High School Reunion

Last week, I recieved an invitation to my 10 year high school reunion. Actually, my aunt had forwarded it to me in an email, but it was intended for my cousin, who graduated the same year I did. I started to laugh, thinking about how I never recieved my own invitation. I got a sly little smile on my face, thinking about how whomever is planning this little reunion probably either doesn't remember me, or has no idea where I am or how to find me. Just the way I wanted it.

By the time I finished high school, my mind was set on getting the fuck away from that town and those people. I started hanging out with my own little group of misfits, all younger or older than I, and basically shunned my graduating class, with a few exceptions. I was a popular kid, right from the get go. I was different than everyone else, but everyone liked me, and school was actually pretty fun for me. I knew everyone, I was in every extra-curricular activity I could fit into my schedule, and although I didn't go to class very often, I still graduated in the end. So, I don't really know where my contempt for my classmates came from. One day though, I just woke up, and decided I didn't want anything to do with any of them. I wanted bigger and better things. I wanted to travel, start my life and have adventures and misadventures. I am sure they did too, but I didn't care what they wanted. I was afraid of getting stuck there, being some drunken farmer/hockey players wife, and working at the diner for the rest of my life.

I don't think anyone really expected much from me. Teachers thought I was a problem, and were worried about the road to nowhere I was on. My former friends just didn't get me anymore, and although we were still polite to each other, and whatnot, there really wasn't any bond. It wasn't until Graduation Day though, that it really hit me that I didn't have anyone in my class that I even knew anymore. It was a bit sad, but by the end of the big party the next morning, I was content with my decision to cut them right out of my life. I can't remember why.

When I finally did leave town, there were only a few people I considered friends left there. Now, I have lost contact with almost every single person I grew up with. Sure, we can shoot the shit, and make small talk when we're back home for holidays and run into each other at various town functions, and it's all good. But the thought of spending a day golfing and a night eating steak with these people does not appeal to me in the least. I don't care what you're doing, or how much money you make, or how many kids you have. If I did, I would have kept in contact with you in the first place. I don't want the pressure of having to make myself sound uber-fantastic, when I show up there alone, 75 pounds heavier, without any of those regular old milestones under my belt.

So, I'm not going. I doubt anyone will notice, and that's fine with me. I've got better things to do that weekend anyways. The Folk Fest is going on, and I've got a booth to run, and live music to watch. My first love is getting married that weekend as well, and a road trip to ToonTown very well may be in order, and I will see all the old friends I actually give a shit about at the wedding.

Sorry, old high school chums. Enjoy your golf and your steak and your phony small talk, but I've got a life to live, and in it is no time to relive my teenage years.