Why I'm glad that's over

Well the ten year reunion has come and gone, and I guess it was pretty much what you would expect out of a ten year reunion: a roomful of people not talking to the same people they didn't talk to in high school, only now the majority of them had to go home at the end of the night to pay the baby-sitter. I suppose overall it was a success, going by the amount of wine I consumed, which I measured not in glasses but rather by my overall decibel level, as in retrospect I remember becoming Very Loud towards the end of the evening. (Apologies to anyone I may have yelled and/or talked very loudly at). Other than that last glass of wine, and that shot, for that matter, my only regret was my shoes, but at $11 I guess you get what you pay for. However, I think next time I'll spring for a pair with room to accommodate all ten toes.

Highlights of the evening include accompanying Jason to the men's room and carrying on a steady stream (pun intended) of conversation as he used the urinal next to me, and surprising the heck out of someone's poor husband who walked in (followed by Alan, who was surprised not at all), as well as re-visiting a blast from the past via this conversational gem:

"Hey Jas, look, there's a picture of your brother on my camera."

"Oh, is that from the night you made out with him?"

"Shut up, that was so long ago! No. This is my sister's camera, I borrowed it."

"Oh, so is that from the night she made out with him?"

"I hate you."

And now, the class of 1998 ten year high school reunion in very brief pictorial review, as cameras plus wine are a bit much to handle simultaneously, even for the best of us:

The spunkiest of all talking cupcakes, Tal, and the intrepid and occasional guest blogger, Erin.

Me and Jas. (I seem to have lost an upper lip. If anyone has seen it please contact diaryofwhy at gmail dot com). (Or, as Jarvis Cocker would say, I seem to have left an important part of my face...somewhere...in a restaurant in Frederick, alright. [That one's for you, Tal]).

Definitely not drunk.

There was a picnic/reunion part deux the next day, which was pretty much more of the same, minus alcohol, plus kids, so I'll leave you to do the math on that. I include a picture of me and Molly from the event as evidence that I can occasionally look somewhat like a normal person (assuming normal people also look slightly hungover and tend to lose their top lip from time to time).

Amigas

For an alternate and much less one-sided perspective of the event, visit Tal's top ten post. (Number 4 makes me laugh out loud and curse the gods of wine and small bladders for causing me to miss seeing that).

Ticket to ten year reunion: $75
Dress: $34
Being asked where I'm living now, and answering, "Actually, I'm moving to France on Monday": PRICELESS!

A bientôt!