reflections on the reunion, which I did not attend
This weekend the Barstow High School Class of '96 held its 10 year reunion. Living, as I do, in Michigan, and working, as I do, lots of hours for very little money, I was not able to attend. I understand Chrissy Snyder came all the way from Alabama, and Jesse Vargas all the way from Southern Illinois, so I really had no excuse not to go. I nevertheless made sure to butt in at least virtually, calling up folks and saying hello during the festivities.
Thanks to MySpace, I've been in touch with some of the folks from our class lately. Is it odd that, 10 years after the fact, I suddenly yearn to reconnect with the people and places I fled so readily back when I was only seventeen? In the spring, when I was living in Victorville, I looked forward to the reunion. There's a sort of thrill that comes with being reminded of things that I'd long forgotten, things that once seemed so important. Living in Victorville, I would get these reminders every so often-- like when former teachers of mine came into the bookstore where I was working, or driving around Barstow and realizing I still knew the way from one locale to another, though I may have forgotten the names of certain streets.
I miss Del Taco.
But the real reason people have reunions, I think, and the reason I'm sorry I didn't go to mine, has to do with taking stock and personal inventory and all that. What better way to do a side-by-side comparison of who you were ten years ago versus who you are now than by immersing yourself in a crowd of folks you haven't seen, spoken to, or heard from since you were ten years younger? Would they tell me I haven't changed a bit? Would they be surprised at how much I've changed? Would we all be simultaneously surprised at how much and how little we've changed? Are any of the people from our class grown up yet? I certainly am not.
Since I didn't get a chance to use it this weekend, here's the standard response I would have given to any inquiry as to what I've been up to the past ten years:
I moved to Washington state, started college at Gonzaga, messed around in Spokane for a few years before dropping out of school and moving back in with my parents in Victorville. I worked at Hot Dog on a Stick at the mall, and then as a janitor at Mountain High. Then I moved to Davis, finished college, started grad school; my Dad died, I left grad school (but not without my master's), moved back in with my Mom, worked at Barnes and Noble at the mall, then moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to live with my boyfriend who's going to school here-- and working at a Barnes and Noble which is not in a mall. Ah, the grand trajectory of my adult life-- I no longer work in a mall. Oh, and that I was on Jeopardy in April of this year. I definitely would have played up that little tidbit.
I'm hoping to add to that list of accomplishments, "wrote a novel." I'm not entirely sure why I haven't yet.
Thanks to MySpace, I've been in touch with some of the folks from our class lately. Is it odd that, 10 years after the fact, I suddenly yearn to reconnect with the people and places I fled so readily back when I was only seventeen? In the spring, when I was living in Victorville, I looked forward to the reunion. There's a sort of thrill that comes with being reminded of things that I'd long forgotten, things that once seemed so important. Living in Victorville, I would get these reminders every so often-- like when former teachers of mine came into the bookstore where I was working, or driving around Barstow and realizing I still knew the way from one locale to another, though I may have forgotten the names of certain streets.
I miss Del Taco.
But the real reason people have reunions, I think, and the reason I'm sorry I didn't go to mine, has to do with taking stock and personal inventory and all that. What better way to do a side-by-side comparison of who you were ten years ago versus who you are now than by immersing yourself in a crowd of folks you haven't seen, spoken to, or heard from since you were ten years younger? Would they tell me I haven't changed a bit? Would they be surprised at how much I've changed? Would we all be simultaneously surprised at how much and how little we've changed? Are any of the people from our class grown up yet? I certainly am not.
Since I didn't get a chance to use it this weekend, here's the standard response I would have given to any inquiry as to what I've been up to the past ten years:
I moved to Washington state, started college at Gonzaga, messed around in Spokane for a few years before dropping out of school and moving back in with my parents in Victorville. I worked at Hot Dog on a Stick at the mall, and then as a janitor at Mountain High. Then I moved to Davis, finished college, started grad school; my Dad died, I left grad school (but not without my master's), moved back in with my Mom, worked at Barnes and Noble at the mall, then moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to live with my boyfriend who's going to school here-- and working at a Barnes and Noble which is not in a mall. Ah, the grand trajectory of my adult life-- I no longer work in a mall. Oh, and that I was on Jeopardy in April of this year. I definitely would have played up that little tidbit.
I'm hoping to add to that list of accomplishments, "wrote a novel." I'm not entirely sure why I haven't yet.