Last night was my 20 year high school reunion. Sometimes it’s nice to not have a lot of readers, because I know I won’t be offending any of them when I say it pretty much sucked. I hung in there for almost three hours, but I was ready to leave within 15 minutes of arriving. I had been told by many that their 20 year reunion was a lot more fun than their 10 year, but I disagree. I spent three hours asking the same three questions of people I haven’t seen in 20 years (married? kids? what do you do?). It felt extremely artificial.
I loved high school, but I recognize now that it was because of my teachers, the sports that I did, and a small set of friends who I had a lot of fun with — most of whom are still part of my life. High school was great when I was 15. It’s not so great when I’m 38.
The one bright spot was running into an old family friend who had married someone I graduated with. We rode together a lot as kids, and it was great to catch up with her.
As I left the party with a friend who was equally as unimpressed, I expressed to him that having such a crappy time reinforced how happy I am with my life. As I was “catching up” with these people, I kept thinking of my husband, my kids, my friends and my home in Victoria. It all feels so right.