Yesterday evening I went out with some old schoolfriends for a drink. Erica I see regularly, but the others I hadn't seen for about six years, so there was a lot of catching up to do. We managed this fairly effortlessly, mostly by bitching about other people whom we hadn't liked at school. Ten years (near enough) may have passed, but the venom felt on our contemporaries' over-achievement / bad haircuts / sports car boasting was still as active as ever. And so we passed an amusing evening. We discussed going to our ten-year reunion this summer. However, we wondered if it might be possible to sit in a corner away from the main event and make sarcastic remarks, thus emulating school itself.
Either that, or we could make up ridiculous stories about what we're doing with our lives. I bagsied teaching yoga to dogs in Ashby de la Zouch, hoping to branch out to Quorn and Rothley in the near future. Sara is going to pretend she's just been released from Guantanamo Bay (complete with orange jumpsuit), Jo is going to pretend she's been in France so long that she can no longer remember how to speak English... and Erica is still deciding. I suggested that she sold cotton reels to charity shops, but she didn't seem keen.
Anyway, the schoolfriends meet-up inspired a certain amount of nostalgia (crikey, I nearly typed "nausea" then... some would say that's symbolic) and I spent much of this evening locating my old photo albums and uploading some (frankly horrific) old images up onto Facebook. So anyone who is a friend in "real life" on Facebook can now see me a) dressed as a White Rabbit b) in school uniform (don't get too excited. It had grey tights) and c) dressed up as a maid... Hmmm, actually I'm sensing a fetish theme here. Oh well, play to your strengths, I guess.