Thus revealed, the creature buried its nose in the tire-tilled soil...
September 21, 2009
Commentary! High School Reunion.
Category: Photo … Travels

Of course, the title refers to mine -- not the TV show or Romy and Michele's -- since my ten-year high school reunion was this weekend! If you're interested, all of my photographs from the event can be seen here. Upon browsing them, Stefmax commented that I have the same face in all of the photos... as if my face should somehow morph and appear different in each picture. I'm not Man-E-Faces or Catherine Weaver, darnit! 😛

My extended comments and observations from the event follow, and I've placed them under subheadings for organization and convenience's sake. I've also withheld names -- unlike I did with my five-year reunion post -- for no reason in particular. If you attended the event and find yourself mentioned, you'll probably know I'm talking about you... and if you don't, that's probably good as well! That said, I hope that you find my comments to be clever, creative, and/or amusing, but not wholly ridiculous.


As Mickey Glitter well knows, I really enjoy discussing attractive women with other people -- particularly when those other people are also attractive women. I'm not sure why that is, but I'd guess it has something to do with the relative purity of it. I mean, there's a certain level of objectification involved whether I'm talking about them with men or women, but our specimens are less likely to be treated explicitly as sex objects when I'm chatting with women. (No, it's got nothing to do with me envisioning steamy lesbian hookups between them... not consciously, anyway.)

Anyway, some of my favorite conversation topics and in-jokes with one old classmate have involved this. Alyssa Milano's name was frequently on our lips back in high school, and since then we (or at least I) have enjoyed speaking fondly and admiringly of a former classmate who had the body of a hentai character. That girl didn't show up at the reunion, unfortunately, but we did talk about her for a bit before proceeding to comment on how amazing one of our classmates who was in attendance looked.

And then I remarked that the two of us should conspire to kidnap her and keep her in a backyard for 18 years. (My hypothetical partner in crime pointed out that our hypothetical victim is noticeably larger than both of us, but I maintained that we could take her together.) I'm not sure how funny my hypothetical partner in crime found the joke, but I was amused -- or at least just glad to be able to say something like that out loud without fearing for my own safety. I've been threatened with expulsion and questioned by police for far more innocent comments, after all!

It is always great to see my hypothetical co-conspirator, too.


It's taken me a while, but I've gotten fairly good at discerning what people think of me in the last eight years -- which admittedly shouldn't have taken me so long to figure out since most people have the same decidedly and extremely low opinion of me. No matter how people view me, though, it's always interesting to hear particular things that they remember about me. One classmate mentioned a sophomore-year incident during which I shouted at my classmates for tearing pages out of the history textbooks. I don't remember this in the least, and sincerely question whether it actually took place, but it sounds like something I might have done if I were in a particularly bad mood! I strongly disapprove of tearing pages out of books.

Another classmate mentioned that he remembers me telling him about the deliciousness of okra all the way back in elementary school. I have no difficulty believing this, as I was recently telling Mickey Glitter about the very same thing! And another commented that he always enjoys talking with me because my conversation always proves "ridiculous." I'm not sure how I feel about that! Certainly some of what I say is ridiculous -- in an insanely clever, creative, and/or amusing way, I hope -- but I'd like to think I'm not Izzy crazy all of the time.

Also, when talking to a former classmate and fellow Yale alum (she went to grad school there, so we weren't there simultaneously), I mentioned that I was glad to not be there now -- with the Annie Le murder and the likelihood that I would've topped the suspect list, or at least had all preexisting fears of me intensified with authority. Of course, a comment like that requires at least a brief description of my troubles as a student, which prompted her to respond, "But you're so nice!" I always take statements like that with a full shaker of salt -- I absolutely hate being called "sweet," mostly because in my experience it's meant "that was a nice thing you did, but you creep me the flip out and if you ever come near me again I'm having you arrested for rape" -- but that was still one of the highlights of my evening. She also seemed genuinely incredulous when I mentioned that I don't have any friends with whom I spend time in response to her comment about moving away from her close friends. Is that really so hard to believe? As I said to her, "Why would I lie about something like that?" Well, I can see lying about it to make myself seem more mysterious and/or sympathetic, but I was telling the truth.

I might be wrong about this, but I'm pretty sure I haven't met anyone (outside of my immediate family, anyway) for a social outing since 2007. Wait, no -- there was RennFest in August 2008. I think that was the only time I met up with anyone that year.

Do you find me curious? Worthy of pity? That's it... come to me.


