20 years?!

There were only 48 kids in my high school class. Very small, very insular school. Which was good and bad. Good because it provided a sense of groundedness. It was a strong, solid community. Bad because it was so small, everyone knew everything about everyone. And if you started there in kindergarten, your social place was set in stone from then on. It was nearly impossible (or at least extremely daring) to reinvent yourself or try anything (or anyone) new. If, God forbid, you transfered in later (especially post-junior high), everyone immediately defined you by the first person you happened to stand next to in the hall. It could take years to undo any unwanted associations and create your desired social niche. And by then everyone was off to college.

What a challenge. I loved it.

Next weekend is my 20-year reunion. Well, technically, 21 years, but our class couldn't get it together last year to organize a party, so we hitched onto the class of '87. We're such slackers. They're not much better, considering that the party will be at the local dive bar where we all went to get served underage back in the day!

I'm nervous to see everyone. Mostly because I know they'll all be wondering why I haven't gotten married and had kids like the rest of them. I guess I wonder that too ... but I trust that my life has gone its own path, and with no regrets, I've enjoyed most of it. No complaints. Besides, I've always done things my own way rather than following the crowd, so it's probably what everyone expects of me! That was, after all, my place in the social schema.

What everyone expects shouldn't matter anyway, right? But reunions bring that out in the best of us.