I know there’s a stereotype that anyone who’s older than 25 and still looks back on high school fondly is a loser. But I don’t care–high school days, especially the final year, was one long stretch of carefree fun for me. It was a time when everything I loved doing hit a new level of high, or in some cases, peaked, at once. It was a time when I took my inside joke-cracking, theory/nickname-coining skill to a new level, it was a time when every mini-clique and groups I’ve hung out with in the first three years finally geled and morphed into a giant one, it was a time when I finally talked to chicks…on AOL. It was a time when professional wrestling–a hobby that I loved but wasn’t accepted on a mainstream level at the beginning of high school–became mainstream popular (thanks to Steve Austin, The Rock, and the nWo) to a point that me and two other known-wrestling-fans (everyone watched it actually, but no one openly admitted it to except for us three at the time) became the go-to guys for everyone with questions and invites.
To this day, I keep in touch with the core group of high school friends, and whenever I get back to LA, it’s like a mini reunion of sorts. My facebook wall today still consist mainly of posts by them, and despite being in Hong Kong for three years now, 70% of my deepest and most serious talks are still done over the net, with that same group (American sense of humor tend fly over the heads of local HKers and Brits here).
With that said, this weekend is my ten year high school reunion, a day I’ve anticipated since, oh, 2003 or so. I won’t be attending, due to a combination of reasons. And I think as the date approaches, I’m beginning to regret.
Yes, I still keep in close touch with the core group of friends, but there are lots of acquaintances and kinda-friends-I-like-enough-to-have-conversations-with-but-not-enough-to-hang-out-with-regularly that I would like to see.
And more importantly, being in a proper setting with the guys allows us to openly reminisce (when it wasn’t all business) without fear of that stereotype. And, just for old time’s sake, we’d probably head to a cafe later for some iced lemon tea.