I can't believe it but I'm going home for a 40th high school reunion. It sounds so old it's frightening. I had been looking forward to it for a while. Many of my friends wanted to go and, as I planned to go home anyway, I thought it would be great. As the date grows ever near, however, many of my friends are changing their minds. Now I find myself going with my one girlfriend from elementary school, who is also flying to the left coast from the right. We're spending $110 for the event, $140 for the room (I know, cheap for a Marriot...but STILL) and who knows what for a flattering dress and foundation garment that will suck in all the places that need to be girdled. That's alot of places.
My husband is encouraging. "Go!" he says. "You always have a good time."
I hope so. It hardly seems worth it. I mean, the people I thought I'd be hanging out with aren't going, except for a handful. And the memory of the last one I attended, the 25th, is that I had to squint at every name tag to figure out who the hell I was talking to. It seemed rude but also embarrasssing.
Well, I will notate my trip and it should be memorable. I have 10 days of visitng friends and family in California before the fated affair. We shall see.
One thing I should note, now that only a few of my closest friends are going, I no longer feel that terrible need to wear a dynamite dress, create an un-wiltable hair style, and wear makeup that won't melt. I am wearing false eyelashes. Love 'em and they are back in vogue. Other than that, eh!
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