It’s nearly two weeks after the reunion. Yet as I type this blog post, my friends are still uploading photos and videos, tagging each other, and commenting on Facebook. Rebecca’s “Is anyone else having Dragon withdrawal?” ignited a chain reaction.
I’m not having a withdrawal. I just want the party to continue. The reunion launched my summer vacation. I want this long-awaited holiday to last forever. At least, allow me to indulge in the fond memories of this reunion.
It was obvious from the usual congregations that there were close friends who stayed in touch over the years. There were the jocks, the cheerleaders, the blondes, the nerds, the thespians, the musicians, the officers’ kids, and the civilians. I recognized their faces but I didn’t know them. Some of them I don’t remember ever having a conversation during high school. Yet here we were — all on a boat that’s to set sail on the afternoon of July 10th. We’d be together for the next 72 hours.
In her new and bright-colored, figure-hugging dress, Lori stared at me, in my plain, second-hand spaghetti-strapped sundress. “What happened to you, Anne? Where is your outrageous outfit? Have you lost your mojo?”
I felt a disconnect. What mojo? Why does it matter what I wear? Am I expected to be the center of attention every time?
Why has my world become that of the Titanic and not “Love Boat” ?
I opted out of any drinks package. I was protesting, or rather, broadcasting that I was on a special diet. No alcohol. No caffeine. No fried foods. No spicy foods. No tomatoes. No onions. I was on a high protein, low fat diet, to eat six little meals a day in diminishing portions.
Robert, meanwhile, calculated that he would have to drink seven beers a day to break even on the $35 per day beer package. By the third beer, he lost count.
From my sober eyes, I watched my beloved high school reunion unfold. The boat was big. Our cabin was situated on the fifth deck. It took me awhile to figure out that decks corresponded to levels — the higher the number, the upper the deck.
The first to register for the cruise ironically ended up sharing a cabin with the last to register — literally the day before we set sail. By the second day, they had gotten used to each other and refused a free cabin upstairs.
There were so many blondes on this cruise that I had trouble remembering their names, let alone distinguish among them. Some classmates brought their entire families. I spent a lot of time looking for Lori and Leslie. The boat was a big maze of long hallways.
In the end, we decided it was easiest to meet at the piano bar on the fifth deck. In the evening, a young singer/pianist churned out Billy Joel. During the day, it served other purposes. When I couldn’t participate in trivial pursuit, I jotted down the questions and answers to repeat at dinner.
On Saturday, we docked near CocoCay, the private island where we competed on the beach in five groups. First, a cheer for Kubasaki — group five won with their “K-UB-ASAKI” Later, balloon zigzag, water balloon toss. Wet T-shirt contest. Sand castle contest.
The turning point came when I swam with the fish. The water was calm, conducive for lap-swimming. How I wish Maui could afford such shark-free, wave-free calmness! With my goggles I peered below. I could stay out here forever, if not for hunger pains.
In the evening, we dressed up for our group photo. There’s something about dressing up that makes one feel important and dignified. It prepared me for the dance that Derrick orchestrated as an experienced DJ who played everyone’s requests. By the time “Boogie Nights” was played, we were flat out.
I’m writing this for all my classmates who could not or did not join us on this reunion cruise. It’s well worth it. Thank you, Julie, Keith, Rebecca, Derrick, and others who conceived of the cruise as a reunion event and organized it so well for others to enjoy.
As I write this, there is rumor of another cruise. Classmates, take heed!