Cue Awkward Small Talk

by K

I don't believe I've ever hoped for weekdays to go by as slowly as I'd like them to this week. Usually, by Tuesday morning I'm praying for the weekend, doing everything in my power to stay awake at my desk and focus on the tasks at hand before two glorious days of whatever I want. Then I got a postcard in the mail inviting me to an inevitable event for those of us in our late 20's, which happens to be coming up quickly this Saturday. An invitation that I knew was coming, and dreaded like a root canal. A invitation that would pose the question of, literally, the decade. Will I attend, or will I not?

That's right - it's time for my 10 year high school reunion.

Now there's kids like my sister, who's a freshman this year and already loving it like she was made for our 3,000 plus kids school. She's got a cute date to homecoming this weekend, is participating full force in spirit week, and has been to more football games in a month than I ever went to in four years. When her 10 year reunion rolls around, I can already see her thrilled to be there. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up on the committee to plan the thing.

Then there's kids like me. Never cool, always too small for my own good, and a prime example of a walking fashion disaster, I was one of the kids who was made fun of ruthlessly starting with day one in the cafeteria. I'll never forget the day the LARGEST girl I had ever seen sneered at all 4-foot-11 and 85 pounds of me... and then proceeded to throw a little cup of ketchup at my sweet purple Jansport backpack, ruining it and my superbly cool tshirt from Florida my grandmother got me on a recent trip. The ketchup matched the red streak in my hair that I'd dyed with koolaid over the summer, and likely also matched the color I'm certain my face turned immediately. I walked away with my head down, praying that the one (hot hot hot) senior guy I knew didn't see me, and biting my tongue because however small, I had a BIG righteous streak in me that was fighting to get out and get back at that girl with something witty and smart. In all honesty, I was afraid if I ever talked back she would literally sit on me, and so began my freshman year.

While I eventually grew into myself a bit, made friends and joined clubs and sports, I wouldn't say that high school was necessarily the best four years of my life, and because of that I can't imagine why I have allowed myself to be suckered into reliving it all this Saturday, but I'm going to do it anyways. I've run into several of my least favorite classmates over the years, including the ketchup tosser (who, for the record has only gotten BIGGER. Karma is a bitch, and I love it for these incidents exactly), and each time I have a minor panic attack as I suck in my breath and curse myself for still letting them get to me 10 years later. But this time, I will be prepared (drinks Saturday afternoon anyone?) and walking tall. I will obviously be going to great lengths to be sure I look and feel absolutely faaaaabulous this weekend, and I'm crossing my fingers that on Sunday I'll be looking back on it all (likely with a hangover), content with my decision to go.