the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

betcherass i went

Many years ago, a friend told me that she went back for her 25th or 30th class reunion, and it was the absolute best. After that much time, nobody cares anymore who was popular and who was not, and they're generally past the pretention of looks. They've had kids, finished college, settled into their career (or lack thereof), and are more than happy to let their hair down and just enjoy themselves.

It's absolutely true.

I missed the 20th reunion because Facebook hadn't really taken off then, and of course no one knew how to find me. I changed my name at 18* and was off five years ago doing something military somewhere that wasn't Nacogdoches.

* My first name is Phylis, and I always preferred Diana--my middle name--so I switched when I left home.

Despite my changed name, Cheryl (an old high school friend) found me pretty quickly on Facebook, and despite her going by the name Duke Dukesta (a play on her hubby's name), I recognized her immediately. Then Kathryn, Claire, and Celia quickly added me, and eventually, Mel. Then the second Mel....

They began to add me into their deliciously snarky emails, so I was simply absorbed back into the group something like a year ago, as though nothing ever happened to separate us.* Then other high school friends and acquaintances began to add me, and thus, I knew about the reunion, which fell (thankfully) at the beginning of my summer vacation.

* I left home. That's all that "happened." And I didn't keep up with anyone from home when I left to join the service at 18. Within a couple of years or so, all home ties had been cut...or had just frayed until they broke and drifted away.

I had no more than gotten out of the car a couple of hundred yards away from the bar they'd reserved for the Early Bird Mixer Friday night when someone jumped out of a car and said, "Phylis! How are you? Do you remember me?"

Wow. This happened all evening, and all the next evening. Everyone knew me on sight. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or disturbed by this, particularly when a couple told me I haven't changed since the fifth grade. I haven't lived in that town since I was 18, have visited about eight times over the years, and have seen precious few of them. I did go to my 10th reunion, by the way, so I'd seen many of these people then, but still...that was 15 years ago. But they knew me.

Considering my eerie ability to charm people and the completely inexplicable talent I have for being memorable, I should have gone into politics.

Friday evening, a man I've known since the third grade - or maybe first? - popped in. Charley Taylor. He has two grown children (one of whom was appointed to drive him back to Lufkin that evening), and has been openly gay for 10 years now. He gave us a ride to our hotel in Lufkin folded into the luggage area of his SUV at something like 3am Saturday morning, then called and picked us up to deliver us back to our car. (And again: thanks so much, Charley. I don't care that we were in the luggage compartment. We got there safe and you spared us a somewhat hefty cab fee - or worse.)

What on earth were we doing staying in Lufkin, you ask? Well. I stupidly waited until a couple of days before we left to make reservations at a hotel for the weekend. Since when was it difficult to find a hotel in Nacogdoches, anyway? It isn't, exactly, unless you want a nice one.

At some point in the last 10 years or so, my standards for personal comfort have risen considerably. It's a side effect of advancing age, I think, (and probably a respectable income), but I've reached the point at which I am not willing to stay in a smoking room, a converted smoking room, a room where the stench has been masked with excessive air/carpet fresheners (just change the carpet and drapes already!), a running toilet, a lumpy mattress, dirty sheets, insects or vermin of any sort (I avoid hotels where the doors open straight to the sidewalk on principle), towels that indicate laundry staff with a smoking problem, or noise.

When you have the long list of unreasonable requirements that I do, and you care enough to read customer reviews until you're satisfied, your list of possible hotels dwindles considerably. It left only three hotels in Nacogdoches proper: the Holiday Inn Express and Suites, the Comfort Inn, and the Super 8 (the last two of which are brand new and thus, still quite nice). All of them were booked for one or more days of my three-day request. So I switched to Lufkin, which is only 20 miles away (less than a commute to work in most cities, frankly).

We selected the Holiday Inn Express and Suites there, and it was excellent (at a good price, as well). I highly recommend it. The room met all my requirements and then some.

Anyway. Charley took us back to Nac the next day, and we went to La Carerra's (used to be Rita's) for lunch. The fajitas as just as great as I remember. We picked up some light reading, then went to the Fredonia where the Saturday evening shindig was, bought a beer, and read our books until almost 7, when the main party started.

Oh. Apparently, my mug isn't in our senior yearbook at all. Daddy was into photography when I graduated, so he shot pics of me himself, and I never took them in to have them added to the yearbook spread. Who knew? They'd printed stickers with our high school pictures on them and our names for us to wear, so mine was from 11th grade.

