This may be a long ramble. I can’t guarantee it’ll make a lot of sense. I can guarantee I will sound like a whining baby at least once. You’ve been warned.
I think I mentioned a few posts back that I wasn’t very well liked in high school. There was the in-crowd, A-list, whatever you want to call them. Then there were your various stereotypical groups; the jocks, the stoners, the cowboys and the band geeks (who weren’t really geeks and a lot of them were both cute and popular); then there were the kids who didn’t belong to any group and were sort of just there, then there was me, the girl almost everyone looked down on and made fun of. And I’m not just feeling sorry for myself, its the truth. I had friends, but none of them were in my class.
My 10 year reunion is on Saturday. I hadn’t planned to go. It was expensive and being held somewhere I thought was inappropriate, so I was fine with not going. Apparently I was not the only one who thought the venue was a bad idea… the latest flyer I got in the mail said “For those of you who were less than thrilled with the original location and casual tone for the Class of 1994’s reunion, we have decided to make a change!” Wow, looks like she didn’t get any less perky in the last 10 years… (shut up, it’s my blog and I can be bitter and sarcastic if I want)
About three years ago, I was working for a nonprofit and was loving my job and making really good money. My office was across the street from a Safeway store, so that was the convenient place to do my grocery shopping. Two girls I went to high school with (Becca and Becky) worked there. One night I had worked late and was doing my shopping about 10 PM, and Becca was in one of the aisles, stocking. We talked a bit, and somehow the subject of the reunion came up, and she was saying she didn’t think she’d go. I said I wanted to go so that I could show everyone that they hadn’t broken me, that I had a good life and that I was reasonably happy. But then a bit more recently it dawned on me that that wasn’t the most mature approach to it, and if that was the only reason I was going I should probably just not go.
So anyway, my mom found out I wasn’t going, and said she thought I should. Not pressuring me or anything, just saying she thought I should. She’s always seeing people I went to school with around town, and tells me they actually come up to her and ask if she’s “Judy’s mom” and tell her to say “hi” to me, so part of me thinks going would be worth it. I’ve gone back and forth on it, but the bottom line is, if I don’t go, I’ll always wonder. So, I’m going (this statement subject to change before 7pm Saturday) and I’m a total basket case over it. I’m trying desperately to find a new outfit before I go, something flattering. Which is really hard to do. Ugh. Just shoot me now.
And send Vodka.