Sunday, August 10, 2008

I hadn't even committed to going until Thursday.

And THEN I only said yes because Terrance had booked a room at the Inn at the Long Trail.

The dance between us started months ago. Terrance read - aloud - that my 20th high school reunion was announced in the local Vermont paper. I pretended not to hear him.

"Do you want to go?", he inquired from the doorway.

"Mmmmhmmmm", I cryptically replied. This was followed by my hunching down and doing my best "flounder in the sand" impression.

A few weeks later, he tried again.

"Do you want to? Your reunion? You want to go?"


Oh, my wily spouse. He is wise in my avoidance ways.

He is also wise in the knowledge that my bravado is often just that. Bravado. I talk an excellent game and can also follow through with said game if pushed....but would usually prefer not to. I, like Bartelby the Scribner, would simply prefer not to.

I like to think that I could kick the door in to dulcet strains of "The Final Countdown" and do a dance in the middle of the party, pointing at various people and yelling "I RULE!"....but I wouldn't.

In fact, as late as Friday night I was hedging my bets.

"We don't Have to go if you are too tired - or don't really want to make the drive...", I offered over dinner. "I mean - I am not even sure if anyone I know will be there...and I haven't paid for the tickets yet, so really there is no pressing need..."

He was not swayed. "I think you should go - it only happens once, Dawn. A 20 year reunion."

This is how I found myself bundled into the car on Saturday morning, being driven to Vermont. 20 years of my fears and insecurities looming on the horizon. Stepping back into the skin of the 18 year old Dawn to face her peers.

6 Baleful Regards:

kate said...

So, how did it go????

Mitzi Green said...

gah, i'd rather eat broken glass. at least i have another 2 years to put off the misery.

MarciaAnn said...

I bet you were pleasantly surprised and at the same time you could have put bets on what happened. I've been to every one of my HS reunions - for some odd reason our class has one every 5 years. It think it was at the 20that I actually realized I wasn't the ugly girl who graduated in 1984, but a grown, quasi-attractive woman who had been dealt a very large hand of reality early on, survived it and could still hold my head high and hold my own among the jocks, cheerleaders, academics and snobs. It didn't hurt that many of the so-called pretty folk were wearing a lot less hair on their heads, a lot more hair on their faces and there were quite a few with much added weight to their middle.

That being said, my 25th HS Reunion is next summer, time for me to start trimming my own added mid-section weight!

Hope you enjoyed yourself!

MOCK! said...

You are braver than I, Bartleby...

Sorry I bailed on you.

And it CAN'T be a coincidence that the last 4 letters of my verification are WUSS!!!

Fraulein N said...

And?! Don't leave us hanging, woman!

kristin said...

I've always surreptitiously read your TWC, but I'm loving reading this blog - more border stories about Terrance, please - too funny! :-)

◄Design by Pocket