Throwback Thursday: The Class of 93 Edition

I loved high school. I mean I loved it. I had great friends. I was in every musical organization possible and I was in theatre and I was a cheerleader. I dated a soccer player and we went to every cheesey event possible fully dressed for whatever theme the studen council created. Out of my class of 268 I received the top service award. I had done the very most for my school. I really- really- loved high school.

When it was time to graduate I cried for a week. How would I ever find a place as lovely for me as high school? How would I ever stop being a Panther? What would I do with all of the blue and red clothes?

Then, I went to college. And man I loved college. I was in marching band and choir and I was a cheerleader and I decorated my dorm in green and white and I loved everything about being a Bobcat.

Now that I’m a grown-up, I love everything about being in my community. We’re active at our local YMCA and we go to town events and I teach piano to the kids in the area and my daughter will attend public school. I would be a cheerleader for my town if there was such a thing. Although I’d need to be a cheerleader who keeps both feet on the ground at all times. My toe touch days are long over. But still. I would do it. And I would love it. Because I love my town.

Two weeks ago I attended my twentieth high school reunion.

What? You can’t possible be old enough to have been out of high school twenty years! You look sooooooo young!

I know, right? And thanks.

But yes. It was my 20th. And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I had attended my tenth and had a blast. Back then my husband and I were days from moving to NYC. We had exciting stories to tell. I was thin and tan (spray tan, not real) and my nails were done and I was wearing the perfect dress. I had the time of my life.

As we drove to the venue for my twentieth I was feeling less confident. I had ordered the perfect dress, but it hadn’t arrived in time. I threw several things into the suitcase back in CT and chose a random dress from it when I got out of the shower. It was nice. It was fine. But it wasn’t what I’d planned. I was going to paint my nails earlier in the day but there hadn’t been time. I worried about the wrinkles around my eyes. I worried about the ten pounds I’ve added in the past year. I worried that the financial troubles that almost kept us from attending would not only be visible, they’d be the only thing anyone noticed.

And. I had a great time.

Once I started chatting and connecting with classmates I forgot about our financial woes and my nails and the dress that was a second choice. I was too busy spending time with people. Catching up, yes. But also having real conversations. The kind of conversations you’re not supposed to have at parties because they’re too divisive. And we shared pictures of kids. And we remembered some good memories. But mostly we just created a new memory.

And I realized- that’s the key. I remember the good times. I could still sing the fight song (and do the cheerleading routine) and I still have (but don’t wear) my Varsity jacket. And we go to our college homecoming every year and march in the alumni band and pretend we’re young. (And then get reminded by our bodies the next day that no. No we’re not.) I remember all of it as good times. Great times even. But I never look back on them as the best times. I can’t imagine living that way- thinking the best of my life was behind me.

When I first started blogging over at blogspot I wrote this piece. It really is funny how neatly my life has been divided. And it makes me terribly excited to see what’s in store for me in the next ten years. Especially at Starbucks. Did you know the pumpkin spice flavor debuted ten years ago? Man. What flavor will change our lives thus decade? Whatever happens between now and 2023, I’m looking forward to them as the best years of my life so far.

Go Panthers


A celebration of utter silliness as my high school boyfriend and I recreate our “Most Devoted Couple” pose from our senior yearbook. Not taking things too seriously: the key to a fun reunion.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Christy Rolfes Hoyng
    Aug 29, 2013 @ 21:23:17

    Love the blog! Go Panthers!


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