Just as Chloe is getting ready to “graduate” from 5th grade (I won’t start to rant about how ridiculous a 5th grade graduation ceremony is, but boy it is really ridiculous.  If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, our generation coddles our kids way too much), I’m getting ready to celebrate the 25th anniversary of my high school graduation.

At this time tomorrow, I will be enjoying a bonfire on the beach with a bunch of former classmates, many of whom I have not seen since 1987.  I have not been very good at keeping in touch with my old friends; in fact, I’ve been horrible at keeping in touch.   After 25 years, life has just taken over.  And yet, I don’t feel like it’s been that long.

But here we are.  Communicating on Facebook about our plans for tomorrow.  Looking at the attendee list to make sure there are people attending whom we’d enjoy seeing again, at least for an evening (indeed there are).  Wondering what we’re going to wear.  Waxing nostalgic about our favorite teachers and our favorite music (David Bowie!) from our high school years.

I took some time to match up the names on the list with the yearbook photos.  What stood out the most was that there were way too many mullets back then.  I anticipate there will be far fewer mullets on display tomorrow.  An increased number of bald or balding heads, however, would not be surprising.

Here’s the thing. I remember when my mom went to her 25th high school reunion.  It happened to be the year I graduated from high school. I thought she was old then.  But I certainly don’t feel old enough to be contemplating such a milestone, let alone living it tomorrow.

It should be a hoot.