Crashed a wedding?  Check.  (At the Omni Hotel in Jacksonville.)

Crashed a class reunion?  Check.  (Awww, DB.)

I avoided my 10-year class reunion – and I have no regrets.  I didn’t want to a) pay $100 to recreate prom but with an open bar, and b) go through the hum-drum of name dropping all the activities I’ve been up to in the last 10 years.  Seriously.  Why are we surprised when someone has 2 kids at 28?  Or has become a lawyer, or a fireman?  Or if a person has moved to a particular state?  Just because they were a cheerleader doesn’t mean we should be surprised that they’re not still cheerleading.  

Anywho, I think crashing someone else’s class reunion is a better deal.  Nobody knows you.  You can bullsh*t all you want.  You can be a doctor or rock star, or struggling artist or surfer.  Whatever.  Of course, the people at the reunion I crashed knew me…sort of.  I went to my bro/sis’ Class of 89′ DBHS reunion, so all their friends knew me.  It was fun/ny to see their reaction as they probably remembered me something a la below (funny how that same haircut is quite en vogue now, huh!?).  Yes, I’ve grown about 3 feet since you last saw me.  

So, the class-reunion-that-wasn’t-my-own-class-reunion was fun.  For one, I got to see CK2 who was in town from Portland, OR, and that’s always a good thing 😉  And, I didn’t have to delve more than 3″ into myself the whole night meaning I could stick to my drink and random discussions about random things.  I listened to everyone talk about their jobs and kids and significant others, and how much they loved/hated each one a little bit.  I got to see a lot of my brothers’ friends that I hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

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