So, I found out that some of my high school classmates are planning a ten-year reunion for our class in late May. Although I never planned on going, the idea kept scratching at the back of my brain, and not in a very nice way—more like the stiff tag in your underwear that keeps poking you in the lower back. Then I had a chat with a friend—the only friend I have from our year in H.S., Friday night.
She told me she’d be upset with me if I didn’t go, despite the fact that nausea overcomes me every time I try to picture myself at a class of ’98 reunion. I didn’t even go to my H.S. graduation ceremony, simply because I couldn’t stand to be in that place for just a few more hours. Graduation wasn’t an achievement for me; it was an escape, and a narrow one.
I’m actually kind of embarrassed about my reaction. I mean, let’s face it, this was ten years ago. These people have no power over me anymore, so why should it upset me to go? Shouldn’t the emotions this is evoking make me want to go more, to overcome them, to once and for all put those demons to bed?
Here’s the conclusion I’ve finally come to, though. These people made my life a living hell. I have nothing in common with them other than the fact that we spent four years in a concrete and cinderblock building together. If I were invited to a Dog Appreciation party where all the other partygoers were skinheads, would I attend? Um, no, because I’d have one thing in common with them (dogs, duh!), and despise them for everything else. I know people change. For all I know, those teenage tormenters have become Peace Corps officers, missionaries, and general good citizens. But for me, I’m perfectly happy to just leave them to change in their own zip codes.
She told me she’d be upset with me if I didn’t go, despite the fact that nausea overcomes me every time I try to picture myself at a class of ’98 reunion. I didn’t even go to my H.S. graduation ceremony, simply because I couldn’t stand to be in that place for just a few more hours. Graduation wasn’t an achievement for me; it was an escape, and a narrow one.
I’m actually kind of embarrassed about my reaction. I mean, let’s face it, this was ten years ago. These people have no power over me anymore, so why should it upset me to go? Shouldn’t the emotions this is evoking make me want to go more, to overcome them, to once and for all put those demons to bed?
Here’s the conclusion I’ve finally come to, though. These people made my life a living hell. I have nothing in common with them other than the fact that we spent four years in a concrete and cinderblock building together. If I were invited to a Dog Appreciation party where all the other partygoers were skinheads, would I attend? Um, no, because I’d have one thing in common with them (dogs, duh!), and despise them for everything else. I know people change. For all I know, those teenage tormenters have become Peace Corps officers, missionaries, and general good citizens. But for me, I’m perfectly happy to just leave them to change in their own zip codes.
Beware the sound of crying children, watch out for the barmaids, and whatever you do, don't let the Pegasus spit on you.
Surviving Serendipity--http://www.sylvaniamania.com
Surviving Serendipity--http://www.sylvaniamania.com
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3 comments:
Ya gotta go ... first, to show up all of the once-perky cheerleaders with your perky wonderfulness.
But more importantly, it's a marketing opportunity. Let them know you're a published author. You'll find that all of the immature crap from high school was left there.
I gotta go with Norm, here. You've got some bragging - I mean promo - to do here.
Admittedly, I hated my tenth but that might've had something to do with the fact that I only had a newborn rather than a cool book to show off.
Go for it!
Regan
This is EXACTLY why I didn't attend my highschool reunion. Good thinking
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