Let's Not Get Together

It's reunion time again. This year marks 25 years since I graduated from high school. I'm always a little iffy about reunioning, which would have come as such a shock to my 18 year old graduating self. I wailed at graduation, scanning the faces of my beloved friends, and swearing never to forget any of them.
Five years later, I went to our first reunion, and it was pretty fun, I guess. I saw people who I'd only just lost touch with, and they were pretty much the same as they'd been in high school. I got a little tipsy and went to a party at someone's house after the reunion. It was fun enough.
When the 10th year reunion came around, I didn't want to go at all. I was single and working at a job that I didn't like much (social work) and I remember thinking "I don't have a story to tell these people." I wasn't proud of my life, hadn't made anything impressive of myself, and didn't have a thing to brag about. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a derelict, and wasn't living a miserable or debauched life, I just wasn't living what I considered to be an impressive one.
At our 20th, things had changed. I was married, and pregnant, and so felt like I had an excuse for being as overweight as I was. The internet had come into play enough that I had been in touch with some of my old classmates, and had found pictures of most of the others online, so I knew that a lot of them had put on weight too, and lost hair, and started to sag, in spots. I was doing a job I loved (ministry) and had a husband I was proud to show off, so I went. I was nauseous the whole time from the pregnancy, and couldn't have a beer, either- there was a DJ who played music really loud, so we had to shout to each other. I saw some dear old friends and it was nice.
This year, 25, I'm not as overweight as I was 5 years ago, still in a wonderful job, still married to a wonderful husband, but... I just don't feel like I have much to talk about with my classmates. I don't want to go and dance or drink with them, and those whose stories I want to keep up on, I already do. I can see all their faces on Facebook anytime, and even chat with them. It suits my introverted self much better than dressing up and hollering at each other over the DJ's tunes. I'm going to skip it.

drama geeks, coat people, stoners, mathletes

Quiz time! When you were in high school, what clique were you in?
Last night we caught a little bit of Definitely Not The Opera on the radio and heard a pretty interesting story. A woman reporting from her own 20th high school reunion was exploring the myths about high school, and interviewing her former classmates. It was a great show overall, but what struck me was this bit:
She was talking about cliques (which in Canada, apparently, they pronounce like "cleeks")- she said that as she remembered herself in high school, she wasn't part of a clique. I nodded as I listened, because I don't think I was in any particular clique, either- I remember being part of a bunch of different groups- the drama crowd, the cheerleaders, the music people, the ultra-popular (just kidding about that last one).
The interesting thing was, she interviewed her classmates and found that none of them thought they had been in a clique. None of them! They all considered themselves "floaters" with friends of all kinds. Get that? ALL of them! But when she asked them to tell her what clique they remembered her being in, they all could tell her.
So, what's the reality? Are there no actual cliques in high school? Did we all just label each other and each other's groups of friends?
I think I missed some good opportunities at this last reunion, what with being pregnant and self-conscious the whole night. I wasn't as bold as I wish I'd been, to seek out the people who I should have connected with, to find out who my old friends had become. I hope at my 30th, I can get a better look at my past.

early love affairs

When I was in high school, I fell in love (didn't we all?). I loved a boy named Dan who was troubled but not getting into trouble. He was a brooding, funny, sweet, moody, deep and fun musician of a kid, and I sure learned a lot through that relationship.
Because I loved him, I wanted to learn about the things he knew about. I wanted to be part of the other things in his life that he loved- not out of jealousy, but out of a desire to share in his happiness, to learn more about why he was the Dan he was.
He loved music, was a bass guitar player, and especially loved the band AC/DC. We listened to their tapes (no CD's yet) in his car on the way to school in the morning, and at his house we watched videos of their concerts. I remember long hours sitting on the edge of his bed watching him learn to play along with their songs. Soon, I started to like AC/DC too- I even bought a tape, and listened to it on my own. Through our relationship I also discovered Stevie Ray Vaughan and lots of great classic blues stuff that I still really like today (for the record, I was always a classic rock kind of girl, which may be one reason Dan thought I was okay).
Also in high school, I went on the Search retreat that was so popular in Maine, and the same thing happened- I fell in love. It really felt the same as loving a boy- I wanted to know more, I craved that warm feeling I had felt when I grew so close to God on Search. I wanted my friends to know about him too. And I wanted to know more about the things that God cared about- out of a desire to know more about why He is the God He is.
Turns out the things that both of these early loves exposed me to, became things I love too. I am glad to have loved Dan, and I am glad to Love God and be loved back by Him.

band logic

When I was in middle school I played flute in the band. I was actually pretty good, probably could have had a "higher seat" if I had the nerve to challenge any of my friends. I can still see my music folder with the blue design across the front, which I carried home every day in my bag, along with my flute, on the pretense that I might practice.
On the inner flap of the folder was a list of helpful band/music vocabulary words, including "piano" and "forte". I remember clearly the definitions of these two, in particular. For piano, they recommended that one play so softly that one could only hear the players to their left and right. For forte, it was the opposite- play so loudly that one could no longer hear the players at their sides.
In my life I have lived piano, and I have lived forte. I didn't take to either one, really, and prefer to stay in the middle of the two- taking care of my own needs and still seeing and hearing the needs of those around me. I'm not sure what the musical term for this middle volume is, but that's the way I want to play.

