Sorry to be gone for a bit. I went back to Texas for my 20 year high school reunion and oh my goodness did I have fun. I went to high school in San Antonio and the reunion was held downtown, near the Riverwalk. Since our high school was located in a San Antonio suburb, we really didn't make it downtown very much except for special occasions. And so the Riverwalk always seemed like a big deal to us. So grownup or--to use my high-school speak--like, sooo bad, y'all. Remember when bad meant good? Yea, well, it was like that. Suddenly we were the rowdy grownups in the bars down at the Riverwalk and it was indeed pretty bad and yet really good.
My life in Texas seems so odd to me now. Yes of course because I was so young and everyone called me 'Sandy' and football games ruled my social life but also because, for me at least, Texas is not just a place where you live. It's a bigger, Deep in the Heart (clap, clap, clap) kind of lifestyle. You simply can't avoid doing certain Texas things, even if you're only there for a blip on your life's radar. I can't explain it very well, sorry, because truthfully I don't exactly know what that means--but maybe you do if you've lived it too. Maybe you got mums the size of your head for Homecoming and know what Ropers are. Maybe you two-stepped at the Bluebonnet even if you listened to Erasure.
Things were just done differently there. Most of my East coast friends cannot believe how much we dressed up as high-school students in Texas. If you were to flip through my yearbook, you could easily assume that there was some sort of daily, mandatory attendance to a cotillion or something. We're talking dresses, heels, Laura Ashley up the wazoo...the works--just to go to class. So when shopping for a "reunion" dress, I was a little conflicted--do I try to guess what my Texas self would wear? Or do I go all East Coast Banana Republic minimal, the look I've sported as a guest to 21--yes, I counted--weddings. In the end, I took a good friend with me and slapped the racks looking for something, anything, I felt pretty in. I figured pretty always works.
The weekend was another girls-only trip which was a pretty big shock to my system as it was a mere two weeks after my last girls trip. Before these two, I had gone on exactly zero such trips since having children. So the rapid-fire timing of these two left me feeling a bit guilty (in that I might be spending too much time away from my family) but mostly (sorry honey), they tapped a real yearning for more, more, more. More time to enjoy with close girlfriends to sit and chat and eat and shop and awake naturally rather than by a child's need or cry. And, of course, it allowed us to talk nonstop about our children's needs and cries. This particular trip was shared with my friend Kristin. It was her reunion too as we've been best friends since eighth grade, ever since I moved two doors down from her house. The kicker is she also made the trek up North and East during college and now lives only 30 minutes away from me. We roomed together in college, were each other's maids of honor and have a running joke that if we could just get our four-year-olds to marry we could be related for real. We don't think we surprised anyone by coming together.
The reunion was something I'm so glad I didn't miss. I left San Antonio after a brilliant weekend reconnecting with friends who I did so many firsts with--school dances, makeup, rock concerts, consuming crushes, driving tests, sneaking out, college admissions, daydreams about how our lives would end up.... So to go back and see them in the flesh--not just by lurking on Facebook--and hear about their lives and see them with their babies on their hips was completely and utterly surreal. It was as if we were at a sleepover, playing with a cootie catcher asking "how many kids will I have", then blinked, and suddenly, here we were.
I know this entry isn't about crafts or cooking or anything else this blog is typically about, but I wanted to take a second to jot a few thoughts down to memorialize it. I think I'll hit print, sign it "LYLAS, Sandy", fold it up into a nice, tight note with a "pull me" tab, and pass it to Kris. I also hope it encourages some of you to get back in touch with a long lost friend, or two, or, in my case, a solid three dozen. If they were important in your life at some point then there was a reason. And it might just surprise you to find out how well they still fit there.