Off the top of my head, I can only think of two or three women at the reunion who aren't married and/or in a relationship. What the hell is up with that?! As I mentioned to many of my male classmates -- and the girl who called me "nice" (which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake) -- that just introduced an unpleasant element into my fantasies. See, while this would only happen for real in an alternate universe in which I'm far less reviled by others, not 100% guaranteed to be rejected, and unconcerned with going to prison for evincing more than the slightest amount of interest in a particular member the opposite sex, I like to imagine myself hitting on the more attractive female attendees at the reunion. But since most of them were involved, I now have to imagine myself punching out their husbands/boyfriends first, which introduces an element of violence that just ruins the sexy mood. I guess the violent episodes could add to the sexiness, but only if I were wearing a Japanese schoolgirl uniform and fighting with samurai sword. Or maybe a cape -- capes are always hawt.

I did somehow tell the the amazing-looking girl that she looked amazing, though. I'm not sure what I said immediately after that -- probably something apologetic -- but I recall her replying, "Come on; who doesn't like compliments?!" "When they're from me?" I said. I glanced away and chuckled weakly.


The open bar thing was great, though the bartenders' insistence on giving me extremely shallow glasses was less so. I mean, the glasses were your basic tumblers, but they were only filling them with a shot's worth of liquor! And while I understand that they probably meant well and/or were looking out for themselves, c'mon, man. OPEN. BAR. Yes, it meant I could keep coming back (I lost count of how many drinks I had, but it wasn't nearly enough since I didn't feel remotely dizzy, get the slightest urge to puke, or even need to use the bathroom until after the thing was over), but they could've saved me the trouble.

And at one point, after a brief group conversation, one classmate pointed at me and said, "Hey man, go easy on the drinks!" What the fuck is up with that? That kinda annoyed me, because a) I was nowhere near drunk enough to require intervention, and b) even if I had been more drunk, the only times someone should ever call out the drinker are if the drinker is stumbling around, pissing on himself, and/or making really obnoxious, out-of-character comments. Or greedily gulping down a large and really strong drink, which I wasn't because they were practically filling my glasses with bottlecaps. That I didn't respond by saying, "The fuck? Fuck you, man!" is proof that I wasn't very drunk at all.


Admittedly, though I would never do it unless it seemed like my only option, I really get a kick out of peeing in public, non-restroom places. I think it's because it's a completely victimless crime -- as long as you're careful to remain hidden from view and don't piss on something important (or someone), nobody gets hurt, all traces of your transgression will vanish shortly (unless lots of people pee in the same place, in which case an odor will linger), and it's such a relief for you. Anyway, given that I needed to take a major leak shortly after the event ended -- and because the hotel had locked all of the bathroom doors and the nearby restaurants were all closed by this point -- it became necessary for me to find someplace hidden to drain the lizard. As I discovered, this is rather difficult to do in the busy downtown Baltimore area on a Saturday night! I ended up sneaking onto an enclosed fire escape type area and going there -- which I only mention because, as I was walking down the stairs, I noticed a bit of liquid raining down over the side of the thing. This would have been pretty gross if some had dripped on me, but since it didn't I thought it was rather neat.

I'm thinking sharing that last bit was probably ill-advised, but I'd also bet that I've written way worse things on this blog! If you're a potential employer who happens to be reading this, just make sure that you keep the bathrooms clean and unlocked -- and with a ready supply of toilet paper -- and we won't have any problems. 😉

I guess that's all I've got, then. GOODNIGHT, EVERYBODY! THANKS FOR COMING OUT! :mrgreen:

-posted by Wes | 5:06 am | Comments (6)
  • De says:

    One of the good things about living in the middle of nowhere is that the whole yard is your bathroom. Occasionally, it's even necessary in order to keep the deer away from the gardens.

    • Wes says:

      Somehow, peeing in your own yard just isn't the same! You'd have to be peeing in someone else's yard for it to be entertaining -- and that wouldn't be a victimless crime, since you'd leave brown patches in their yard and stuff. That it helps keep deer away does add a practical element, though.

      Also -- why am I not surprised that, out of all of the topics in that post, you chose to focus on the bathroom one? 😉

  • Molly says:

    Well hey, sometimes you just gotta go.

    I can't believe you went to your reunion! (I did not.)

    • Wes says:

      Yeah, I know you didn't go to my reunion -- I looked everywhere for you and you were not there! 😉

      I probably wouldn't have gone if college had been (a whole hell of a lot) better, since that would have made high school the most unpleasant time in my academic career. But given the murder and rape accusations they threw at me at Yale -- and the experiences I've had since graduation, for that matter -- high school seems pretty great by comparison!

      • Molly says:

        Aw, I hear ya. I think life has gotten better for me since -- well, college, but definitely better than high school. I wouldn't say no to an elementary school reunion, except there are a couple of people I do not like and they'd be the ones to be like REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE BEST FRIENDS and I'd just have to stab them in the face. Figuratively.

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