class of '89 is still mighty fine...

Last Saturday was my 20th (gasp!) high school reunion. And I went. Which says a lot about where I am in my life. I think. Or else it should say a lot.

I didn't go to my 10th because I was four months pregnant with Sam and to be perfectly frank, I didn't think I could go to that event simply looking fat, not yet totally showing, and also totally unable to drink (because remember, with your first pregnancy, you're completely convinced that smelling alcohol causes birth defects).

Ten years and three kids later, I finally felt mature enough to go (though not mature enough to go without being able to have a drink). And though I freaked out about what I'd wear and put Boaz through the horror of being emailed a multitude of photos of me in dressing rooms wearing a variety of potential reunion-wear options, and though I had a little panic about what I would even talk to people about since um, we haven't talked in a very, very long time because as many of you know, I'm pretty crappy at keeping in touch (though keep remembering that it's nothing personal and I really love you), reunion night was incredible.

First of all, I was thrilled to see that my high school friends (all as bad at keeping in touch as I am, though really we had more in common than that) are all really cool, interesting people that I still really enjoyed talking to. And so even if we made some crappy behavior choices back then (think 4x4 Honda Hills in pitch dark after parties at Dom's house), we all turned out relatively well. And sociologically, how interesting that the people I loved back then are the same people I'd still want to be friends with today (if location and schedules weren't an issue, of course?) I'm choosing to go with the fact that sociologically, this isn't pathetic.

And not only was it amazing to see that we pretty much picked up where we left off as far as conversation goes (please tell me that's amazing, not pathetic), but also, we all looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Nice.