Tonight is my 11 year high school reunion. Yes, that's right, 11 year. That's because the girl who won the class president popularity contest senior year proved worthless when it came to planning. We all knew this in high school when we were the first class ever to not have a senior breakfast and were reminded when the five year mark passed without so much as a peep. For our ten year, she pretended to do some planning, then complained that no one liked her ideas (we're older now, no more kissing the popular crowds ass) and gave up. So someone that none of my friends can remember - I really don't even think she went to school with us - planned the whole thing and last week announced she wasn't coming. Oh, and in that same I'm-not-going-to-the-party-I-planned email, said planner announced that the venue had changed from a rather decent, outdoor banquet hall to a dark, smokey, dilapidated building 100 yards from our high school. Was the school gym booked?
In case you haven't picked up on it by now, I'm really NOT looking forward to this. I wasn't invisible in high school but I definitely wasn't part of the IT crowd. More like the person the IT crowd was pointing at. Most of the people I wouldn't mind seeing - the one's that if I saw them in the mall someday I wouldn't duck into the nearest dressing room or janitorial closet to avoid - aren't on the list of people going. In fact, I'm not on the list of people going. I was so convinced that CJ was going to bale on me that I never sent in my $40. Now I have to figure out how to pay my money at the front desk without letting on that I had no confidence in the person standing next to me.
AND, of course, I feel as though I haven't achieved enough in the past eleven years to face these people again. Graduate from college? Yes, but my student loans are making it difficult for me to convince my husband that we can afford for me to get my hair cut before the big affair. Motherhood? Yup - and she's gorgeous. But I'm a dietitian and I'm a good 40 pounds overweight for crying out loud. (I was thin in high school, I didn't appreciate it then, but I was thin!) Master's degree - well, two courses and a major project away, does that count? Home ownership - nope. Travel the world? Um, I've been to DisneyWorld AND DisneyLand. Where do I live? Even closer to our old school than that ramshackle building I'll be stuck in tonight. I want to show up tonight thin and beautiful, with perfect hair and long shiny nails wearing a stunning hand knit tank that I designed myself.
I feel like I did when I was 15. My parents weren't wealthy by any stretch and it seemed like everyone else always had MORE and BETTER than me. I used to have dreams at night that there were stashes of make-up and clothes in secret rooms in our house. I'd wake up to reality so disappointed I wanted to cry.
Mostly, I just want to go on with my life without having to be 15 again for the night. I like where I live, my friends and family live nearby, and people I've known my whole life get to know my daughter now too. I like being a home body who hangs out with her husband and knits for hours while watching Court TV. Would I like to be richer and thinner? Of course. But I want to like my life tomorrow too, without the opinions of the cheerleaders and prom queens making me doubt myself all over again.