Everyday I Write the Book

Say, “cheese!” Say, “class of 86!” Say, “Don’t you forget about me!”

Remember: I will post again later if you send me updates to share with everyone. Don’t be shy with the pictures and stories. I will still check my reunion email address and pass along your good news. See you in 2011!

Captured Here in My Quotation Marks

I received so many pictures of people who stopped to pose with each other that it made me wonder if that’s all some people had time to do: pause, group, smile, snap. Move to next formation, smile, snap. But I also value the photos of people who are so accustomed to the paparazzi that they don’t even bother to notice them.

You Were Up to Your Old Tricks in Chapters 4, 5, and 6

Did you know that our reunion had extra support from the classes of 85, 87, 88, and 89? I want to thank Sandy, Karla, Chantelle, and Frankie for working the doors on Saturday night so that our own classmates were free to drink so very, very much. No party ever had better looking bouncers, I mean, registrars. I wish I had pictures of all of them, but one of these does have Karla in it. Whatever this dance move, it was not part of the duties we asked her to fulfill, but that’s just Karla: going beyond the call of duty. A special woman indeed.

With My Pen and My Electric Typewriter

Thank you for making this blog such a success! You know I’ve enjoyed writing it and picking on people and posting those Grad Night and Sadie Hawkins pictures (among others). There were days over the last year when nothing made me giggle more than my own compositions, and that might sound a little pathetic, but, hey, entertaining oneself has its merits. But it’s your material that made the blog worth reading, your emails, your photos of your children, your own life updates, and your scans of old pictures from back in the day. Thank you for sending them.

I Want to Dive into Your Ocean

One of my favorite pictures from the entire reunion weekend shows two classmates who have stayed friends for these 20 years, strenthening their friendship, banding together to pick on others. It’s downright touching. I haven’t posted it yet because it’s in the memory book, but everyone deserves to see the color version. The risk I take is the publicity causing Lane to become too full of himself and Caroline to get arrested for that crime she fled in that other southern state. It’s a risk I’m willing to take in their behalf because of the love. Just look at the love.

Let’s Sway While Color Lights Up Your Face

You see, no one told Teri that it’s the left breast where you put the reunion name tag. Almost everybody knows that.

The way Tara is clinging to her purse makes me think she was storing stolen goods.

That night might be the only occasion this calendar year when I wore earrings like a real girl—on both left and right ears!

Such a Woman, You Got Style

I was feeling the love vibes of next year’s class reunion (those cuddly juniors!), so I looked up Meredith’s class photo to compare it with this one of her and Amy. Yep, she’s as lovely as she ever was, perhaps lovelier, albeit with hair less feathery.

And why did it take an anvil to fall on my head for it to occur to me that you might want to check out Northshore’s reunion blog for the class of 87? It’s not like Tiger-Panther intermarrying was against the law.

Heidi, Kim, and Rami are bloggers with spirit and style, so I encourage you to read them after I’m gone. I’m not dying as far as I know, but you know what I mean.

Passion Killer, You’re Too Much

Zeke doesn’t read this blog. It is a hurt I will carry with me FOREVER. He’s a busy man, I know, what with banking and parenting and Spinning. (Did he manage to tell you, too, that he’s a certified instructor?) But I cannot understand the people who did not make this blog a daily visit in their morning web perusal. You cannot tell me that Zeke and others immediately begin work tasks when they arrive at their offices, composing memos or adding up mortgage figures or whatnot. You cannot tell me that they don’t even stop to check the weather forecast, a moment that would easily transition into reading the magical prose written by a former lab partner for two solid years of science instruction. You cannot tell me any of that.

And yet, through the pain, I post the pictures of his precious face as my blogging career approaches retirement. Valerie, Lori, Doug, and Regina might be laughing, but I only grimace and turn my head to hide my tears.