I am writing on 3 hours of sleep…and, for the first time in a long time, I can’t blame Alex for keeping me up with his lively 3:00 a.m. rendition of “B-I-N-G-O.” This time, I was the one belting out the classics in the wee small hours of the morning.
I did it. I partied like it was 1991.
I only made it to bedtime today with repeated pleas for “inside voices,” coffee, Advil, more coffee, a binky, naptime, and takeout. But it was worth it. I survived my 20th high school reunion!
Yeah, my 20th. I can’t believe it, either.
When I walked into the reunion, the high school version of myself was waiting for me in the form of a pin. That girl singlehandedly destroyed a portion of the ozone layer (an inconvenient truth) in a daily quest for skyscraper bangs to maintain a straight-out-of-a-Whitesnake video look. That girl spent all of her babysitting money on Aqua Net, electric blue eyeliner, Silver City Pink lipstick, $50 Champion sweatshirts to cut the necks out of, and tight black leggings. That girl chewed piece after piece after piece of gum with attitude. That girl giggled a lot because she didn’t have a care in the world.
That girl was the one they remembered. Holy sh$t.
Once I got over the horror shock that the pin picture was the mental image many classmates had of me, I had fun remembering that girl…that time in my life. I loved high school. And I loved my reunion.
It’s amazing what a 20 year buffer and alcohol can do. Everyone was genuinely happy to see each other (with one exception of a girl telling a guy off for something he didn’t even remember doing–WTF?). People who didn’t even say “hi” in the hallways were in deep conversation. The only sound that drowned out Def Leppard playing “Pour Some Sugar on Me” at our collective favorite pizza joint was laughter. It was beautiful.
SHS Class of ’91, I am grateful to you for a memorable night. There’s a part of me who will always be that girl…just with better hair. Thank you for the reminder.
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