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October 20, 2005
Don’t You (Forget About Me)
The class of 1985 held its 20th high school reunion this past weekend. In the weeks leading up to the event, I experienced a fair amount of angst over how best to present myself to people I hadn’t seen in twenty years. What did I have to show for all that time? I didn’t have a Grammy, a corner office, or a fancy car. I still didn’t have boobs, real or fake. I have some new scars, three boys and a husband, and a paid off minivan. How would I measure up?
I read an article recently in which a man who interviews a lot of job applicants says he always asks interviewees to describe themselves in high school. He thinks that the way people say that they used to be in high school is actually the way they see themselves now. I had a hard time believing that when I first read it.
In high school, I dressed like Madonna in the “Borderline” days, complete with fishnet hose, stilettos and fingerless lace gloves. I was boy-crazy. I was on the dance team– we wore sparkly leotards and gold boots and performed at the football games. I had lots of friends, but I didn’t belong to any particular clique. My drinks of choice were Riunite or Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers. I was smart and took several Advanced Placement classes. My favorite subject was English. I was a leader, and I was going places. I’ve changed a lot since then.
Friday night we gathered together for the first time in twenty years. Almost everyone was there:
The tall, beautiful brunette who’s still tall and beautiful, and also has five boys. I don’t know how she’s managed to do both.
The guy who says he’s discovered the perfect martini.
The girl who works for the State Department AND sings and plays guitar in a band.
The girl who’s living in L.A. and takes pole dancing lessons as a hobby.
The idea of pole dancing as a hobby garnered lots of interest from the attendees. Because I am a faithful US Weekly reader, I was well aware that pole dancing is not just for strippers anymore. It’s a bona fide form of exercise, at least on the West Coast, although a lot of the Southerners had to be convinced of that.
Everyone ogled the pole dancing girl and agreed that pole dancing does provide physical benefits. I heard one man ask his wife if she’d consider canceling her gym membership if he had a pole installed in their bedroom.
(That night I did a little pole dancing research and discovered that there are companies that teach pole dancing, and businesses that supply the accouterments. Apparently anyone can do it, although the sport can be risky, especially if you have breast implants.)
Saturday there was a gathering for graduates and their families at the high school to “see how much it had changed.” I wasn’t fooled by the invitation. I knew no one wanted to see the new baseball fields. The point of the lunch was to show up with your spouse and children to prove that in family life, at least, you had been successful.
I didn’t let the fact that both Drew and Finn had fever stop me from participating in the show. I put all three boys in clean shirts and made them brush their teeth in the middle of the day, which caused a great amount of consternation in the Glamore house.
I impressed upon them the importance of looking my fellow classmates in the eye, saying yes ma’am and no ma’am, and shaking hands. No boogers were to be removed from noses and all farts were to remain in bottoms and released only inside a bathroom. Once I was satisfied that my boys were going to act like proper denizens of the Tiny Kingdom, we departed.
Seeing my fellow classmates with spouses and offspring was surreal. All the kids ran around, threw footballs and jumped in an inflatable moonwalk while the adults caught up on what everyone had been doing the last two decades.
Some developments were not surprising. The boy who was always called upon to fix the film projector when it broke is now a successful software engineer. Others had taken surprising career paths, like the quiet girl who runs a lobbying firm. Some had exotic jobs– one of my oldest friends lives in Paris and arranges walking tours of the city.
My boys behaved like gentlemen. Bill was his usual sexy self. I, on the other hand, apparently listened to “Private Dancer” too many times while getting dressed. My denim miniskirt was entirely too short, and I was showing a lot more skin than any other graduate there. It was my good fortune that the organizers did not hand out an award for “Most Whorish Housewife.”
Saturday night the adults assembled one last time for a band party. The 80’s cover band ground out “My Sharona,” “I Will Follow,” and “Jessie’s Girl.” We danced and drank and talked some more. The discussion turned to what we were glad to leave behind from high school, including:
–Boy George
–Bad taste in men
–Certain people
–Datelessness
–Hormonally spawned feelings of inadequacy
–Fake IDs
–Physics
Overall everyone seemed very happy, and most spoke of their friends and families, not their cars or houses. I’m sure some people have corner offices, but they weren’t discussing them. They debated Pampers vs. Huggies, the cost of ballet recital costumes, and sleep schedules.
After I got home, I thought about myself, then and now. Maybe the job interviewer is right– in some ways I’ve changed, but in some ways I’m just the same.
The Riunite and wine coolers have given way to gin and tonics and wine, but I relive my dancing years everyday in Jazzercise. I confess that lots of times I find myself in the gym, pretending I’m wearing gold glitter boots instead of sensible aerobic shoes. I dance and smile at the wall as though I was in front of a stadium full of screaming fans.
