The moment frozen in time: caps, filled with hopes and dreams, thrown high in the sky. The class of 1966 set off into the world, eager, excited and with little idea of the life ahead. Now, almost 50 years later, we reassemble along with the class of '65.
So this summer I'm helping plan my 40th (!) high school reunion. That seems like an awfully big number, us George Washington Patriots would never have imagined reaching -- let alone celebrating -- back in 1975.
I slip out the door and join the flow of traffic up the street, noticing someone across it with his eyes fixed on the front of the bar. I reenter the shadows and make my way.
The pavement seems to shake slightly, like in the first rumblings of an earthquake, as I dodge vehicles to reach a phone on the other side. No one else seems to notice these movements. Someone beats me to the phone.
The confessional is the perfect refuge from the lights. I wait and listen. How long has it been? A few minutes, an hour? I wish it had a lock. A sanctuary within a sanctuary.
I'm just as guilty of drive by affection as the next person, but these things creep into my thoughts regularly, and trouble me. I struggle to know who do I invite to a party, based on real life versus Facebook ties, and what does a given person feel about me in real-time versus the way they Like me online?
I thought I'd share a few coping mechanisms that worked for me, transforming a fright night into a pleasant party (if you're a social butterfly or an accomplished salesperson, these suggestions probably seem like second nature to you).
Now, high school reunions take place every morning, while you sit at your computer not doing work, browsing your former classmates' update statuses. "Hey, the chubby guy I sat next to in biology class ran another marathon this weekend. I guess I should 'like' it?"
Thanks to Facebook and my blog, most people already knew I was divorced. No one asked me if I was married. No one asked where my husband was. And while I did discuss bits and pieces of the divorce with a few people, I never once felt less than happy about where I am in life.
When that high-school-reunion invitation arrives, it divides people into three groups: "I can't wait to go," "I so do not want to go, but I will," and...
Men who still have hair will feel superior. Women who still wear the same dress size they wore in high school will feel blameless and perhaps just a little bit holy. Folks who have high-profile jobs and a happy home life will be equally canonized and reviled.
There's nothing like being with people who knew you when. The six girls got to the heart of what was in their hearts.
Melanie Young, 57, is big on reunions. "Everyone I know -- whatever age they are -- if they're single, I say 'Go to your reunions!'" That's because 17 years ago, at a high school reunion, Melanie's life changed forever for the better.
A Tennessee man claims he was attacked over the weekend outside his high school reunion because he's gay, but local authorities say they have no plans...
Hooking up with people who knew you in high school is always a loaded proposition. There are the inevitable comparisons of success in all things from career to marriage to how your offspring have fared.
It happened 25 years ago -- so why am I still thinking abou it today? "C" just sent me a friend request on Facebook.
I had no intention of going to my 40th high school reunion. I thought I'd escaped my high school class. Then more invitations and information about the reunion started flowing via Facebook.
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