out to your personal account. Nor am I giving
you my PIN number or my social security number.)
n
Not only am I not
familiar with either of the event planners, I learned via the FB page that one
of the two girls didn’t even graduate with our class. She also has a Mohawk,
according to her pictures. I like silly hair as much as the next person, but I
tend not to throw money at it. It’s not a wishing well, for Pete’s sake.
(I don’t remember said person in high school, but I
certainly remember her and her hair in middle school)
n
I don’t go to Cañon City on a
voluntary basis. (Unless I’m there…)
n
Although I’m sure it
would have been nice to catch up with a few people, the topic of conversation
would invariably turn to my failed marriage (to someone we all graduated with)
and my recent engagement to my MIDDLE SCHOOL BOYFRIEND. That story is adorable
pretty much everywhere except your high school reunion.
n
The aforementioned
ex-husband has wanted to go to that reunion for 10 years. I listed it in our
divorce paperwork as reason #7 for the split. After “abuse,” but ahead of
“listened to musicals non-stop (see less-than-manly).”
n
And finally, because
if I can’t win the “Biggest Waster of the Last 10 Years” award, I don’t want to
go. I’m competitive.
- Though Kimberly and I became friends in high school, our friendship has grown to be so much more. In the end, writing this post together (and all of the hilariousness that ensued) was better than any high school reunion could have been.
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| ::: Me (far left), Kimberly (next to me), and our high school friends.::: Maybe we'll see you gals in another ten years. Then again, maybe not. |
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