The Reunion

It’s always so ironic. You dread something so much (a first date, an interview) and then it turns out to be one of the best times of your life. My ten-year high school reunion was just that.

When I got out of my friend’s minivan (being driven by her husband who was, crazily enough, her PROM DATE), I immediately tensed up and worried about walking into the building chewing gum. See, I went to an all-girls Catholic high school (something that sounds atrocious on paper, but really was fantastic) and they had pretty strict rules - including the outlawing of gum. I spit it out instinctively as I entered the building, literally looking down to make sure I wasn’t actually wearing a green plaid skirt.

The first thing that struck me was that it smelled the same - a blend of chalk, industrial strength floor cleaner and perfume. The old janitor was there. I remembered him; he remembered me and gave me a kiss hello on the cheek. I instantly felt older, as there was no way he would have ever kissed me hello years ago, but now I was an adult, a grownup, and taboos were done and buried.

Next we made our way into the auditorium. It looked smaller than it did ten years ago. And, yes, true I was 30 pounds skinnier back then, but I’m not a big girl. Yet it looked tiny, teeny tiny. I instantly ran to the bar.

Not many girls from my class came - maybe about 20 total. However it was trippy as hell to see many of them as we haven’t changed much physically and most of our personalities are still the same. Especially mine, apparently. Within less than 15 minutes someone was yelling at me, “You’re still loud and crazy, Ella!” What was so odd was that it wasn’t a person I was close friends with, but rather someone I barely knew…but she had remembered me and my personality so clearly. I guess I was the loud and crazy one, the one who always pushed the envelope a bit too much, the one who was never taken very seriously.

The true highlight of the day was seeing three people in particular - Michele, Tara and Kate. They were three of my closest friends in high school and I hadn’t seen them (well, Michele once or twice) in a decade. But within just minutes of seeing one another, it all came back. All the jokes - the really off-color, I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that - jokes were back and it was as though no time had passed at all. For the first time in years, I acted like me. Loud. Funny. Perverse. However, for the first time in my LIFE, I censored myself a bit too. I guess I am growing up.

A few hours later a handful of us went to a bar in Riverdale to get drunk and reminisce. I asked my friends to tell me their engagement stories. And they were beautiful and hysterical - all at once. I rather hated the fact that I was hearing them so many years later, but still so grateful to finally hear them. Losing touch really is bullshit.

I’ve spent the last month dreading this particular day. I was worried about not being married, not having a baby and not having some career milestone to brag about. But after just a few minutes in that school, with just a small handful of people I hadn’t seen in a decade, I realized all I had to do was show up and be me. After all, while I was happy for my friends’ marriages, babies and accomplishments, the thing that mattered most was how much we still made each other laugh. The way we all understood, complemented and overjoyed each other. And, most especially, the way it seemed as though the last ten years had never passed.