So the storied twenty-one year high school reunion has come and gone.  And I have to say, I had way more fun than I imagined I would.  It was a bit of a blur—there are dozens of people I’d have liked to spend more time talking to, but barely got past “omigod! hi!” with.  But a few highlights:

– On a rough estimate, I’d say that 50% of my class looks really extremely good for our collective advancement in age.  Perhaps 20% looked way older than we actually are.  I’m not sure if those numbers are representative or not.

– Another rough estimate:  I think about 80% of my class has kids.  Maybe more.  I’m just now at the point in my life where I don’t find the fact of my friends getting pregnant somewhat scandalous, so I’m a bit surprised by the number of them who have apparently done so.  In the end, I think this reveals much more about me than about anyone else.

– My class produced what seems to me an inordinate number of lawyers.  I have no idea what that’s all about.  To my knowledge, there are only four academics, of whom three showed up.

– My boyfriend from my senior year in high school is now a plastic surgeon.  And the class heartthrob—blond, blue-eyed, athletic, perfect teeth, just generally drop-dead gorgeous—is an OB-GYN.  I don’t know what to make of that at all.

– My brain is apparently only capable of holding so much information.  And I’m curious how it selects what it’s going to hold onto.  For instance, I spot a woman across a crowded hallway, a woman who wasn’t in my high-school circle of friends, at all, and my brain immediately kicks up her first and last name.  But another woman, whom I’d had several classes with, and who I think may well have lived on my hall during my first year of college, has to introduce herself to me.  (And my ever-so-slick response is an exclaimed “I remember you!” To which she says, “gee, thanks.” Yeesh.)

– Maybe it’s just me.  But on the off chance it’s not:  you know that person to whom you’ve owed an apology for 21 years?  I got a chance to make that apology.  I may or may not tell the story another time.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, 21 June 2005 at 7.35 pm and is filed under life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.