For about the first hour or two, I was extremely uncomfortable. I felt like backing myself into a corner. I don't know why exactly. I guess it was my old hostilities and insecurities coming back. I guess that makes sense, since the cliques were still basically the same. The "fluff chicks" (I'll explain that later) were still little bitches (for the most part), and the no-neck assholes were still juvenile assholes. I ended up talking mostly to the "nerdy" guys I was friends with or had honors classes with in high school. Well, if by nerd you mean interested in math, science, computers, etc., and made good grades. I was/am a nerd, too, for that matter. One guy, Craig, I had gone to school with, rode the bus with, and lived in the same neighborhood with since kindergarten. It was nice to see him, and Derek and Kwynn.

Matt, who I really wanted to see, was not there. Matt, Josh, and I were like the trouble-making 3 musketeers. We had Mr. Johnson's AP classes together(Advanced Placement - what TARGET became). Mr. Johnson hated us. We were just too smart-assed. Matt and I shared a love of Converse high tops, heavy metal, and sarcasm. Josh was the court jester, always a riot. The three of us had lunch together, and they would make "Burrito Man". Well, looking at the food, what would you do with it? Certainly not eat it. They also made "Apple Man" by somehow drilling a hole through it in which to pour milk to make it look like he was throwing it up. OK, we were easily amused nerds. But man, I laughed 'til it hurt. I miss those guys.

I had a few people tell me I looked "exactly the same". Hmmm. When the first person said that, a particularly bitchy girl, I asked if that was a compliment. She said yes. I guess it was. Craig said he wouldn't have guessed I was a programmer. I said, "Why, 'cause I don't have a pocket protector?" I may not look the part, but I'm a nerd. Just ask my Dad. Of course, Craig is now a car salesman, and I'd have never predicted that.

I ran into one guy who was one of the "headbangers" or whatever they called us. He had a mullet and everything. He is now Mr. GQ Wall Street in a suit and tie with short hair. I have to say, he was VERY handsome. We talked a while about our jobs, our lives now, our lives then, etc. We talked about how the old heavy metal is the best; and Korn, Linkin Park, et al are just poor imitations. I told him how strange it was to put in Slayer or Anthrax and still know all the words. "The only thing harder's the smell of my feet." Hehe.

Sherry and I "studied" before we left by looking at our senior yearbook. We wondered who would still have a mullet, who would be fat, who would be thin, who was in jail, who's has plastic surgery, etc. I don't remember any mullets. One girl, Barbie (not a made up name), looked like she might have had implants. Craig pointed this out to me. I really didn't look that closely. She had some Vegas Dance Troupe or some shit listed on her bio. Uh huh. Bleached blonde tanning bed queen. Some things never change.

OK, fluff chicks is what I called the popular snotty girls. I made a comment about them in our "Last Will and Testament" that said something like this - "To all the fluff chicks: All that hairspray won't do you any good in the real world when all the people you made fun of are your bosses. And payback is hell." They edited the end to say, "and payback bad," making me sound like Evil Stan Clone from South Park. Me bad? Ka chewy cha. Anyway, a lot of them came up to me after that came out to ask if I was talking about them. I just said those I spoke of knew who they were. Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate them all. A few were actually nice. They were the exception to the rule, though.

Well, Sherry said it was disappointing, and I agree. But what was I expecting? I figured they'd all be just the same shitheads they always were. I'm certainly glad Sherry and I went together. It eased my anxiety a bit, and kept me from walking in there alone. Another good thing is that we plan to hang out more often, you know, without the pressure of preparing for the reunion. Maybe she can give me cooking lessons.