Surviving a reunion

My little sister said to me that I could not be upset if people at the reunion were not all that crazed to see me. It seems, she said, that all the people going are still friends and so our gathering might be a more of just a night out at a bar.

My little sister is silly.

Everyone was happy to see me, starting with the gal who screamed "Matt" when she saw me. Then there were the people I did not recognize who gave me hugs and talked with me. What was particularly nice was that some people sat down to talk to me, so you know, I heard 75% of what they said. I hate trying to talk or listen to people who are standing. It is too hard.

I don't think anyone asked me to wear a puffy shirt. I wouldn't swear it, though.

I felt bad for dragging Claren out to a loud, crowded bar. I don't think she really minded but every time she got settled someone's foot nudged her. That's OK because I did more than nudge a few feet in my travels through the bar. People were nice about it, though.

Actually, what I felt bad about mostly was leaving early. Well, that and the fact that my indeliable memory of someone singing "Sweet Dreams" at a talent show was disputed. And I know I am right.