Miss Rachel

This weekend there was a three-day-long reunion and centennial celebration at the school I graduated from in 1985. Since I had class on Saturday, I decided to attend the Friday festivities only. There was a performance of music, drama and dance, a cocktail party, dinner and of course, lots of talking and laughing with my friends.

I dressed in my favorite black dress and wore red lipstick, and I looked pretty darn fabulous if I do say so myself.

Highlights of the evening included talking to an art teacher who I took a fabric design class with my senior year. I told her how much I loved the class and that I still have some of the fabric I made. (I want to get one framed so I can put it on the wall.) I also had a nice chat with the art history teacher and told her how I learned so much in her class, and how it truly affected how I look at art. I also reminded her of the time me and a friend spilled the entire carousel of slides on the floor one night when we were up studying. We were so flustered, we didn’t try to put the slides back in, but we left a note apologizing and then took off.

Then there was my favorite English teacher. He was the king of inappropriate comments, and when I mentioned his being inappropriate, he dismissed me, saying “Please don’t say that. You mean naughty.” Here’s a classic remark, regarding the central vacuum system in the school: it’s a free abortion service!” Ha! He could never get away with that in a public school. The man makes me laugh.

Since it was my class’s twenty fifth reunion, a dinner reservation had been made for us and a shuttle bus provided, to a nearby restaurant. There were only 8 of us (plus one person’s spouse and a friend of mine from the class of 1984). The thing is I am only close to two of the people (one of them was my roommate senior year), but I was able to talk to everybody about real stuff. I have a very good memory and I shared with some of them about different things I remembered them saying and doing, stuff I certainly couldn’t have talked about back them. For instance, one night this girl tried on a prom dress that had been given to her by a friend from outside the school. I remember seeing her in it (in the dorm) thinking how gorgeous the dress was, and then she started saying how it was “awful” and tacky and that she certainly wasn’t going to wear it. I kept my mouth shut back then, but I was just blabbing up a storm Friday night (helped out by wine). Of course, she didn’t even remember the incident or the dress, but she seemed to find my retelling of the story funny.

I had three glasses of wine which is a LOT for me so after dinner, me and my two close friends went back to the house where one of them was staying and talked for an hour or so. I finally felt sober enough to drive and headed the 35 miles home, and got into a bed at 1:30. Very late night for me.

The best part of the of the event was definitely spending time with my roommate. We talked and laughed so much: about how she used to scare me by telling me stories about witches and stuff, and that the closet in the room next to ours was haunted. (!) About how she was really into food and turning out the light before going to bed one night, she said, “Mmm… scrambled eggs tomorrow morning!” (Already planning for breakfast!) About how she is the only person I know who ever complained that she had fat knees! About how this girl used to visit us in our room and sit on my bed and after she left, my bed would smell (eeewww!). About the time her mother found her pot pipe, and told her it was “a really cute gum dish.” (!) Although my time at the school was one of the unhappiest in my life (mostly due to academic and parental pressure), the friendships I have from that time are why I so value my time there and enjoy going back.

It’s also a beautiful place: