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I just got an email invite to my 20 year high school reunion. Now I feel old. I responed and said I'd come but really, why do I want to go? The only remote reason would be to claim some kind of personal psychological revenge on those who made life tough for me and have gone on to totally screw up their lives. Or maybe to show the girl that I was engaged to and who dumped me on Valentines Day, in our first year of college together, that in spite of her rejection, I have a successful life. But even that weak form of validation holds little amusement for me. Out of a class of over 1,000 there were very few I even considered marginal friends. And I've never kept up with the lives of any of them. I was more than happy to leave Northern Virginia behind and I've only returned a few times to visit old and true friends who happen to be older or younger than me.

By choice and design I was a member of a clique that pretty much every other clique looked down on or at least sideways at. I was a freak. That quasi redneck clique made up of mullet sporting Judas Priest/Iron Maiden fans, stoners, criminals and next generation flower children who hung out outside the metal shop wearing torn jeans, flannel shirts and either cowboy boots, hiking boots or moccassins, leather jackets or better yet denim or courduroy jackets with sheepskin collars. We were outcast enough that people generally avoided us out of fear or downright loathing. And that was fine with us. In a way, I think the freaks were the most accepting group of any of the cliques. While the other cliques were quick to toss out someone who didn't completely align themselves with all the stereotypical rules of the group, we accepted just about anyone. We had quasi jocks, geeks, nerds, gays and lesbians and even the occasional wannabe preppie in our ranks. We had no real hierarchy, just a loose association of people who occasionally spoke for us. The biggest thing was from the safety in numbers standpoint, we provided protection for those of us who otherwise would have gotten taken-advatage-of by all the other opportunistic cliques at that school. Other than the fact that we got into a lot of fights at Friday night football games, I think we were basically invisible to a lot of the other students and probably most of the faculty at that school. So I would imagine that if I do show up at the reunion, there will be a fair amount of people who will not even remember I was part of their class, much less be surprised at the direction my life has taken. I didn't bother with the 10 year reunion even though I was actually in the same town on the day it went on. So I'll have to do some thinking on why I would want to go to this one.



Feb. 19th, 2003 02:31 pm (UTC)
Same with me on the friends thing. Ted was a year ahead and Eric was a year behind. The one person I did have a fondness for in my class became a drug dealer and was killed in a raid some years back.



Wander aka StoneBear
Bear Dancer Studios

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