high school reunion
My 10 year reunion came and went last year and I stayed in New York. Outside of family obligations, few West Coast events outweigh the costs of cross-country travel for me. But this week, for no real reason, I am in Orange County. Tonight I met up with my best friend from high school who was in town from L.A. After she put her son to bed, we ran out to rent a movie. Standing in line at Blockbuster, deep in conversation about concessions, we looked up to see our high school calculus teacher. It’s been 11 years, but he still remembers our names, and the fact that I gave him a can of spam as a Christmas present. I still can’t get over how weird it is that I’m in Fullerton, renting a video with Cindy, and we see Mr. Knox. I almost feel like we should have been studying for an AP test rather than watching a movie.
Back at Cindy’s, she gets a call from our friend Melissa who still lives in the area, who says that another high school friend is visiting from Colorado. They come over, and the four of us sit in Cindy’s living room, reminiscing and chatting as if it were 1995. Of course, this time conversation is centered more on children, husbands, and “don’t worry, Amy, at least you look young.” It is still all very surreal and nostalgic. And far more worthwhile to me than having attended my official reunion.
