This Journey

Thoughts, rants, prayers, sermons I'll never give and other stuff gathered as I make my way through this life.

Big Hair 25 years later

Note: I’ve been procrastinating writing. Writing my resume, writing for my job, writing entries for this blog. Energy is at a minimum right now. Partly because of the funk I’m in and partly because the weather (more than a week of grey and rain and cold) hasn’t helped. I’m sitting down this afternoon to Just Do It. But I’m going to back-date these until I catch up. Given the mood I’m in they’ll be a bit cursory. Perhaps a high-level recap of the events without much analysis or reflection. It’s all I can manage.

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Today,  October 2 (wink, wink) was my 25th College Reunion.

I played hookey from Evil Corporate Job in order to attend some of the festivities planned for the day. Primarily, the morning convocation where one of my roommates (and one of my bridesmaids) was going to be honored with a Distinguished Alumni Award.

Here (if I can get it scanned) is my 1984 ID picture they had printed on my name tag: NFH1984

Nice huh? Everyone had that hair. Well, except for the ones who had mullets. Men and women. It was 1984 for crying out loud.

My other roommate (and maid 0f honor) WHB also had her big-hair picture on her tag too. We laughed about it until we realized that TID did NOT have her 1984 picture on her name tag. Soberly, I announced that it must be because “She is distinguished, and we are clearly NOT.”

And then we laughed some more.

The class of 1984 was poorly represented at the luncheon but that meant that WHB and I could join TID at her table and catch up on each other’s lives at least a little bit. TID lives half the year in teaching in Norway and the summers she spends running a norweigan language camp (which if I put the name of the camp this post would get lots of hits and well, then my annonymity is a bit more  blown.)

Anyway. We all agreed that it’s a shame we don’t keep in touch more, etc, etc. A bit of a plan was hatched for the holidays. We’ll see.

I had to return to Evil Corporate Job for a couple of hours and then had to stop at the house to feed Libby the Wonder Poodle and pick up my wallet (which I had left on the kitchen counter when I switched purses.) By the time I hit the house I had a blazing headache and sinus ache. I was very conflicted about whether I should even go to the dinner. TID had left after lunch to head back for Norway and I didn’t have a real good idea of who else would be attending. But I sat with an ice-pack on the back of my neck for 20 minutes and gave myself a pep-talk ala Roy Scheider as Joe Gideon/Bob Fosse “It’s showtime, folks!” and hauled my butt out the car.

I got there with just enough time for a little mingling before dinner and lots of good conversation during the meal. We filled a single table for the class of 1984. And we mocked (only a little) the beanie wearing class of 1959 (50 year reunion) (Gosh! Only 1959?!?! They looked so old!)

After the official dinner, we adjorned to Tracy’s Saloon. This was one of a couple of neighborhood bars that we frequented as students. Now, you have to remember that in 1984, legal drinking age was 19, which I turned the fall of my freshman year. So we knew this place. And they knew us. Scheduled their drink specials around class schedules and Wednesday evening eucharist. Just saying.

Around 9:00 p.m. G joined us. It was a raucus good time. G & I left around 11:00p.m. Some stayed until closing.

There are few more people on my FB friends list because of this little event. It was good to reconnect with these smart, confident, amazing women – and PB too (the one guy from our group who showed up.)

When it came down to the tally, it was my circle of people who showed up. X would have been riding my coat-tails again as none of the sports people or business class people attended.

And despite the fact that I have gained back the 25 pounds I lost last year (curse you sedentary desk job for Evil Corporate America!) and I didn’t have “just the right outfit” or anything like that, I had a great time. It was about connecting, about sharing stories and not once did what you did or wore or looked like matter.

So, there you go.

Author: Not Fainthearted

A paradox wrapped in an enigma playing the accordion. I'm a sinner-saint, child of God working at the cross-roads of church and world. A Deaconess called to connect people living near the center with people on the edge and to help your life sing (literally and figuratively) while doing it. People don't always get the deaconess part. Could be the swearing, the corporate job, or the wine.

3 Comments

  1. Your post made me sad – sad for me that is. Because I am still at the place where I pretend me and my college friends are still close. I still would consider a few of them my “best friends” and yet I haven’t talked to them in 6 months. Most of them still hang together, but the job and now living in a different country have always kept me in the on the edge of very large circle. Soon I will have to face the fact that we have changed, that I love them all dearly and we will be connected but never in the same way.

    Your post made me happy – happy for you! That you were able to see some friends, catch up, and be yourself without being judged. Hippo Birdies a day early.

    *HUGS*

  2. “and not once did what you did or wore or looked like matter.”

    Powerful. I love those kind of events.