But really, it was great. Everybody talked to everybody. Some highlights:
- The drunken wife of one of my classmates regaled BFF and I with tales of her infertility woes. I couldn’t even look at BFF, who is Very Childless By Choice. A note to the dear woman in question: sweetheart, know your audience. I don’t know you, and I don’t know what a progesterone implant is. And that’s ok. I’m glad you have a beautiful daughter now, and let’s just leave it at that.
- A boy I’ve known since we were 4 years old told me all about his first DUI. Evidently, our hometown jail closes at noon on Saturday, so if you get picked up Friday night, you better make bail pronto or you’re stuck til Monday morning. Good to know.
- I talked college choices with one of our class jocks. His stepdaughter is a senior in high school and is looking at one of my alma maters. I believe this makes us old.
- My sweet, inebriated friend John talked about how proud and humbled he was to have grown up with such amazing people. “I look at you all now and you are nice, good people,” he said. “I was so privileged to grow up with you. I’m so proud of you all.”
Me, too, my friend. My thoughts exactly.
- BFF and I talked about how there’s no place we would have rather grown up than our hometown. That was bittersweet, as we had this conversation at a high school football game, 10 days before she moves to Africa for two years, courtesy of the U.S. government. More on that later, but suffice to say that there were lots of teary goodbyes this weekend along with the joyful reunions.
And the best part?
My Raquel Welch wig-esque hair looks just fine. My mom took my picture as I headed out to the reunion, just like the first day of school. I wore a pair of her jeans, as yes, my mom is way cooler than I am. Then, my sweet daddy looked at me and said, “I really like your hair. You look so pretty.”
It makes me think of the ninth-grade dance where I didn’t have a date. My dad bought me a corsage.
I couldn’t ask for more.