And you totally want to know who they are, and what they said, because you didn't go to your 10 year reunion because your actual BFF from High School, Shawna, thought she wanted new ceiling fans more than tickets to the event. And you sort of agreed with her that ceiling fans would be the better investment, in the long run.
Fact is, you REALLY didn't want to go to the reunion alone, or even with just your super-hot husband on your arm. You were afraid you wouldn't know anyone there, because only the extra, icy-cool kids would come to the reunion, the ones you had almost nothing to do with. You were busy editing the Editorial page on the newspaper, not dating any boys, and adjusting your kilt and pulling up you knee socks on your horrifying drill team uniform, while they were busy being awesome, 90210 style. Only their zip was 91344.
You pretty much looked exactly like the above googled image of the Highlander Drill Team (is amazing what you can find, eh?), except somehow these kids got outta wearing the knee socks with little flags on them. Lucky ducks. And even though you had John Elway's very, very OLD Spanish 3 book, it didn't make you look any cooler; not while you were wearing that jabot (lacy neck thingy), or when someone had to explain to you who John Elway is.
Even though you are in all the fake yearbook photos of the prom, you didn't actually go, like the cool kids did. (The prom was on a boat out of Long Beach. I have no idea who this guy is/was.)
Anyway, you were pretty sure the highest tier of class-of-'91 society only attended the reunion with the evil plan to make the not-terribly-cool kids feel like they did in high school, just one more time before they died. (that is, mildly lame, like when they've found broccoli bits from their morning omelettes stuck in their braces as they floss before bed).
Plus, people might have noticed that you looked a little squishy, and that your legs were not in top kilt-ready form, since you just had baby Jane just 2 months previous to said reunion.
Of course, you were just being dumb and paranoid, as usual, cause then you got emails and cards from people who missed you at the reunion, and you were a little sad you didn't go. Because your actual friends were there, ones you lost because you moved from California to Arizona within weeks of graduation in 1991. And some of them were cool kids, only you'd forgotten. You also forgot that almost everyone (cool, uncool alike) spends most of high school feeling like they've got the broccoli teeth.
Really, all this mental turmoil took took all of about 15 minutes, over the course of 10 years. So, really, you are making a bigger deal of it than it is, in reality. For blog effect. As usual.
Still, in the 7 years since, whenever you get the emails from classmates.com, containing potentially expensive messages from the past, you would wonder what they might say. Because you are human, and your extreme inquisitiveness is what differentiates you from the rest of the animal kingdom. That, and your opposable thumbs. Wait. That's not right.
Whatever. It's not important.
Because now, you know what the guestbook notes are about. You figured it out, without your Visa's help.
Those old friends just wanted to tell you that your high school, as you knew it, is gone. Since 2003. You don't really keep close tabs on things like that, and you just found out today. It is a charter school now. So now, the cheerleaders scream "GHCHS" instead of "GHHS". Apparently. And The Jets won't come and throw the whole student body a free concert in the gym because those kids wasted the most in-school, potential learning time, and killed the most trees, of all the kids in the whole of Los Angeles Unified School District, writing KIIS FM rocks GHHS on like 100,000 little pieces of paper. Those charter school kids would have to write GHCHS, and they'd likely think The Jets were even lamer than we did. (Though we screamed a lot, just to be polite. They did get me out of Algebra 2 for the day.)
And there might be even bigger changes at GHHS, besides the name, and the knee socks; you just don't know what they are. You're not really in the mood to google it, either.
So, RIP, GHHS. Now, if the gangsters have burned down Sepulveda Junior High School, somebody should let you know. You won't be surprised. Remember the drive-by shooting drills during PE? And all the ladies-of-the-daytime you could watch through the chain link fence, sidling up and down the other side of Sepulveda Boulevard? Course you do.
So, friends, how many of you attended (or will attend) your 10 year reunion? What about the 20 year? Has any one out there ever had any actual fun at one of these events?
P.S. You should tell classmates.com to stop harassing you. You aren't going to pay them. You are cheap that way.