But no, my dear Friday Friends, I am a mere 28, though I do appreciate all of those lovely compliments about my wisdom and vast maturity.
Anyway.
The invite came as a surprise to me. Not because I cannot do math (I can, thankyouverymuch) but because I don't know a lot of people from high school anymore and so it hadn't occurred to me that it has actually been 10 years. I, like many others, didn't love high school and the only person I still see from that time (my Romy or my Michele, depending on the day) is my friend Maddie, who I've known since second grade.
Since getting our highly personalized Facebook invitations to the reunion, Maddie and I have had several debates about whether or not we should attend, mostly based on which peers we would like to catch up with versus those we (ok, really I) have a kind of carwreck curiousity about - perhaps hoping that they are living on a lumpy futon in their parents' basement.
GASP! you might say. Who would have thought a mature, wise, 28-year-old-who-seems-like-she's-29 might take such an approach to seeing her fellow graduates?
I think what it comes down to for me is that there are so many definitions of a successful life. I see mine as successful right now. I feel strong and secure in my job. I own a house in the city. I live independently. I learn something new every day. I am happy and I find a lot of joy in the things I do each day. That said, I know that for some of my fellow graduates, the definition of a successful life has more to do with their marital status and number of children. Let me be clear, I think those things can be part of a successful life. They just don't happen to be part of my version of it. And when we're only 10 years out of high school, it feels like the difference still matters. Thus the debate.
To help Maddie and I decide whether or not we should attend, we watched Romy and Michele's High School Reunion in order to be well-researched. Our class had its fair share of delicious drama, but I don't think that anyone will be meeting Alan Cumming there to do an interpretive dance to "Time After Time." Or seeking out their own mysterious Minnie Driver or John Cusack after 10 years apart.
Then again, perhaps Romy and Michele and Gross Pointe Blank have spoiled my idea of what a high school reunion should be.
In the end, Maddie and I still haven't decided whether to go. Perhaps we'll decide the day of. I can say that I feel grateful to have a Romy (or Michele) to go with or not go with and pretend to have invented Post-Its,
images from here and here.
