March 30th, 2007
|02:52 pm - WVHS Class of '97? Eh. Yeah. I guess.|
After receiving my second invite to my 10 year class reunion, I want less to go. The Waubonsie Valley High School Class of 1997 (talk about a mouthful) seems insistent that I make the trip, but the fact that it falls in the center of ComFest, a major event for our Grove, as well as the general indifference I feel toward seeing most of my class again seems to make me want to go even less.
These feelings are likely exacerbated by the fact that I don't recognize a single name on the planning committee, either by their maiden or their married names. I'm not one to ask "who's gonna be there" before I decide whether or not to go, though. . . I'm more of one to say, "Well, is this experience worth $73 per person?"
Now, of course, the decision is practically made for me: I cannot skip ComFest. I'd feel silly, being asked, "Oh, so what do you do?" And replying, "Oh, I'm a priest." When they ask what I do, what do I say? "Oh, I'm supposed to be filling that role right now by representing my church, but I think I'd prefer to belly up to the cash bar with a bunch of high school friends I probably haven't talked to in years, listen to music from the late 1990's, and try and score with the chic who turned me down ten years ago."
[The fact that they played "The Macarena" three times at my Senior Homecoming dance might just explain why the music isn't really peaking my interest, despite the fact that the late '90's was a great time to be listening to music in Chicago.]
There's a lot I miss about WVHS, and there's a lot of friends from the WVHS Class of '97 that I'd like to see again. You know, at some point. Down the road. When I'm not so busy and it doesn't cost me $73 to do it.
Possibly the most curious thing about this whole thing is that when I got the first email, I was mildly excited. It sounded like fun, initially, and even offered some feedback. I dunno. Over the past few months, since I heard about this shindig in November (at least, I think it was November), my own interest has dropped off quite a bit. My "interest curve" would probably look like this:
Heck, at this point, I'm even undecided about sending in the "Information about your life!" form they sent me.
I suppose some part of me hopes that the people I do want to see again at some point won't be offended that I didn't care enough to send in the little "CIA factsheet"-style info request, but honestly, I'm not difficult to find, nor am I necessarily hiding out. I mean, Google will find me in no time flat.
Eh, the more I think about it, the less I want to do it. So, for now, we'll just stop thinking about it. It can't and won't happen anyway.
Current Location: Southeast of Disorder
Current Mood: apathetic
Current Music: "Frank and Lola", -JB
If you really want a baby, I hear that there's a black market called "adoption" for them. Not sure they're the kind you want (I understand that most are "slightly used" at best), but they're out there.
That was an amusing first semester. I think most people remember you from that, at least the few I keep in touch with.