I cannot be prosecuted for saying any of this because I may in fact be lying. So you and you and you too, don't even try.
My twenty-year high school reunion was really fun, but kind of stressful. It's hard to show up as one of the say five unmarried women at a reunion. Everyone is talking about their kids and husbands and most of the gay classmates just stayed away because it was in Colorado Springs. Colorado Springs may be the most gay unfriendly city in The United States.
Suffice it to say, the woman who bullied me all through high school patronizingly asked me if I am okay. I said I was. But I was just floored. So I joined a group of boys smoking pot and got darn good and stoned. Later I found myself staring at a really nicely woven carpet from India at someone's house. There are a lot of things I may not know, but I do know a fine carpet when I see one. I was down on my hands and knees inspecting every single hand sewn fiber.
What made the reunion even more challenging was the single classmate who told me not to be concerned about being single who later got proposed to at the reunion. Man, I just sucked down some more pot.
I also enjoyed all the people telling me I looked about the same as I did in high school. I guess that was because of my weight. I have not gained that much weight. That helps. I had to keep looking at name tags and one person chastised me for doing so. Well excuse me for not knowing who you were about one hundred and fifty pounds later. More pot.
There was a slide show. There were quite a few pictures of me playing varsity tennis and running and stuff. This brought a round a loud applause that kind of shocked me, but I was also stoned. I guess I am some sort of athletic hero. Or not. I don't know.
The men I hung around were discussing which women had had plastic surgery. Never mind our class produced some female attorneys and doctors, all the men cared about was the probability of plastic surgery. More pot. Very high. High as a kite and not giving a shit either.
Then it was over. I left my sweater at my cousin's house which somehow got back to her eventually. I survived. I made it back to Washington and I think one reunion is enough for me for a lifetime. I really do like handwoven carpets though. Always will. Stoned or not. -Alison Whiteman