Wednesday, November 26, 2008

On Reunions

I never liked reunions in any shape or form. I compare them to prom nights where people simply meet up and brag about how pretty or hot their partners are and the fucking that will ensue later than evening. In reunions, people talk about how they've spread their wings and soared after parting ways with others. Of course, reunions would probably end up on a sour note when everybody's realized that their former classmates, friends, and colleagues have drastically changed from before, as their life experiences during the period of estrangement have destroyed the synergy that a certain group of people once had. It's a sad epiphany, I tell you.

My former college buddy messaged and told me that one of our classmates will be arriving soon after a full two years into his religious vocation and a reunion will take place by that time. Even if the event called for us to wear formal attire (!), I simply could not say no.

So why flinch and put my anti-reunion stance into doubt? I don't really know. Add to the fact that I never really enjoyed my college years and oftentimes preferred to sulk and be alone rather than bask and take it easy with my classmates, and now I really don't have any clue why I went. Only when I was there when I realized how I missed those fuckers.

A lot of things have happened throughout the course of not seeing each other for quite some time. Most of them are taking up law school in Rockwell and Diliman, which is definitely good. The person who just arrived from its vocation is planning to take his MBA in Business Administration, if I'm not mistaken. One is a seminarian who is currently teaching CLA in an all-girls school. Now that's news. And me, well, let's forget about me.

From the outset, all of us present in the reunion may have undergone changes of different sorts, but the core that binds us, the sheer and sacred stupidity that we usually put ourselves into, has soldiered on and seems to be going stronger than ever. We reminisced our follies, trials, and misdemeanors, and we all just laughed at them. Now that I've thought about how I got lost going to the reunion, it's actually funny. Apparently, Manila Peninsula and Manila Intercontinental are two different hotels altogether. Hey, at least by wearing my stylish black long sleeves, I just made stupid look good. Quote me on that one.

After much laughter and cussing, we went our separate ways, only to find ourselves back in the grind of things. Slowly the realization of us (meaning I in particular) returning back to hours of cramming a thousand page worth of legal document and the times of losing our minds in front of the computer of your cubicle, cursing yourself why in the blue hell we're employed in the first place. But you know what, if another opportunity for us to meet again in the distant future, count me in. I won't get lost this time. I promise.


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