~Reunion-ing v2.5

I feel my reunion officially began Friday night with the drunken dial of a classmate I've know since the 4th grade, checkin' to see where I was, as she felt I should have been at the hometown drinking establishment where she and a few other classmates found themselves randomly congregating.  It warmed my heart to get a little outta the blue 'your being thought of' sign.  (Isn't that so corny?  Alas, 'da World ain't a corny free zone ya'll, so suck it.) 

It got me thinkin' about the fun I knew I was in for the following night. 

I know there are lots of people who feel very much like, 'I didn't like those people then, I'm not goin' to see them now', or I don't even know?  Maybe they feel like a reunion is another chance to be judged or sumthin'? 

"They" exist and if that's what ya feel that's totally valid and shit-- to each their own...but I do not get it.  At all. 

Of course any time you're not sitting in a room alone somebody's judging you.  I know who I fuckin' am so what do I care about what someone else thinks?  A:  I do not.  (Ok, obviously, I care what people think about me, frankly it's one of the main reasons I haven't shanked anyone yet.  Er, I just mean, I guess I don't care what anyone thinks about my four wheels that get me to and fro, nor what anyone thinks about my thighs, or how many to the left of the decimal point my savings reaches.  That I couldn't give a shit about.  ...Heeeeeeere's BBG:  Like it, love it, hate it, ignore it-- those are the options, your pick and I'm pretty cool with whatever ya choose, ya know?)

Digress much? 

Anyhoo, if you are staying away from your reunion rethink it.  I can almost promise that unless you actually attended school with this chick:

Your classmates really want to see you and that you'll have a great time seeing them.  I'm not sayin' you'll leave and want to institute an every 5 day contact schedule or anything, but I can say you'll have a good enough time that you'll wanna see them again in 5 years. 

Per Nike:  Just Do It.

(Per BBG:  Just Fuckin' Do It!!)

Here are some of the things that may happen if'n you do:

~You may find a new/old friend.  I've had this friend request for fuckin'ever but I could not place that face and the name was hazily sketchy to me too.  (In fairness, in my minds eye he's still 11, so this grown up FB pic meant nuthin'.)  Some of you may know my litmus test for Facebook friending is:  1) Friend people who are actual, real, honest to God friends.  B) Friend people you like and who you have or would share a beer with.  Nobody else gets in.  Therefore, this cat didn't make the cut.  While reunioning I introduce myself to some guy with fanfuckingtastic pants, who was there with a classmate, he tells me his name is Xxxx XxXxxxxxx (code name: Burberry) and it is this same FB request person I've ignored for the past year and a half.  Turns out he, along with his twin brother and I went to Our Lady of Bad Catholic Kids together!  Plus, we were having a PBR so friend request accepted.  Welcome Burberry!

~You may find yourself making the boy (codename: Fuck Truck, which FYI and I don't know why I feel the need to make this full disclosure I have no direct knowledge of.  He drove this cool ass rockin' mystery van back in the day.  It was just always referred to as the fuck truck.) you asked to Sadie Hawkins, who rejected you and broke your lil' teenage BBG heart (well...as much as your 15 year old heart can be broken...) cry.  Ok, technically I didn't make any water pop outta his peepers, but apparently I gave him such a hard time that later he felt compelled to make things right when he grabbed me and pulled me in for a 25+ years later smoooooooove 80's couples dance.  Yeah, baby, ya know the one.  Arms around his shoulders/arms around her waist combined with the slow circular shuffle. I laughed so hard.  And then spent some introspective time considering what the unyielding need and internal delight of making others feel uncomfortable says about me.  Conclusion:  Ima ass. In further make right-yness, Fuck Truck bought me a beer, so I guess now we're even.  (Note to Fuck Truck:  I do still have a story about a broken towel rack.  That ought to rate a hug and beer at the next reunion, right?)

~You may do the splits.

