i had a high school reunion a couple weekends back.
i avoided it like the plague.
not because i'm some asshole that 'doesn't need to see any of those losers ever again.' (not entirely, at least.)
i actually had made definite plans to go.
even convincing my bestie amanda to go too.
sure, there were plenty of people that i could care less about now, but there were some that i would have liked to say, 'hey, cute baby/husband/diploma!'
but the more i committed to going, the less i really wanted to go.
i think this conversation i had with one of my servers sums it up best (just so happens i've known this girl since i was five - and she is one of the coolest girls i know.)
me: ughh, i really don't know if i want to go.
her: what do you have to be embarrassed about, you own a RESTAURANT for god's sakes!
me: precisely. i don't want to have to talk about that for 5 hours.
see, i think of the restaurant as our rebellious second child - chainsmoking, staying out past midnight and constantly being brought home by the cops.
and half the time, she's all anyone really wants to talk about.
in the end, amanda and i blew it off and went out for drinks instead.
time well spent.