I graduated from high school in ‘95, making this our class’s 10th year reunion. Every once in a while this summer, I’d wonder whether or not we’d be doing anything to celebrate—time was passing by awfully fast and nothing was happening. Sure, most of my close friends from school have moved a couple thousand miles away, but I thought it might be nice to catch up with some other people (especially since I’m a TV semi-celebrity now…).
I suppose it was bound to happen—someone would iron out a schedule with a few times and places we could get together. Upon picking up the mail this afternoon, I discovered that someone finally did. There’s just one problem: I got the notice today. The festivities start tomorrow. And I’ve already got plans for the entire weekend. Un-fuckin’-believable…
