Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The letter might go something like this

Dear fellow graduates of the class of 1998,

In the 10 years since we've graduated high school, I've really thought of you very little.

With a few exceptions, of course.

Still, for some reason, I really want there to be a 10-year reunion. It should be this spring.

Last week, I thought about it and decided I wasn't sure if I would go.

This week, one of you sent me a MySpace message asking if I'd heard anything about it.

I hadn't. So I called a woman involved with the Fremont High Alumni Association to find out who was planning it and when it would be.

She said she had no contact for the class of 1998.

That means none of you have stepped forward yet to plan it.

I'm not surprised.

And none of you would be surprised to hear that I felt compelled to think about organizing it. I guess I still can't help it.

I asked more questions: Was she sure nobody was planning it? Is it possible for someone to be planning it without notifying the alumni association? How do you go about getting a list of addresses?

I contemplated getting the list (it costs $20 and would not have married last names or current addresses). But then I thought why exactly I would do such a thing.

I haven't thought about many of you since high school. I certainly haven't thought about many of you since my last summer at Ronin Pool when I got married and moved away.

I've got an awesome family now, a good job. I run races now and sometimes do well. I'm much more confident now. I care not nearly as much what you former popular people think.

I wish there was a way to get just the people I am curious about together. Can't we have a cross country reunion? A track team reunion? A journalism staff get-together? A student government or drama or German club reunion? A you-were-once-my-friends-and-I-miss-you reunion? That would be nice.

Well, in the end, I decided not to spend my time tracking down lost addresses and lost people, despite my curiosity as to how some of you turned out.

I do hope everyone's doing well.

And maybe there's still a chance someone else will pull something together.

And maybe I will go.

8 comments:

Jeannine said...

I love this post for every reason possible. You described the the feelings that go along with the ten year reunion thing perfectly. You made the right choice I think. The people you are meant to find out about and really want to find out will probably enter your circle again at some point one way or another. Out of my ten year reunion came a wonderful book club filled up with six other classmates, but in the long run I am sure we would have found ourselves getting together once a month with or without the reunion. Will I be on the 20 year reunion committee? I am sure of it, I will possibly be heading it up. Why? So the seven of us girls can have another excuse to get dressed up, have a glass or more of wine, and have some fun.

On a side note. Can't wait to see you!

Jonathan said...

Hi Veronica,

I really enjoyed this post. I thought over the past year or two about all of the Class of '98 high school reunions I feel I am entitled to go to (all 4 of them). Having spent each grade at a different school (each one in a different town) I am annoyed that my 12th grade school was the worst of the bunch; from best to worst, I would rank them 9th, 11th, 10th, and 12th. As a result, I guess I am in some ways better off than you and in some ways worse off than you.

Eventually, I would like to make a trip down from New Hampshire to Florida (to 2 towns in Palm Beach County and to 2 towns in Sarasota County) to visit my top 3 high schools (and any of my teachers that are still there) as well as the middle school I went to during the second half of 8th grade. Thanks for the reminder that it's good to think about these things.

Keep up the good work on Meow Musings, Veronica!

Grant said...

Isn't planning the HS reunion supposed to be the curse of being class president? Not that I have a clue who that was, but I thought that was protocol.

Would I go? Sure.

Do I need it enough to even consider planning it? Definitely not.

In my few and far between experiences back in Fremont I've found that a quick trip to Frank & Oly's usually suffices as a pseudo reunion.

But, Veronica, if you want to have a reunion with the friends-who-you'd-just-like-to-see-every-once-in-awhile. I'd be up for it. Just name the time and place.

Veronica said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jeannine said...

Yes, I helped put together the ten year reunion too. Our class president wasn't doing anything so a friend of mine and myself put together a committee and that was that.

Veronica said...

Turns out I was wrong about all this. Yesterday, I was invited to join the Class of '98 Myspace page, set up by the student body president and class president. So they're all over it. And that's good.

Veronica said...

Here was my earlier post, revised a bit:

So basically, Grant, you would help me plan the mini-reunion of just our friends? I wonder if we could compile a list of who we'd want to come and if we'd actually have e-mail addresses for the handful of people on the list?

And yes I think the class president is supposed to plan it, but I don't know who that was either.

You're right about Franky and Oly's, too. I haven't been there in years. And I don't miss it. :)

Jeannine -- did you help plan to the 10-year reunion, too? Good for you for knowing you'll be involved for 20. How cool to have six close girlfriends from way back when. I can't wait to see you either.

Jonathan -- I'd forgotten you never went to the same high school for more than a year. That must have been really tough. But it's those experiences that helped make you who you are, I guess. You should definitely do the Florida trip.

bryan said...

It took me way too long to contribute something to this discussion. Though whether or not I've actually contributed is up for debate.

My class didn't have a five-year reunion. Nobody liked anybody else enough to gather so soon. Nobody really mourned that loss, either.

Then, slowly, things got moving. And finally a date was set, forcing a decision: Do I really want to see the people who made parts of my first 18 years miserable?

Yes. Yes I did. Because I wanted them to see that I really didn't give a crap about their shoes, clothes, cars, jobs or money. I wanted them to see that I was happy, no matter what the former me was like.

The snotty ones were considerably less snotty, though I didn't really dig too deep. The athletic ones were fat, even though I turned out to be one of the better athletes anyway. The smart ones were still smart, but not near as smug. And half of them never left home.

Me? Less hair, for one. But also a lot less weighing on my mind, knowing my self-worth has nothing to do with what the assistant manager (and 12-year employee) at the old pizza place thinks of me.