So I went to my 30th highschool reunion, sportsfans. I wasn't exactly a social butterfly in school (like that surprises you?) but I did know a bunch of folks. We were a class of over 800, and only 150 people could attend - what were the odds I'd know any of the ones who turned up?
Well, as luck would have it, there were a few I knew. And it was great to see them again. Although my first thought on entering the reception at the hotel was, who are these old people? This is my demographic? Crap!! And I talked to some of the girls (women?) who were the popular ones in school. Not the ones I talked to then. But 30 years gets one past that highschool clique-crud. And I discovered that most of them are genuine, a-grade flakes. Nutty as a peanut brittle.
I stayed until I couldn't stand the noise and then went back to the condo and my sweetie, where we enjoyed a peaceful time in the city with wine, music, and the lights of False Creek outside.
I know I've misspelled acquaintence. I've asked for editing from two people I trust. I still think it's wrong. It does beat tonight's local Daily Snooze, however, which has an article which mentions "the Martial Plan" - that's Marshall, proof-reader - and "Cannon Rushbrook" - which would be a surprise to the other members of his church. We're fighting a losing battle, fellow teachers of English.
Saw a good movie tonight with the local Arts Council - Amal. Rent it, watch it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment