Ha ha ha high school
I got an email two weeks ago, informing me that a number of people from my high school were getting together to celebrate our 20th reunion.
Once I came to, having passed out from the realization that I am older than time (e.g., I can still remember jelly shoes, shoulder pads, and pegged jeans), I laughed. I mean, really laughed.
Would I attend my high school reunion?
The fuck I would.
I went to a high school in Texas. Said high school's catchment area seemed to uniquely hold all the wealthy beautiful people who looked as though they walked straight off the set of "Dallas," complete with football Fridays and big hair (which was dyed undeniable shades of blond). They didn't stoop to real emotion and smelled faintly of dreams that they would never live up to (perhaps it was hidden by the smell of their hairspray).
They also made my life difficult. A non-native Texan who definitely lived on the wrong side of the tracks, I was the class clown, the nerd, and the weird Ally Sheedy loser all in one (eat your heart out, Brat Packers). I wore many hats, none of them the right brand. I drove a 12 year old PoS car as well, which parked in the student parking lot would occasionally be the subject of the football players joking when they came off the practice - on more than one occasion they left a beer bottle filled with piss perkily perched on the hood of my bean can. My class was also huge - when I graduated it was with about 1,000 others.
I couldn't name even a half dozen of them now. High school has largely been wiped from my memory as an endurance test - like a half marathon you can run, or the 24-hour "Sisters" TV marathon - that one just survives and then doesn't look back. I left the town, state, and country. I have no contact with any of my old classmates.
I watched Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion with something akin to deep understanding. I too would love to turn up and see some of those people who made my life hell. I would love to see them with lives that did not live up to their loftier ambitions. I'd love to swoop in and make people envious of my lifestyle, and to kick themselves for not being my friend way back when. But the truth is, I'm as much of a nobody as I ever was (and I'm ok with that), and life has taught me that people born into money, well...they typically stay in the money.
I don't need my high school reunion. I'm not going to be magnanimous here and say I wish the people in my past a good life because really, I'm not that big. But the world is a big place, they have their part, I have mine.
And unlike Romy and Michelle, I totally would have kept going with that Post-It story.