I snagged a table for all my friends, and we drank and ate and danced. We filled out a sheet of random questions - How far did you travel to come to this event? Who should get the Kojak award? Who needs to wash that grey right outta their hair? etc. I "won" three categories: I got third place for distance traveled, so I don't count that as a win. I got highest military rank achieved, but that's only because John Callahan (now a lieutenant colonel and about to retire) was feeling ill, so I don't count that as a win, either. The one I figured I earned was this: I deserve flowers because....

I wrote, "because flowers, when crushed, produce a rare form of penicillin used to treat gout and if I don't have some - and I mean now - my foot will rot off."

They'd stolen the flowers from the wedding in the room a couple of hours before, incidentally. Nice touch. :)

People say I dance well, but I leave room for the possibility that they are too traumatized to remember how I dance, exactly. Claire and group left to go to her house late, and gave me the address. They were going to give me directions, but I insisted that I can find an address. I forgot that we were talking rural Nacogdoches in the dark.

We left after a while, and managed to find Claire's place in the middle of nowhere, no thanks to GPS (mapquest again saved the day). It was also helpful that there were six cars in the drive and the lights were on, which is a fair indication that the party is here. So we sat around for a couple of hours or more with the ladies and Anita (Celia's big sister) and Jerry Pitts talking. I laughed until my belly ached. It's been years, and it was good.

Indescribable, really. Awesome.

Notes from that evening: if you can't make the fancy corkscrew work and have shredded the cork to the point that it cannot be removed using normal means, be advised that there are hazards to simply poking it down into the bottle, as well.

Next time, I try the shoe trick.

So we went back to the hotel and crashed. I think it was 4am when we got there. We slept until 4pm the next day. No kidding. :) Pathetic, huh?

We just chilled and enjoyed the accommodations on Sunday. We used the exercise room, had a nice shower, and watched some free HBO, then crashed again. Life was good.

Monday, we went down and used the pool (outdoors - when you're in East Texas, go for a well-kept outdoor pool...trust me on this), showered, and then...headed toward Houston.

Why? Lyl. That's why.

A couple of months ago, at most, one of my oldest and best friends found me on Facebook. I'd changed my name, as noted, but Lyl had gotten married, as well. I knew this much, but never knew her last name. I've wondered for years where she was and how she was and if I'd ever see her again. I think the last time I saw her was, 21 or more years ago. I'd come home from the Air Force and she was one of many who'd come to the weiner roast my parents held to get friends and family together (it's like a barbeque, only cheaper :) ). After that...I had no idea where she was or how she was, etc. And I've wondered through the years, as we do with best friends we've lost touch with.

Once she found me on Facebook, we began chatting almost every night for a while, catching up. So - no surprise - Monday we drove a couple of hours to meet her and have lunch at her family's favorite restaurant (and it was awesome. :) Thanks, Lyl!), then drove up interstate 45 toward home.

We crashed at the Courtyard by Mariott in Wichita Falls, which was not only an excellent hotel and classy coming and going, but also offers an outrageous military discount, to boot (instead of $119/night, we paid $70). Yes, this is a plug for that hotel, too, because frankly? There aren't enough well-kept, friendly hotels at a respectable price in most places. When I find one, I tell people. And I found two, this trip.

The next morning, we drove home. Even the driving was relaxing and enjoyable this trip. I listened to a lot of oooooooold Country Music on the Roadhouse (XM radio), wondered if the male psychology of the South could be altered if were to remove the self-pity/self-congratulatory messages of country music. I wondered why road signs say there's "loose gravel" (as if there's another kind), and in the wilds of West Texas, I found myself seriously considering what train engineers talk about over beers at night. How big and long their trains are, perhaps. And what's the difference between a pond and a lake. Or between a canyon, an arroyo, and a wash. Or how you can tell when a hill is a mesa.

Just reading this, you're suddenly there with me, aren't you? In the nowhere of west Texas, looking at anything that offers itself as scenery, and wondering how anyone ever managed to get across this area using wagons and oxen. Yeah? Yeah.

Awesome weekend. I'm so glad to be home, though. The first two days in East Texas, we ran into the wall of humidity as we left the safety of the air conditioned room, and quickly retreated. Then about the third day, we...adjusted. Weird how quickly that happened, but it did. But when we reached Colorado Springs at almost 10pm, we rolled down the windows and screamed into the night, "YESSSSSS!"

It was a good weekend to be alive. And to everyone who made it to our high school reunion, I miss you already. Take care of yourselves, and let's do it again soon.

d