You can go home again, but it's weird.

So, my high school reunion. 20 years since I cried and cried and vowed never to forget one single person in my class. I did forget some of them, I must confess. But as we stood in the back of the room, watching the Class of 1987 Senior Slide Show, the names started to really come back to me.
I was nervous, and in the parking lot said to Scott "oooooolet's not go in." But he convinced me and I was glad to see straight away that I was not the fattest person in the room. I had new spanx and they made me look even pregnant-er, so Scott and I decided to tell everyone I was farther along than I am- "oh, around 4 months... or so..."
We found a few people and exchanged where-are-you-and-what-are-you-doings, then found my dear old friend Dave. Dave looks eerily like he did in high school- even his voice is the same- and his wonderful personality hasn't changed, either. We stuck together with him and his wife for the duration. Then a happy surprise- our friend Mike showed up! Dave and Mike were the best of friends, thick as thieves, true friends like you could count on being friends forever. They were a pair through high school and beyond, until a girl came between them- a girl neither ended up with- and it was heartbreaking and traumatic for me that they split, even from far away where I was. To see them together was so satisfying for me, even if it didn't mean that the rift was healed. So many memories of them both rushed back, and it felt good, having the three of us there, together, at least for that night.
I also saw my childhood friend Laura, one of my first friends- we found each other in the sand pits in first grade, I think- and played together for a series of recesses (We weren't in each other's class, so it was providence that brought us together). Then, we would meet again and again through the elementary school years until we finally were in the same class and could begin our best-friend-ness in earnest. It was such a warm feeling, seeing her again, and remembering her from so long ago- so many images in my mind, of us having sleepovers and broken hearts and first periods and mischief.
There was some weirdness to be sure- to see everyone had gotten so much older was really a shock. My brother told me, after his 10th year reunion, that what was satisfying about the experience was that everyone seemed to have "gotten what they deserved". I wonder what some old schoolmate of mine is blogging about me right now...

T-minus 1 day

After a long week, tomorrow is a big day- we head up to celebrate my sister's birthday with my family, then on to the dreaded 20th high school reunion. The good news is, the website that's been put up for the reunion has a list of who's coming, so I can cheat and check my yearbook ahead of time and try to put faces with names. Plus, now I have advanced knowledge that my high school boyfriend will be there with "guest".
Scott, who seriously is the best person ever, took me out to Target to find me something nice to wear, plus some accouterments and necessary stuff. Then he coughed loudly and blocked me from view as I threw up in the Target parking lot, holding my hair and assuring me that no one was looking.
THEN, he drove all over town getting me a chocolate shake AND the bacon pizza I suddenly had to have.
I asked him tonight how long he'll be this patient with my ridiculousness. He is the most patient man I know. I am the luckiest girl I know. (except for all the throwing up)

'87, Seventh Heaven!!

In a month, my high school graduating class will be gathering for our 20th reunion. I'm absolutely ambivalent about the whole thing. I'd love to go and watch, say, through a one-way mirror or on closed-circuit tv from a nearby bar. But walking in there is daunting to me.
I'm proud of my life, so happy- (the other night, preparing for Bible Study, the question was "what change are you longing for in your heart?" and really, all I could come up with was, I'd like to develop the ability to eat and eat and eat and never gain weight.) My life is that good- even the one thing I have wanted, is about to happen now, so I am left with nothing to complain about, or certainly nothing to be ashamed to tell my old friends about at the reunion.
But I am several pounds heavier than I was in high school and, well, what if NOBODY ELSE GOT FAT?? I think I'd be fine if I could at least know ahead of time that most (or at least several specific people) of my peers got fat too- then I could walk in and feel okay about my current state.
Funny what havoc one's past can do to one's confidence. I wear this body every day and don't feel particularly ashamed, even among friends who knew me when I was slimmer. But to have to step back in time 20 years and let the time warp happen in an instant, well, that's intimidating!
A couple of weeks ago I woke up early thinking, "what if my happy memories of High school are all wrong?? What if I thought everyone liked me, but they really didn't?" I had to go fetch my yearbook and read the notes my peers had written in the front and back pages. Yes, they seemed to like me all right. That was a relief.
I am assured that there will probably be a couple people, out of the 200+ that I graduated with who have gained weight, and hey, maybe a chunk of them live in squalid conditions with ugly children, or have developed nasty habits, or lost most of their teeth, or gone bald, or lost their fashion sense, ordeveloped some kind of nasty wart condition, or turned funny colors in some chemical accident... that would certainly make me feel better.