Reunion

OOOh are my eyes deceiving me??? Does the weather report on New York 1 depict today, saturday, sunday, and well into next week with not only a big ol' sun (with no clouds) but also the number 8 as the first digit in the temperature forecast?? Really??? No more 38, 48, 28 degree highs??? Really??? Ohhhhh yes, oh yes, oh yes!! Gorgeous weather is my lovah and as I make plans to be out in this gorgeous weather, my calendar with 4 simple words, scratches the needle across the record and puts an end to my warm weather hi-jinx. High School Reunion Weekend. Ugh!

Its not like I didn't know the reunion was this weekend. I'm on my school's planning committee. To those who know me that is shocking in and of itself. I went to a small elite, all girls school on the upper east side of Manhattan where Central Park was the landscape for Gym and Fitness Classes, and Museum Mile was my Art History textbook. My feelings about high school are mixed. On one hand, how many people can say that their Spanish teacher was from Spain or that a famous Hollywood actor came and spoke to her class right before he won an Oscar for his role in a movie with Denzel Washington about the social dynamics of such a powerful film? On the other hand, those were some of the most contentious years of my life. I'm pretty sure we all had our teen angst but existing in such a small environment under a social microscope was exhausting. When asked for the African American point of view I always erred on the side of militant. What the hell did I know? I was 14. I barely had my own point of view. Then having to always explain, where I went to high school in the neighborhood because no one knew my uniform (for the non- New Yorkers who read this blog: there are a billion catholic schools here, each with their own distinctive uniform. if you saw a girl in a navy blue skirt you knew she went to one school, if you saw a bunch of girls in burgundy skirt, you knew they went to another. Since my school was so small, no one from my neighborhood knew the uniform. Continue). I couldn't wait for college. I lived for college from 10th grade - like actually planning when I could finally graduate. It wasn't until years later that I fully appreciated the lessons (both good and not so good) I learned for my 4 year stint in a world I otherwise would have had no exposure to.

So I go back this weekend. Once again to smile and giggle and wear the mask I first created in those marbled walled classrooms. Then I will remove the mask, and bask in the glory of the sun.