High School Reunion

Went for a drink with my friend E1 at the Box Bar in Plymouth . . . it was high school reunion night. Of course, the Box Bar is high school reunion central on any given night, but the night before a holiday is just jammed packed with fun and people you didn't bother to keep in touch with.

As an aside, I have this neurotic twitch that causes me to actually say "hello" to people I haven't seen in years, which usually causes the awkward and untruthful "we should get together . . . call me sometime" conversation when we all know that no one is going to call anyone, ever. If we had wanted to stay in touch, we would be all going together to the Box Bar . . . not just running into each other. This twitch combined with the fact that I remember every face and name makes me dangerous. Very dangerous. I don't know why E1 chooses to hang out with me.

When we walked in the door, I waved casually to Mike Moore. I haven't seen Mike in ten years but I'm waving at him like I saw him yesterday, cause I'm an idiot. I'm sure this causes Mike to think "who is that idiot waving at me?" because he doesn't know who I am. It's been ten years for God's sake.

In a moment of growth on my part, I don't go over to say "hello" nor do I go anywhere near his table for the rest of the night. But the biggest moment of grown up Emily . . . I walked out of the bar, saw a pseudo-ex-boyfriend and did not say ANYTHING. No casual "Oh. Hi Mark." No wave. No acknowledgement whatsoever. Mark is one of those people from my past that gave me just enough attention for me to be like a puppy around him but then treated me like crap most of the time, which made me even more like a puppy -- pleaselikemepleaselikemePLEASE! So I just looked him straight in the face and thought, "oh, that's Mark" and then kept walking.

I did say to E1 "I think that was Mark T*&h" loud enough for him to hear and turn his head to make sure it was him . . . so I'm still a neurotic idiot, but not as much as before when I would have babbled at him. I then continued, "I would say hello to him if he wasn't such a dick . . . " which I may or may not have said loud enough for him to hear. But hell, it's true. Sorry, Mark, I'm sure you are nice to other people but you weren't very nice to me most of the time.

So it's nice to be home for Christmas and even nicer not to acknowledge parts of your past. I don't know why my high school bothers to have reunions when you can just go to the Box on a Friday night.