It's that time of the every five years (is there a word for that?)? Class reunion time! I realize that I date myself by willingly publishing which reunion it is, but that's the least of my worries. It's the big 2-5!! As I write this I am totally conflicted as to whether I want to go or not. See, Facebook has created a whole new angle on the "should I or shouldn't I" front. Now you can search names and see photos of pretty much everyone you went to school with. Of course, this can be a good thing or a bad thing. In the case of my picture, it's an OK thing. I am terrible at taking pictures and then getting them on Facebook. It's so awkward taking a picture of yourself with your own cell phone. You're holding it at arm's length, trying not to have it wiggle, getting your finger on the button and making sure you're at least SORT OF centered. And it's a given that you're going to have some goofy look on your face.... how can you not? You're smiling at a cell phone! It's WEIRD! My result ended up with a picture so close you can count my pores.... but you know the upside of that? My weight remains a mystery! That part I like. For most people the camera adds 10 pounds. For me, it adds 30 (on a good day, a VERY good day!) which means I am more than happy to go with the close-up.
Some of the reunion events sound fun ... specifically the tailgating before the football game and the pizza party after. But a Saturday golf outing? Are they serious? If you read the info it assures everyone that five years ago it was SO MUCH FUN! Even if you don't golf! Right!!! OK, I don't golf. My experience with golf does not go beyond high school when we did golf in gym. All of us would line up in a long row outside and just hit balls. While you might see what I am about to write as slightly less than honest, I prefer to think of it as CREATIVE. I would keep an extra ball in my pocket, swing my club, act like it went really far out there, walk out to where I "hit" it and drop a ball in A or B range, cha-ching. I wasn't the only one doing it of course.... oh, great. Now 25 years later I have a guilty conscience!! Well at least I wasn't like (uh, let's call her Nancy for sake of me getting sued) who filled her entire forearm inside with French vocab words and their translations and then pushed up her sweater sleeve during the test. Anyway, I am one MEAN mini golf player (and I STILL know the French word for windshield wipers) ... but apparently my old classmates are too good for windmills and giant fiberglass clown heads. Snobs!
Who knows. RSVP's are due soon. I've only heard from one good h.s. friend of mine and she's not sure if she's going. Such enthusiasm! Guess it's the nature of the beast. The funny thing is, if George Clooney was in my class, I'd be there with bells on and drinking water and eating only carrots for the next few weeks! But no, no George Clooney at my high school.
I hate making big decisions. Guess this calls for the Magic 8 ball.... AGAIN!
Have a great day,