Saturday night was my 10-year high school reunion (more specifically the Anderson High School reunion class of 1994 from Austin, which I say only for Google’s reference, even if it dates me). As recent as two months ago I had considered not attending, but I ended up having a really good time, more than I ever thought I would. It was great to see everyone.
I took some pictures. Only a handful came out, so my apologies to everyone who will only remain a blurry image in my copy of iPhoto. Perhaps that’s for the best. But I’ve posted the better ones here with brief annotations for anyone who was at the event. Most of the time I forgot I had the camera with me. (Whoops.)
Luckily I didn’t show up alone, so the nervousness and “I don’t belong here” feeling that I was bracing for was diminished. Afterwards, though, came a sort of melancholy that I did not expect, a vague emotional conflict between the few folks I’ll see again and the larger number that I probably won’t. Five minutes of conversation over drinks is not an adequate way to catch up on 10 years. Truthfully, I share more in common with some of them now than I do the people I see on a more regular basis. All Sunday I found myself thinking about it, and just sort of marveling at how our lives diverge and then criss-cross again, and how that same web is played out on a larger scale for everyone we meet.