Decades

I just got the invitation to my 10-year reunion. It's no secret that I hated high school, like the majority of my friends did. True, I didn't get beat up or thrown in a trash can on a daily basis like certain Hollywood films suggest, but it was still a completely awful period of time, and I don't trust anybody who experienced it otherwise.

I skipped the graduation ceremony, electing instead to move to my college town as soon as I possibly could. I left town two or three days before any celebratory activities even took place. My mother swore I'd regret this decision, but I haven't regretted it for a second. Nothing makes my skin crawl more than the idea of someone reading (and likely mispronouncing) my name as I walk across a stage and collect a piece of paper for "accomplishing" something that doesn't even require basic literacy skills, alongside my peers that I hated, with the high school band playing Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" all the while. No thank you.

With all that said, though, I am unbelievably excited about this reunion. I'm sure I should be mature enough just to be satisfied with my many accomplishments without having to rub anyone's nose in them, but that's not who I am. I'm damn proud of everything I've done since graduating. Not to belabor the point, but I've come mighty far for somebody whose guidance counselor swore would never even be accepted to a Cal State school without at least some extracurricular activities on my transcript. The counselor may have said something about me needing an "attitude adjustment" as well.

Attitude adjustment or not, I've done quite a bit in the past decade. Beware the self-aggrandizement that follows. Some of the highlights of my last 10 years include:

Graduating from a U.C. school two weeks shy of my 21st birthday
Living in Manhattan
Moving to Portland
Playing four seasons of roller derby
Attending two sessions of Ladies Rock Camp
Singing and playing guitar onstage at Satyricon
Co-authoring the highest-grossing independent publication ever sold at Powell's
Being a contributing author to a nationally-published comic book
Traveling to Sweden, Denmark, and Japan
Buying a house in the middle of a recession
Marrying Bobby, who tolerates my occasional (ok, frequent) self-aggrandizement

So when people look at me like I'm crazy for being unnaturally excited about this reunion, I'm a little surprised. Like a modern Janis Joplin, I always said I'd come back some day and bask in my success. The funny thing is, of course, we've all mellowed in these past several years. I'm quite chummy with many of my former classmates, and don't particularly feel like I've got something to prove by attending this reunion. Sure, there are quite a few people I still dislike immensely probably won't talk to, but for the most part I'm cool with everybody. Grudging maturity aside, though, it's gonna feel pretty fantastic to strut into that reunion with all of these accomplishments under my belt. I know it's not polite to gloat and I probably sound like a bit of a jerk right now, but Merry Christmas to me.