Reunited and It Feels So . . . TBD

My high school reunion is coming up in a few months. Ordinarily, this would not be a topic worthy of much discussion: I'd go, have some laughs, and come home -- end of story for another five years. But this one is a little different. You see, the organizers have put together a website with a message board, which has proven to be extremely popular. So essentially, we're having an online reunion for several months before we all actually congregate at the alcohol-infused venue of the organizers' choosing.

This chat board is basically a petri dish of human relationships. A guy who was a mostly unknown dork in high school -- but very bright and witty among the people who bothered to pay any attention to him -- has been the big hit of the last few weeks. He's been blowing everyone away with his humor and his trenchant observations -- to the extent that more than a few of the women who were the ditzy and hyperpopular girls in high school are falling all over themselves with enthusiasm for meeting him at the reunion. (I always thought he was a bit of a misunderstood diamond-in-the-rough, so I'm all in favor of his getting a little love from the ladies.)

As for me: I like to think of myself as a pretty well-rounded and socially ept person, and I think my friends think of me the same way (Friends, feel free to confirm or deny). It's clear to me from reading people's posts on the reunion board that I'm remembered primarily as that really smart girl who was voted most likely to succeed. I haven't thought of myself that way in a really long time -- ever since high school, I've been surrounded by other really smart people and thus my baseline has shifted. But to the folks who knew me when we were all students at a big suburban public high school, I'm that girl who went to the college where only really smart people go. Nothing wrong with intelligence, and it's certainly better to be remembered as smart rather than idiotic, but I do get the sense that a lot of people are expecting me to show up and report that I have accomplished great things with this large brain of mine.

Which leads to the existential question of the night: have I accomplished great things? Maybe, maybe not, but certainly not in a way that would lead the members of my high school class to say "Wow, yeah, she's done what we thought she would." The thing that niggles a bit is this: reading over other people's descriptions of what they're doing makes it clear that a lot of people figured out what they wanted to do, did it, and are now solidly ensconced at senior levels of whatever that thing might be. Law firm partners, experienced social workers, surgeons at research hospitals, stay-at-home-mothers of four, partners at private equity firms . . . so far I haven't seen so many of the career changers. Not so many of the people who have just started new jobs in an attempt to get their careers and home lives balanced in an acceptable manner. And that bothers me a bit.

Not being one to slam myself for any extended period of time, I will note that I've had a series of impressive jobs, each one a highly sought-after position with a widely respected organization. And while I'm pretty darned sure that if I'd remained a lawyer, I'd be a partner right now, you can bet that I'd be sitting here reading the reunion chat board (from work, no doubt, instead of from my living room) feeling wistful about the people who'd had the guts to take a flyer on something new and interesting. Other people's grass being greener and all that.

I will undoubtedly have more thoughts on this whole reunion thing as the day draws nigh. But for now I will just add one other thought. Mentally running through my list of classmates, I can't think of anyone else who I'd categorize as an Urban Mommy. And that is an accomplishment worthy of note, as we are a rare and honorable breed!