I was scared all day while waiting for the eve of my reunion. I seriously contemplated not going because I couldn’t bear the idea of going alone into a room of former peers. I was supposed to speak at the event, but I didn’t want to, and I was afraid I might throw up. It didn’t help that it took me over an hour to find the Water Resource Center where the event was being held. Google maps gave faulty directions and Mapquest didn’t even have directions available so I had to call my Mom and back track until I finally found it. When I rolled up into the parking lot a bunch of ‘bad kids’ from back in the day were smoking and lounging around their parked car. It was like dejavu. I was so nervous I stayed inside the car until they wandered away.
Our class president, Jessica, was nursing her son when I walked by her car in the parking lot. And than Claire from my Traffic Safety class showed up and we agreed to walk into the joint together. We made a beeline for the open bar but were intersected by two guys I went to elementary school with, Matt and Joel. Matt and I had actually been artistic rivals in grade school. We both could draw and we both gained recognition from it, and even though we had very different drawing styles we competed for top art awards, best artist titles, and to be chosen to represent our grade level in the main hallway. It really thrilled me that Matt has become a graphic artist.
I met up with my long time crush, Ryan, who also went to the same elementary school as I did. In fact he made quite a splash that night, pregnant wife at his side, all of us oohing and ahhing over him. Still really nice, still good looking, very humble, I’m sure it got tiring having all of us throw ourselves at him throughout the night.
I realized that many of the girls in attendance had spent the entire ten years being a parent. I asked Hilary why she looked so damn good after having three kids. She said, “Well, I had twins so technically I only had two pregnancies.” Good point. Some people looked exactly the same, as if they had been preserved in amber like a mosquito. It was actually a little shocking. Most of us looked older, wiser, holding down good jobs. I found out that my senior homecoming date, Andy, the cute guy we all passed around for dances decided NOT to come at the last minute. Jeff told me he wanted to see me, specifically, but opted out. I was flattered.
The place was so loud and so drunken by the time Jessica and I tried to speak, we almost didn’t bother. I had about half the crowd’s attention and I skimmed through my speech quickly, touching on funny points, and occasionally improvising. It was pretty terrible. I even had a guy, Brad, come up and yell at people to be quiet and listen to me. But, you know, whatever, it was cool. I had people come up afterward and say they enjoyed what I had to say.


Old drama friends, Genevieve, Kay, and Damion.


Lippman (who looks exactly the same), Jeff (who doesn’t look the same), and someone’s random wife. I was impressed that Jeff has five daughters, including one who is age twelve.


Darby, who reminded me that we were once in a Missoula Children’s Theater production of “Beauty Lou And The Country Beast” together.


Out and Proud.

I was actually surprised that there were fewer gay attendees, although as one old friend, Sandy, said, “In ten years you’ll all be divorced and out.” He might be right, but many of my class was not there. Physically speaking, the women fared better than the men for the most part. Many of us looked pretty good in our designer jeans and black tops. The guys haven’t aged quite as well, and many of them openly admitted it. Although, I’m sure that the most confident, the best dressed, and the secure showed up to this event. There was only about a quarter of the class in attendance. It takes a lot of courage to walk into a room filled with people who knew you at your most awkward.
Several women looked as if they were going to pop they were so pregnant. One of them was two days passed her due date. I was impressed by how many couples there were who met in high school and have remained married. Does that really work? I thought statistically you had the cards stacked against you if you wed a high school romance but apparently my class is the exception.
Jessica did a great job covering the room with pictures, pinning up posters and old class photos, and passing around an enormous cardboard eagle for us to pose next to and have our picture taken. The open bar may have been a little problematic, although it did prove to me that some of the really, truly, big assholes in my class were still the big dicks they were in high school. I’m assuming some of this might go away when old age, responsibility, or alcohol related disease sets in. Hence, our twenty year reunion should be mighty interesting.