Party like it’s 1989

Eric had his 30th high school reunion the first weekend of August. And yeah, we actually left our house to attend, Eric because he was interested in catching up with classmates and me because we have a pact that we never face a social situation alone and I had to.

And it was fine. I mean, it was loud and there were people there, but those people were genuinely excited to see their classmates. Maybe it’s because everyone is pushing 50 and no longer cares about coming off as cool. Perspective!

I benefited from that perspective, too. Social situations make me anxious, and social situations involving the people I went to high school with (class of 1990!) put me back in the mental and emotional space I occupied during those years. Which isn’t pleasant on any level because: Angst and chaos and high school is terrible.

Well, it turns out I’m so far removed from that high school mentality that the angst and chaos never presented — and we even had fun. Eric enjoyed the first night so much that we were out until 11:30 p.m. (two hours past our bedtime!); the second night was more formal and we were outta there by 9:30, but mostly because Eric felt he’d talked to everyone he’d wanted to.

There was talk of kids in high school and parents with health issues and navigating both at the same time. About starting “second phases” of life with new partners. About jobs and retirement. About feeling a certain way and being shocked when you look in the mirror and are confronted with your age. There was a little reminiscing about the old days, I guess, but what I gleaned from the conversations is that people are firmly in the now. That there are bigger fish to fry than whether or not someone was popular.

I don’t know, I found that comforting. Maybe my 30th next year won’t be so terrible after all.

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4 thoughts on “Party like it’s 1989

  1. SarahN says:

    At my 10 year reunion, there wasn’t very many of us (maybe 40 of a 140 year group). My HS bestie flat out didn’t talk to me. That’s why we’re not besties anymore – she can be THAT petty. A bully did talk to me, and as the conversation meandered, I had the courage to say I recalled her stupid comment about my (blond) hairy legs in our PE skirts one day, waiting for class. My retort was quick: what, you’re a lesbian now Phoebe eh? But I brought it up ten plus years later, as much to say – thank you for growing up – thank you for talking to me like a normal human now. And she did say, let’s put that behind us. Let’s. I felt it good to clear that air.

    PS you pact is so very lovely.

    Like

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