A blog post 20 years in the making.

Last night was my 20-year high school reunion. 

(if that's not an opening line that makes you feel old, I don't know what is.)

I don't know if I would have gone unless my friend D hadn't wanted to go. So, being the good sport that I am, I agreed to attend. And, since Mr. KK went to the same high school, he was coming too. (And, he would probably know more people than I did.)

Some people looked EXACTLY the same. It was as if their yearbook pictures popped off the page and morphed into actual humans. Others, I didn't even recognize (mostly the guys, some of whom had puffed up from drinking and possibly eating other classmates).

I didn't really keep in touch with people from high school, so after the "what have you been up to for 20 years?" question, the conversation lacked a little bit. 

Social media has definitely changed reunions. Some of my favorite quotes of the night:

• "Hey! Your facebook posts crack me up!"
• "I love seeing all the places you travel for work. You always seem so busy!"

and my favorite:

• "You sure like to drink." (As a matter of fact, I do. And I will need a whole shit load of drinks to get through this night.)

And what was the million dollar question of the night? Well, it pertained to pushing offspring from your vagina. Some of those conversations went like this:

"Hey! Do you have kids?"

KK: "No, no we don't. Oh. Well that why you look so great!"

"How many kids do you guys have?"

KK:  "We have one four-legged furry kid. He's home-schooled."

"So, did you have any kids?"

KK:  "No. I don't have a uterus." (I may not have said these exact words...)

The other highlight of the night was opening the time capsule. On graduation night, everyone filled out a questionnaire, sealed it in an envelope, only to be opened in 20 years. You could also put letters, pictures and other paraphernalia in there. My friend D got a million (no joke) letters addressed to her. It was like she was the mayor of high school. 

After reading my questionnaire, it seems besides my new and improved hair since high school, not much has changed.

First, my handwriting is exactly the same.

QUESTION: What will you be doing in 10 years?

ANSWER: married and working in Advertising. Check!

QUESTION: Who are your best friends?

ANSWER: Well, of the 10 people I listed, 8 of them I hadn't spoken to since college. 6 of them were there last night. All 10 of them I probably won't talk to for another 20 years.

Question: What's your dream car?

ANSWER: White Cabriolet Convertible. I never got that car, but I DO drive a Volkswagen. Half check!

QUESTION: Do you plan on staying in your home town?

ANSWER: No.

Technically, I didn't STAY in my hometown. I moved to Boston. And the question doesn't ask if I currently lived in my hometown. So...check!

QUESTION: Favorite food?

ANSWER: Cheese. Check! Check!

QUESTION: Favorite TV shows?

ANSWER: My Two Dads and Blossom. Hey, it was the nineties!

My contribution to the time capsule was a mix tape. (Again, it was the nineties!) It was a tape that my best friend and I had put together and listened to that whole following summer before heading off the college (where we would realize we were different people and then never speak to each other again. Anyone noticing a trend here?)

A snippet of songs from that tape:

Brown Eyed Girl

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

Paradise By The Dashboard Light

Ain't Gonna Hurt Nobody

The Joker

Jack And Diane

Baby Got Back

Mama Said Knock You Out

D:  "Ohmygod! You put in a tape! Can we listen to it on the way home?"

KK:  "Um, no. My car doesn't have a cassette player. We may never hear this tape again."

Oddly, though, if I had put in a VHS tape, that we could have watched. (Don't ask.)

I found one letter in the time capsule addressed to me, and it was from and ex-boyfriend. Mr. KK got a lot of miles out of that one, continually referencing his "nemesis". It was bordering on trying to be profound and referencing song lyrics and totally all high-schooly.

All in all, an okay night. I'm good for another 20 years.

And I was right: Mr. KK talked to more people than I did.