Before I recap the weekend, let me offer a hearty welcome to our readers from far-off lands. Last week's visits represent Ukraine, Netherlands, Russia, Luxembourg, United Kingdom, South Korea, Latvia, Denmark, and Germany. Good day, all.
I watched a rerun of Top Gear from 2006. The hosts traveled to America, bought cars for $1,000, and drove from Miami to New Orleans. America did not come off well. But it's a comedy show; perhaps they edited out all the nice, fit folks. Nice isn't funny. Neither is skinny.
Obviously the big event this weekend was my high-school reunion. I admit to developing nerves the day before, but I decided they were the eager kind of nerves and realized I was happy to catch up with certain people. We thumbed through my senior annual again Friday night, and I identified who belonged to what clique.
I bought new running shoes Saturday morning and got the exact same model despite my misgivings. My previous pair of Saucony's developed a leak in the heel supports. I could feel the difference as soon as I put on the new pair, and they felt so good, I bought them before I could change my mind.
We managed to pack up the baby and leave early that afternoon. This never happens. We got to My Mom's house on time, unloading a heap of baby supplies and walking through each piece of equipment. I didn't doubt her ability to improvise or fall back on her habits with me, but the supplies are newfangled. They are high-tech compared to what I used as a baby. His colic cranked up after a feeding, and we all tried different soothing techniques. We rolled him through the neighborhood before I picked up dinner, and we inhaled it before leaving for the hotel. Your Sister is hollowed her inability to comfort him, and he was still roaring when we drove away. I try to assure her and remind her we were told not to despair when he has a crying fit. The hospital made us watch a video about handling crying and colic before we took him home, and the message was clear: steel yourself and breathe.
We checked into the brand-new hotel in my hometown and changed into what we guessed was "business casual." I wore a sweater over a button-up, and I could only do this because of massive air-conditioning machines. The town was an oven even before all the development.
It was a smaller party than her reunion, and that was expected. It was quickly pointed out to me that the majority of the attendees were women. There were not many male alumni. My reunion did improve on hers in one respect: the ID tags were distinct in shape and design for alums and their spouses. Smart. The first person I saw was a lady I've known since second grade. She pointed out others we knew just as long (including one current state senator), and the conversations were happy and eager. Virtually everyone cheered that they finally got to meet The Countess. She was more popular than I, and that's fine.
I huddled mostly with two alums, one I was very close to after high school. She was also in the senior drama class, and she brought a scrapbook of photos from that class. We traded stories and asked about people we lost contact with. I met her husband, and they both seem ridiculously happy. Another gal flew in from Alaska for the reunion. She looked fabulous.
A reunion photo was arranged, and I was shocked when our class's homecoming queen approached me to catch up. We were in vastly different social circles, and I assumed my profile was too low to register with most folks. There were some people who wooshed by as I tried to make eye contact, and that's not surprising. The remnants of the cliques were apparent. Our small group watched the small dance floor contingent before saying goodbye. It was good. It's nice to be remembered.
We retired to our room around 11, and I fetched the sidekick from Mom. He had fallen asleep not long after we left. I snacked in the hotel room before we called it a night. The baby slept between us in a portable framed bed of his own, and he stayed out the whole night. I can never sleep in hotel rooms, regardless of the roommates and the hotel surroundings. It's an annoying quirk.
We check out at noon and ran into some alums I hadn't spoken with the night before. We had our kids in tow and cooed over the children. We gassed up, bought a bag of snacks, and drove home. Sunday was all about laundry and unpacking, and very little else got done.
Picture of the Day
There's a lot of stuff up there.