Received this way-too upbeat email the other day:
Hello CHS c/o 1987!
20 years, man...20 years! It's time to reminisce about days gone by at 'ole CHS.
Plans are underway for a 20th Reunion you will not want to miss!!! Dates are set, locations selected and DJ's ready with 'Hair Band', 'New Wave' and 'Old School Rap' music! The only thing missing is you (and your information!!!!).
Please pass this e-mail on to every Chief in your address book. Then, write back to:
chsreunion1987(at)hotmail(dot)com and provide your name, address, phone number and e-mail address.
This information will be used to send out reunion invitations and reminder notices. Remember, the reunion is about connecting with old friends - no one cares about growing waist lines or thinning hair (we all have those!). Please pass this on to anyone you keep in touch with, if each of us finds 10 classmates we should be able to find most everyone!
Chamberlain High School Class of 1987
20th High School Reunion
Saturday, August 3, 2007
Sheraton Sand Key
Wow. Twenty years since I pretended to graduate.
Funny story.
April, 1987: I dropped out of school. This wasn't a formal decision. I just stopped going. No real reason and, let's be frank, what reason would suffice? I was young and stupid. That'll do.
Wait. Gets better.
Relatives came from as far away as Pennsylvania to watch me walk across the stage. I know. Awkward! So I pretended to sprain my ankle and stayed home instead. Took money and gifts and hauled ass in an attempt to find myself. Instead, for the next six months, I:
- alienated friends.
- disappointed my mother.
- bleached my hair.
- discovered many different ways to use apples.
- learned to play drums.
- registered to vote.
- actually went out on a date. Sort of.
- passed out in an ant pile. Twice.
- learned how to drive a stick shift.
- bought a Subaru Justy. On purpose.
- worked at a video store and memorized John Hughes films
.Finally went to night school and, within a month, earned my diploma. College wasn't too far behind and eventually I became a productive and successful citizen. Sort of.
Ten years ago, Becky and I went to our 10th reunion with my husband.
Showed up to the business casual event looking like Romy or Michelle. Take yer pick.
Got drunk and said awful things about Becky's old boyfriends (all 900 of them). Becky had fun even though she didn't remember a single "Remember when...?" thrown at her by old boyfriends (all 900 of them). Husband pretended not to know us which was okay because he wore suspenders. On purpose.
None of my high school friends even showed up. (Insert appropriate prison joke here.)
Therefore, Becky and I thought long and hard about making the trip back to Florida this summer for our 20th.
Hmmmm...
We would, but we don't want to.