The High School Reunion

Disclaimer: This post does not reflect on Michele, Jesse, or Dan, the three attractive, kind, and successful people who accompanied me to my 10-year reunion.

Happiness is the balding, overweight 20-something jocks who still don't know your name, and you don't care anymore.

Happiness is when the three wild guys who would show up drunk to homeroom every morning avoid the bar and walk around from table to table with a cult-like vacant stare, not really remembering anybody from high school but trying their darnedest.

Happiness is when the drunken party girl is still drunk, only now instead of being funny, she's just pathetic.

Happiness is knowing she must have a lot of time on her hands to deal with the hangover she's going to experience tomorrow.

Happiness is laughing at the guy who tells everyone, "I don't know how to break this to you peeps but - uh - I'm kind of a big deal in Boise."

Happiness is having lived in Boise for over a decade and never having heard anything about that guy. But did you see that huge article that featured me on the front page of the Idaho Statesman a few months ago? (Okay, so it was a teaser on the front page and a full article on the front of the Life section.)

Happiness is knowing that most of your clothes from high school are too big for you now, and you can see that most of the people in the room wouldn't be able to say that.

Happiness is the fact that you are not one of the two crazy girls in the corner asking everybody, "Where's Craig? If Misty comes, we're still going to kill her." Huh? Who are those people?

Happiness is knowing that the guy who used to sexually harass you and make fun of your body is now bordering on obesity and has a nice set of man boobs.

Happiness is knowing that the other guy who used to sexually harass you is now a born again off-the-deep-end End Times fundamentalist who lives his life in guilt-ridden repentance.

Happiness is knowing that you have only been married once in the ten years since high school, you are still married, and if you ever have kids, they will all have the same father, not five or six different ones.

Happiness is appreciating the few sincere people who do remember you from high school and say to you, "I was so sorry to hear about your mother."

Happiness is not knowing, remembering, or recognizing most of the people at your 10-year reunion.