The long-awaited reunion

I was planning the trip to my high school reunion before I'd even graduated. Ten years ago today, as I sharpied another black X on the calendar on the fridge, marking my impending departure from Palm Springs, I fancied myself a modern-day Janis Joplin. I idly fantasized about waltzing into my reunion as a nationally-published author with impeccable style and an attractive gentleman on my arm. As luck (and a lot of hard work) would have it, that's what I did, but without a hint of malice.

Though I didn't have the worst high school experience by any means, I spent quite a lot of time feeling like the only whatever-I-was in the room. What carried me through those days was the knowledge that some day I'd move out of that stifling valley and never come back. With all that said, I was the third person to purchase a ticket for this event, and was excited about it from the get-go. What was I excited about? Validation? Vindication? Just simply seeing the people with whom I'd spent my formative years, all crammed into a single room one more time? Really, it was the latter.

With a decade to think about it, I've come to the conclusion that I spent my teenage years surrounded by wonderful people, many of whom I greet with enthusiastic hugs and smiles whenever we see each other. We keep in contact, and though many of us have scattered throughout California and beyond, we have a unique shared history that doesn't change. Try as I might to deny it, I will always be a desert rat at heart.

Late Friday night, Bobby and I boarded a plane in Portland. We were scheduled to meet Alex in Ontario around 11:15, and the three of us would rent a car for the journey to Palm Springs. However, the plane was delayed by quite a bit, and we didn't land until midnight. I called the rental car place in a panic, and they said they'd be open for another half hour. To complicate matters, though, the carry-on I'd been forced to gate-check due to the plane's small size was not to greet me when I exited. Instead, it was sent to baggage claim. I directed Bobby and Alex to the rental car place while I waited for my bag, which contained my meticulously chosen reunion dress. It finally arrived, and I caught the next shuttle to reunite with my group. At nearly 1:00 a.m., we were finally zooming down I-10 to the desert. I was at the wheel, enjoying the high speed limit and aggressive drivers, and Alex was my co-pilot. Bobby sat in back and shot photos. The road looked like this:



But because we were so tired, it felt like this:



Within an hour, we were pulling into my parents' driveway in Palm Springs. Waiting for me and Alex were two unturkey sandwiches from Nature's Rx. We've both been ordering these delicious sandwiches since becoming vegetarians in high school, and no trip to Palm Springs is complete without them. In what has become a late arrival tradition, we grabbed some towels and set up a floor picnic in the guest room.



After being awake for 23 hours, I was awfully tired.



Though we were scheduled to meet Sarah and Jason for breakfast the next morning, none of us were up for it. Instead, we went outside to soak in the desert sun.



I tried (in vain) to combat the Oregon glow I've developed since moving here:



And to protect my freshly-colored hair from the pair of six-year-olds who were brandishing water guns at me:



We had a nice dinner with Bobby's parents, who were also in town, and sang happy birthday to my dad a couple of days early. We got a hula hoop lesson from the nextdoor twins, who can hula hoop indefinitely while playing penny whistles. Alex and I, however, were not so good.



With dinner over, it was time to get ready. We posed for the obligatory photos:



and were on our way! We had my parents drop us off at the Riviera due to lack of parking (and for drinking purposes), and wandered inside. As much as I wanted to do right by my inner teenager, all that angst melted away when I stepped into the room. I was greeted warmly by the President and Vice President of our class, the latter of whom stretched far across the table to give me a giant hug. Later on, another classmate, who'd also been among the popular crowd, pulled me aside to tell me he was in awe of me. I'm not reporting these facts out of arrogance, but as evidence to the way things change. My freshman English teacher was in attendance, and told me she'd hung onto the zines I'd made in high school. This was becoming quite an evening.

I chatted briefly with the local people who are in town whenever I visit, and tried to have a conversation with everyone I could find. I learned of people's new engagements and interesting travels. I fielded many questions about the accuracy of Portlandia once people learned about where I live (yes, that show is accurate), and invited damn near everybody to visit me here. Unfortunately, the outdoor venue didn't help my nasty allergies, and my eyes were tearing up something fierce. A townie in the adjacent bar tried to pick me up when I went in search of napkins by asking if I was married. When I replied that I was, he said, "that's a shame, because you're really hot." The nerve of some people! Also it was dark.

Later on, the food table was invaded by gatecrashers, who President Maureen was trying to shoo away. I came to offer my assistance, and together we got them to leave. Maureen and I took a celebratory photo.



That's one of only three photos I took the entire night. Guess I was having too good a time to bother with my camera. Either that or I forgot it was in my purse. The other two are as follows:

Me and Maureen with Jon Chuan


Erin, Tera, me, Sarah, and Sharlene


Too soon, the party ended. Bartenders shoved bar carts through the remaining crowd, and people formulated afterparty plans. Some folks went to Denny's, others kept the party going at nearby Toucan's. Though I would have loved to visit the latter, my feet could take no more of those fierce shoes I was wearing. Plus, Ashleigh and James had offered us a ride, and they were ready to go. In true Palm Springs tradition, we capped off the night at Del Taco, where the five of us got food for a total of $17. Back at my parents' house, it was time for floor picnic round two:







I had a rough time sleeping due to horrendous allergies, which were making me feel like I'd snorted sand. Not wanting to waste my time, though, I was up bright and early for breakfast with Bobby, Alex, Ashleigh, James, Sarah, and Jason. We went to Cheeky's on a recommendation from Kelly, whose opinion I trust since she lives here in Breakfastlandia.



We paused for some photos before parting ways:





and returned to my parents' house for a few more hours of sun. Finally, it was time to go home to our respective cities. Alex left about an hour before us, and then it was our turn. We had two final photos and departed for Ontario.





After a brief detour to In-n-Out for a last taste of California, back to rainy Portland we went. Though the sun was nice, it's always good to be home.