Reunited and It Feels So Good

This weekend was my 30^th HighSchool reunion. 30^th. Thirtieth. Yeah, thirtieth. It doesn’t seem plausible. All that happened 30 years ago? Other than the kink in my neck, the blown eardrum from jumping off of a rock into the river, the hip replacement, the left knee pain and the lines on my face, I just don’t see the signs that I’m actually that old. Well, okay, now that I read that out loud, I guess there are a few things.

I’ve crammed a lot into the last 30 years. World Cup ski racer, River guide, waitress, EMT, ER Nurse, cancer survivor, wife and mother…High School seems far away and yet so close. When I think of High School, I think of the last great moments that transitioned me into my life. These moments are the beginnings of what shaped me as a person and launched me into oblivion. I buried these memories. I tucked them away thinking that I was finished with them and that they had served their purpose, but just as I think of Baja and surfing every time I smell fish tacos at Rubio’s, visiting my home town and running into my classmates reminds me of my teenage angst and all that goes with it. Yep, I’m acting like a ditzy schoolgirl. Really? I thought I had evolved. I was excited to present my newly evolved self to my fellow classmates. Hey! Look at me! I actually accomplished staying out of prison, rehab, 5 marriages, and moved to a new state! Yeah, great, except I was still acting like a dorky freshmen around all the people who graduated two years ahead of me. How does THAT happen?

I was a jock in high school, so naturally at the reunion picnic, I’m thinking that I can dive for a volleyball in a 2 v2 sand volleyball game with my former teammates. So what if 30 years has gone by? It all came back. My serve, my pass, and my dive which bought me a face full of sand and the recognition that those muscles are genuinely pissed off that I woke them up from their 30 year sleep. Then there are all my classmates who went out and got educations, jobs, significant others and families, that have not changed in personality, and predictable tendencies. They all act the same, sound the same, look the same (plus or minus a few pounds, a few new age spots and missing  a whole lotta hair), and reassume their role in your social circle as if time never passed. Jocks gravitate to jocks, nerds gravitate to nerds and girls giggle and cackle like they did way back when. EXCEPT, we now have filters and we go a whole lot slower. AND we have partners who are looking at us like we just got off the mothership from an unknown planet. Who ARE you?

In my case, I never really had a filter so my husband is used to my inappropriate behavior and my classmates sort of expect it which makes for a great match of expectations on all fronts. However, there were a few people who surprised me, a few people I was grateful have not changed a bit, a few people lost to tragedy, illness, or distance, and a select few that I didn’t realize I had buried. There were also a few that went straight from zero to hero, bubbling up to the top of the evolutionary chain for whatever reason. Those are my favorites. Everyone has a few extra miles on their external frame. There are one or two who walk in and everyone starts whispering, “who the hell is that?” After five minutes, that person opens their mouth or performs some unique distinguishing characteristic that makes the whole crowd sigh in collective relief, “ooooh, he’s THAT guy.” (no way!).

Reunion etiquette is funny. First, there’s the absolutely demand for name badges with the names everyone had in high school. Many of the women are married so they go by their married names in their contact info and no matter how many times you scour your yearbook, you can’t figure out who the hell Meggan Clayton is. Then there’s the postural gesturing that takes place as you position yourself in such a way that you read said name badge before you make eye contact. 3 guys walked into our reunion and I recognized two of them right away with big hugs and smiles, hoping that the identity of the third guy would come to me before it was his turn. Nope. I had nothing. There was an awkward pause of wondering whether or not to hug third guy because I wasn’t sure if he graduated with me or if the two guys ahead of him brought him along to troll for high school ex-girlfriends and free drinks. I figured out a moment too late that he was one of the hottest guys in school who just so happened to be quarterback of our State Championship-winning football team. Luckily he knew before I did that he’s a touch lighter on top, ignored the awkward pause, and didn’t notice me staring at his rock hard physique with a few extra road miles. My husband missed that too thankfully.

Significant others have THE worst job at these functions. You bring them along to show them off or to doll up the awkward expression of your adult self, and they have to endure your giddy stupidity and ditzy, high-school persona. They also have to suffer the same story told by everyone else of who you were in high school despite the fact that you’ve been married 20-25 years and they know you better than anyone ever did in high school. Despite this fact, as the night rolls on, you get the occasional zingers. One spouse was making a joke about why they married my fellow classmate, and in an admirable attempt to boost my classmate’s street cred, proclaimed that he was “good in bed.” What’s funny, is I had actually slept with my classmate when we were 18 and knew this to be fact. She was spot on, and it was good to know that things hadn’t changed (for his sake), but I resisted the urge to blurt “He was even better when he was 18!” That could have gone REALLY bad, or not, depending on my presentation, but I didn’t want to risk it. The look of fear and wide-eyed pleading on his face was hilariously funny. We were not far enough into the evening for me to make jokes about previous carnal knowledge about anyone. No one wants to hear how their spouse knocked the back out of it on graduation night with the person standing in front of them, so instead, I took the high road and I acted shocked and surprised. (insert giggle and courtesy laugh here). I found out how incredibly cool she was later (and throughout the event) when she said she knew the attire was somewhat dressy, but she went with jeans and a nice top because after all, “It wasn’t HER reunion.” Unfortunately, she rocked those jeans like a superstar and unknowingly and unwittingly, made the rest of us look like we were trying too hard. Still I walked away feeling proud of myself that I had not inspired the marital discussion that begins with “how many girls did you actually sleep with in high school?” or have to endure the answer, “Oh, that girl? She slept with everybody.”

Actually, I was a serial monogamist. It kept me out of trouble most of the time and makes it far easier to go to these events. You will have to take my word on this one because we didn’t have the internet back then, and we are all grateful that we are unable to google our high school sexual exploits. Good luck with THAT one millennials.

Why is it that the nicest guy in high school gets stuck with tragedy, trial and tribulation, the nerdiest girl lands the hot, rich husband, and the guys on the football team all have Ph.D’s? That slutty cheerleader is now a mother of 5 having to explain why everyone keeps buying her drinks and the girl who starved herself for 3 months in preparation for this event is now hoarking down all the cheese-filled appetizers.

Reunions are awesome because you are thrust into a room with everyone who knew you at your teenage best and look beyond the wrinkles and the bad hair to the teenage person you once were. I adore these people then and now and despite my husband having a little more fodder to chide me with, I am grateful to the many who bit their tongue and talked me up like I was a rockstar. I wasn’t, but as we evolve into older human beings, the people we started the journey with, still have a better perspective on our progress.  They met you when you were awkward and reconciling your transition to adulthood and they celebrate your success. They are also the first to commissurate about the aches and pains associated with achieving one too many birthdays. They love your kids like they were their own and they welcome your spouse into the inner circle, especially when they realize he’s got you nailed more than anyone there, that he takes better care of you than they ever could or would and is willing to hold your hair back because you downed too many shots and drinks due to your own reunion angst. Meanwhile, your unmarried former classmates are waking up naked in a hot tub with another of your divorced classmates and wondering, “holy shit, how are we going to explain this one to everybody?” It’s just more fuel for the 40th reunion fire and the fortunate occurrence that makes us ready to disperse and return to our post High School  lives. Talks are already underway to crash next year’s 30^th group and the 40^th is planned for some exotic location where we can all get a tan and a mai tai. I never want to lose touch with these people. I just hope I live to see the next one.