~You may feel some new boobs.  ...I thought to myself, 'I didn't remember (codename:  9-to-5) being so chesty'.  That lil' gem of internal dialogue was followed with, 'well, it's not like I spend a lot of time checkin' out other girls racks, I've got my own' and quickly continued on with my general tomfoolery and shenanigans.  Later someone unsolicited mentioned they were new.  Due to my chronic assyness and acute lack of appropriateness, my response to that news was, "I taught her how to use a tampon.  I'm gonna touch those tits."  Needless to say and embarrassing to admit poor 9-to-5 (who for obvious reasons will now be referred to as Dolly) found herself allowing a BBG to get to second base during a subsequent conversation.   Dolly asked how they were?  Honestly, I don't know.  I don't have a lot of experience with boobs, other than deez boobs.  (somewhere in mid-America a big brown girl cups her ta-tas and giggles by the glow of her computer)

~You may find that your classmates bring some fun ass spouses to the mix.  Several made me think, 'if I lived here I'd totally be friends with him/her too'.  Which is really nice to be able to say about strangers.

~You may learn that several of your classmates hold positions of importance in city government, education and other fields, which will make you think there is sumthin' seriously wrong with the world that lets someone who you've seen beer bong be in charge of anything.

~You may have self discovery.  You may find out that you're a hugger.  I always say I'm not a hugger.  Apparently this makes my pants on fire.  I hugged everybody.  Literally.  Wait.  I shook one hand.  All others were hugged whether they liked it or not.  Serious biz, how wrong must that one hand shaker rub me?  I also was reminded of how much of a flitter I am.  I took my seat for dinner.  Every moment before and after involved me flittin' here and flittin' there.  I really enjoy a big buncha friends.  Too often I'm in smaller groups of friends thus ruling out flitting opportunities.

~You may notice that when you look around the room you see grown ass men standing with their arms draped around another talking and doubling over in laughter, how comfortable it is to be with people you have history with.  Even if it's been forever since you last saw them.  Observing how much has changed, and how out of touch we've all become (hectic lives, geographical distances, that we are old enough that FB wasn't around so you just lost contact with people, etc.) that the bond is still there, really caught me off guard for a moment and touched my heart.  Don't get me wrong, the girls were havin' a grand time too, but ya kinda expect girls to be a tad more demonstrative in their affections with one another.  Even now thinking of seeing the guys like that kinda makes my eyes well up.  Fuck off people.  Fuck off.

~You may be magically surprised by how real everyone is.

~You may make a drunken dial.  Perhaps to Joshua Tree.  Once I said "nice to meet you" to the wife of a classmate she told me that we'd met before, that she had gone to our HS (a couple of years behind us) at which point I asked her last name back in the day.  That's when shock and awe and drunkin' dialin' ensued.  When I met one of my besties, Somp a million years ago at my first radio job, she told me one of her friends from little girlhood had moved to my hometown and attended the same HS.  I recognized her name but couldn't put a face together.  Until Saturday it had always been a smallworldness between us, Somp and me.  I was sooooo pleased to add the final component to it when I officially met her childhood friend, EK.  Even though Somp was camping at Joshua Tree where I suspected cell reception was limited I felt EK and I had to give it a whril.  I knew hearing our voices together would be a surprising delight for Somp who as she later told me, knew EK married a guy from our hometown, but didn't know that he also had attended our HS/my class.  Small ass world! 

~You may have to compose an email containing the line, "you should know that you are incredibly lucky I didn't slip you the tongue when you asked me to smooch you. ;-p" 

~You may learn about people passing.  I was saddened to hear of the deaths of 4 of our classmates.  I had known about a couple but had not heard about the others.  Gone too soon. 

~You may find that you are standing between parents of toddlers and grandparents who years ago walked in the same graduation procession, which I think is a spectacularly wacky combo.  It just underscored how different our lives have become, yet how much we enjoyed one another as we chatted, reminisced and giggled our way through the evening sans awkwardness.

~You may find yourself singing karaoke badly.  In strict adherence to my main rule of karaoke (do it outta town).  I tortured my classmates twice.  Once on my own, once as part of a duet for the Clint Black and Wynonna classic, 'Bad Goodbye'.    

(Irish For Life, 2011)

~You may have sooooo many good n' funny stories that you have to limit yourself in your blog.  Seriously limit yourself.

~You may find yourself saying, "I've had a grrrrreat time" and "I'll see you in 5 years!!"  I did.

Special thanks to all of those who pitched in to organize and put together our reunion, and to those who traveled so far to go home to grab a beer with some folks they hung with a quarter of a century ago. 

A big ass I missed you to all who didn't attend. 

Lastly, a shout out to my folks who on cops/nurse salaries sacrificed to send me to a place where I met such good kids.

P.S. Thanks to those of you who mentioned that you keep up with 'da World.  It came as a complete surprise to me.  A surprise of the most delightful sort.