I continue to make bad fashion choices. I’m still an English geek and I may have lost a few brain cells along the way, but I persist in thinking that I’m intelligent.
And of course, I’m still boy-crazy. But now it’s better than ever. The boys whose love I crave are not only attainable, but undeniably mine: true love always.
Posted by Anne Glamore @ 3:00 pm • Deep Thoughts, Fashion: Turn To The Left!, Faux Pas, Glamorous Escapades, Tiny Kingdom Exclusive Stumble it!
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October 20th, 2005 at 4:13 pm, Sandra Miller Says:
Very nice post, Anne. You really captured the class reunion experience here– and put it all in wonderful perspective.
October 20th, 2005 at 6:29 pm, D double E Says:
OK, you gave me that feeling again. The same one I get when I take my boy to the local high school football game up the street. The high school is pretty much the same, but it just isnt quite the TK. And it makes me just feel old.
Hey, at least I have 4 more years till my 20th.
20.
Crap. I AM old.
October 20th, 2005 at 6:59 pm, Sandra Miller Says:
Oh Dee,
You, my friend, are just a baby… I saw my 20th six years ago.
… yikes.
October 20th, 2005 at 7:42 pm, Jeni Says:
What a fun post… I suppose that, if schools did that sort of thing, I would have had my 5th reunion this summer… Hehehe. I’m sure that you looked super hot in your miniskirt- just ’cause the other mom have crappy legs doesn’t mean you can’t show yours off!
Oh, if only I had left physics behind in hgigh school… *sniff*
I don’t know about the high school image thing. In high school, I was quiet, shy, had no friends, was a tomboy, hated science, and wanted to be an English teacher. Now, I just graduated with a biology degree, have a ton of friends, am too outgoing for my own good, wear pink and makeup, and just applied to vet school.
I guess I still love english, and maybe, if I’m perfectly honest, I only wear mascara. But other than that, I’m pretty different from back then!
October 21st, 2005 at 8:59 am, Carmen Says:
Anne, can you please email me?
October 21st, 2005 at 9:31 am, Running2Ks Says:
Oh that really sums it up, doesn’t it. BTW, I love the music. This post had me rolling–boogers staying in the nose and farts staying in the bottoms.
I don’t blame you one tad for being boy-crazy.
Now that I have read this, I feel very content in staying home from my own reunion
This was the true experience I needed.
October 21st, 2005 at 10:06 am, JoL Says:
I have my 20th coming up in 3 weeks in another state. We have a picnic that day “with family invited” so we will cart the kids up there in my PAID-FOR MINIVAN. By the way, I left high school with a perky C cup then 3 kids later am in the “barely A” crowd. I have no boobs fake or real. I found 3 whiskers above my right lip and quickly exterminated them.
By the way, my 10 year old IS SHAVING HER LEGS (actually most of them do, and I started then), and the same day I saw my 2 year old climb on the potty to go by herself. I am not ready for this!!!!
October 21st, 2005 at 12:30 pm, liz Says:
Great post and such a beautiful ending.
October 21st, 2005 at 5:27 pm, Lucinda Says:
I feel like I went to your reunion with you, Anne. And I was so relieved to read about the miniskirt– That is totally something I would’ve done. At 30, I’m still wearing a lot of the same clothes as my teenage stepdaughters would wear… I keep forgetting that it might be appropriate to change, though, before I go to open house at the high school- Suddenly, I feel totally inappropriate! Sigh…
Thanks for making me feel a little more normal.
October 21st, 2005 at 8:08 pm, The girl who works for the State Department AND sings and plays guitar in a band Says:
excellent! couldn’t have said it better myself!
however, i must say that at no time during the weekend was i tempted, even just a little, to go to the ladies room and smoke a cigarette. so — at least one thing has changed with me in 20 years
cs
October 28th, 2005 at 8:54 pm, susan from Montgomery Says:
Great post! Brought back memories.
I had mine last summer. We had a race car driver, a bush pilot in Alaska, an underwear model in New York (he was scrawny and never had a date in high school), a Fund manager (a guy my dad had wanted me to stop dating in high school because he thought he was lazy), Bill Riley’s lawyer (went to UVA law school and is obnoxious–know him?), several ministers, including one that used to do be a total pothead and did nothing but listen to heavy metal, and an aerospace engineer. Frankly, I felt a little boring.
By the way, were you a star spangled girl? Just wondering. (I was a Rebelette.)
October 14th, 2007 at 8:09 pm, My Tiny Kingdom » Only In Alabama? Says:
[...] years ago in Tales From My Tiny Kingdom: Don’t you (Forget About Me) Posted by Anne Glamore @ 8:09 pm • Southern Comfort [...]