| October 16, 1999
High School Reunions
David and his pal Gary just left for their twenty-fifth high school reunion.
I posed the two of them in front of the bookcase -- the third member of their *Terrible Trio,* Graham, is out of town and won't be able to attend -- and I said, "Show me how excited you are!"
[Judge the results for
Going to the reunion was an eleventh-hour decision. The planning committee had had trouble tracking David down, so he didn't even receive the invitation until a couple of weeks ago ... and then he had to sort of mull it over for a few days, in that Very Davidlike way of his. (The fact that the event wasn't cheap was a factor. "At these prices, they'd better be feeding us REAL crab," he said.)
When he finally decided OK, he was going to attend, we made a mad dash to the Castro District of San Francisco in order to find him something appropriate to wear. The invitation said "Semi-formal" ... so we bought him a black silk shirt with red flames running up and down the sides, trimmed with silver buttons shaped like dice. He wore that with black Levi's and white running shoes. (I love a man who allows his Inner Child -- and his girlfriend -- to collaborate on his wardrobe.)
As he was dressing, he said "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? It's not too late."
The truth is that I was riding the fence on this one. Part of me wanted to come along and watch him work the room. I love watching him interact with people. He's funny, upbeat, deliciously intelligent, and gobs of fun to listen to. (He'd decided that he was going to pick out one or two people at the reunion -- preferably people he hadn't really socialized much with in h.s. -- and tell them that he'd always liked and admired them. Why? Just to throw out some positive energy. Also to confuse the hell out of 'em.) That alone might be worth the price of admission.
But spending an entire evening at a high school reunion? I dunno. My interest in attending my OWN reunion ranges somewhere between nil and none. Why would I want to go to anybody else's?
Even somebody with whom I am deeply, madly, wildly in love?
Here is what this journal entry is NOT going to devolve into:
And then I went off to find my high school yearbook.
When I received the invitation to my 10 year high school reunion, during the summer of 1986, I had just given birth for the third time in five years and I weighed over 200 lbs., thanks to a third-trimester brush with toxemia (and the nice folks at Hostess Snack Cakes). My marriage was a mess, my husband had just been fired from his job and was drinking like a fish, our house was being sold out from under us, and I felt fat, sweaty, exhausted, and disappointed by life. I didn't want any of my former classmates to see what a disgusting blob I'd become.
Sometimes David and I talk about what it might have been like if we'd met in high school. Would we have been friends? Would we have been attracted to each other?
Would I have thrown up on him at a Led Zeppelin concert?
I look at his graduation photo and I have a feeling that a lot of the qualities I love about him today -- his brain, his sense of humor, his social ease, his beautiful broad shoulders -- were already there. But I also see a sort of smirky danger in his expression. I knew guys like him in my high school -- guys who thought they knew everything -- and I generally avoided them like the plague.
All things considered, I suppose it's just as well that we didn't meet until the Baby Boomer Chat Room. I think we needed to live through all the stuff we've lived through -- the botched marriages, the doomed online romances, the alcoholism and the dysfunction and the recovery and the this and the that and the other -- to get to the place we are now.
Besides: I'm not sure I could have handled having a boyfriend with prettier HAIR than mine.
So will I go to twenty-fifth reunion, when it rolls around in a couple of years?
I don't know. It's going to depend on a number of things ... none of them, interestingly, having to do with how much I weigh or how much I earn per year. Mostly it'll have to do with where I am in my recovery, and how I'm feeling about myself and about my life at that point, and whether or not I've been able to work through the old hurts and let them go enough to enjoy myself.
And whether or not Carolyn Dopps is going to be there.
Here is where David will be writing about his reunion, as soon as he gets a free minute or eleven:
Look for it a little later .... (or never)
of last weekend, anyone?: if you haven't seen 'em yet, click here
self-important blurb #2 -- probably having something to do with the WEATHER: yep. we're still having weather, alright. how about you?
special *howdy* to: my long-suffering, overlooked, underappreciated pal mizzle ... who put the *foot* in *footnotes,* and who will ALWAYS be my friend. even when we DON'T agree.
here's where i'll ask
a *relevant* question:
amazingly profound thought of the day: "You are the most poised person I've ever met." ~ inscription in my high school yearbook ~