After a chat today with a friend from high school, I think I’ve made the decision to attend my 10-year reunion. I was waffling a bit before today because though I want to go for the “morbid curiosity” factor, I don’t want to wind up by myself at this sports bar in Philly that probably only serves meat and beer, stuck between drunken members of the football team trying to explain to them that, yes, I really was in your class and, no, I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. Fortunately, though, it seems a number of friends are planning on going, so I’ll likely plunk down the $65. A few things are certain:

  1. I will be going stag. Huyen’s reunion is the next day many, many hours away, so she’ll be at hers and I’ll be at mine.
  2. Thanksgiving is going to be confusing thanks to the scheduling of the reunion(s). I may end up spending it alone.
  3. There’s a very short list of people I sincerely hope will attend so I can make contact with them again. These are the people that I haven’t been able to find through normal means.
  4. I’m as curious to see how the people I hated turned out as I am to see how the people I was friendly with did.
  5. I will be attending sans pants.