What goes around.

Last Saturday was my 10-year high school reunion. It was organized by the Class of 1996 reunion committee, and took place at The Grand Central in Lincoln Park. I was listed as a "missing" classmate.

Where was I? At the same time the reunion was happening, I was in the North suburbs, watching my friend Coleen get married. If I wasn't at the wedding, I'm not sure if I would have gotten dressed up to see my former classmates. Part of me was replaying Romy & Michele's High School Reunion in my head (which by the way, was an entertaining movie). While I was neither Romy nor Michele in high school, it was still a slightly angsty time in my young life. There were a few notable "goods" then: I met my best friend Alison, developed a strong interest in social sciences and double majored in history/poli-sci at college, and the studly Humanities teacher who inspired a newfound respect for learning about ancient civilizations and made time fly by in class. The rest of it--teenage hormones, boy/girl drama, social confusion/embarassment, etc. etc--that stuff I could do without.

Lucky for me Alison decided to take it upon herself to drop in on the party and give me the details afterwards. I'm surprised to say that I was actually interested to hear how some people turned out.

The good news is: karma is a bitch. The first thing she pointed out and repeated several times is that the girls who were the "Queen Bees" of our class were no longer all that. Apparently, the last decade was not kind to some of their waistlines, fashion sense, and/or general abilities to groom themselves properly. Of all the women that attended, 5 or 6 looked like they were doing well. This was a huge victory for Alison and the rest of us who were traumatized by the perfectly hairsprayed fluffy hair, good lip gloss, and just-right outfits. These were also the girls that drank on weekends, were maybe a little fast (to their advantage) and had cute boys admiring them. We never felt like we could measure up to them. But here they are, looking less than perfect, looking you up and down, and some begrudingly telling you that you look fabulous. Because you do.

Another piece of good news: A lot of guys in high school were late bloomers. Those boys who were shy, slightly dorky, geeks, clumsy, whatever...they turned out handsome, sucessful, with great personalities. The potential for doing bigger things and the personality was there in each of them, but it took a little longer for them to grow into it. For the better, I think. It's like aging a fine wine. Maybe it cause a little grief back then, but like for the girls, things finally evened out for them, and now they are on par if not above the people they admired. And that is kind of nice.

Finally we get to the good-looking ones. Alison ran into her big crush (one of the good looking ones) who tormented her mercilessly for 4 years. It was pointed out to him that he didn't make her life easy in their mutual classes, and he admitted that was true but it was because he had a crush on her! The two spent the rest of the evening chatting, and were joined by his fellow good-looking friends of high school. Said friends couldn't stop fawning over her, telling her how wonderful she looked, and how different she was from back then. This I find the most ironic. Clearlly Alison has evolved from high school and blossomed into the wonderful person she was meant to be, and these guys who we secretly crushed on from afar years and years ago stayed the same. Not more interesting, more successful, and certainly not any less of any of it. But they finally really see and can't stop hitting on the girl they never noticed or wouldn't consider spending time talking to 10 years ago. Vindication!

This reunion got me thinking alot about who I am and how I got here. There were plenty of good moments to remember, coupled with some stinging ones as well. Both are needed to build character, as people like to say. It's a little scary how high school can affect your thinking and how the mentality and the cliques that build carry over into real life. By real life I mean one that is outside of a fish bowl such as high school, and sometimes even college. We get so caught up in the ethos of those particular systems because we're supposed to have this collective experience, and then what? What happens after you leave the pond?

Which begs the question: Do we ever really grow out of who we are then? I'd like to think so, but you can identify types of people everywhere you go, even in your workplace. At one of my former jobs, our office was run kind of like a mini-high school or fraternity. You could visualize who was the Big Man on Campus, the Popular Girl, the Social Director, the Drama geek...which can be a whole other post altogether.

Sometimes I wish I could do things over again with some knowledge of what I know now; there are so many things I'd do differently. But I can't, so I'm just going to have to save up the wise words for my children one day.