Down the basement, lock the cellar door!

Let’s get right down to business, shall we?

As you know, Saturday night was the big Class of 1988 Twentieth Reunion Bust-up Jamboree Wing-Ding Saturnalia. To prepare for the event, I indulged in some vegetable quesadillas and a Budweiser less than an hour before the party. (This is not an attempt to foreshadow. Surprisingly, those quesadillas did not put an early end to my evening. BUT, please know: If you’re ever about to attend an event that you’re not so sure about, stuff a bunch of beans and shiny grilled vegetables into a tortilla and swallow. You’re now at the 50% level of May or May Not Have to Make an Early Departure. If you top off those quesadillas with something containing tequila? Yeah. You may as well just stay home, Cinderella.)

During the five minute drive from my parents’ house to the Elks Lodge, I explored my feelings with Jeff.

Me: Jeff, I am unexpectedly scared about walking into the Elks Lodge. My flesh? It is crawling.
Jeff: Is that you talking or the quesadillas?
Me: I think the quesadillas are taking a well-deserved siesta for now. This is straight-on Me.
Jeff: I wouldn’t worry. Unless the Elk are there. They eat bones, you know.

(Jeff sometimes links to information during our conversations. He’s incredible, really.)

((Apparently, the plural of elk (the animal) is elk, and the plural of Elk (the benevolent man in the funny hat) is Elks!))

We entered the building, and before I took the time to grab my name tag I was approached by two people from my old gang. (I recognized them immediately. Brown and gold bandannas, teardrop tattoos, and dangerously low-hanging jeans. Obviously, I’m kidding. Also, no disrespect intended to actual gang members, yo.) From that point forward, I felt like a character in Einstein’s Dreams. Who knew that time could actually accelerate as you stand with beer in hand and talk about the past?

Anyway, here is proof that I actually attended. Surprisingly, my face was in this position for most of the night:
Ah, Bud Light.
(Is it weird that I was the only person in the room without cryptonymous eyewear?)

Although there was some dancing (not done by me, of course), most of the evening was spent wandering around and doing this:
Little Women (and some men)
(Thanks to Jeff for taking lots of photos that night as I wandered around saying things like, “Oh! I’m going to go say hi to Blashen Blashenfield!”)

Biggest surprise of the night: One of the guys in my class has six grandkids.

Not such a big surprise: There is only one person I know of who actively didn’t like me in high school. (Many people didn’t know me. Only one chose to be a hater. I suppose I’m lucky.) Anyway, I said hello to that girl in the bathroom, and although she looked right at me, she didn’t return the hello. And as I took care of business, I listened to her tell a story to someone, and it was one of the most boring stories I’ve ever heard in my life, and I kept thinking, “Really? You haven’t seen this person in twenty years and you’re telling THAT exasperating story? Please stop before I become the girl who fell asleep on the toilet at the reunion!” All of this to say: I’m sort of glad my water hasn’t gone under her bridge. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Oh! Oh! Later in the night, I saw her dancing to Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me”, and she was doing that thing where you act out the lyrics as you dance, and when I saw her go down the baseMENT and LOCK the CELLAR DOOR! (complete with acting out the motion of going down stairs and turning a key in a lock) I had to smile. Because who does that? I’m cool with her not liking me.

It was a good night. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

24 thoughts on “Down the basement, lock the cellar door!”

  1. Hey Angie! It’s Jennifer Turley (Nash)! I read your blog all the time!!! I’ve recently created a facebook (with the help of my children) and have received tons of pix from the reunion. You all look just incredible. It’s even more fun though that I feel like I’m still apart of your life, thru your blog! I don’t know who in the world would not have liked you in school! That’s just crazy talk!!! Remember when we were at a slumber party at Sarah Grimms house and they wanted to drink some of the alcohol behind the bar in the basement?! In like…4th grade!!! Ahh those were the days!
    Anyway…just wanted to tell you that I am a blog fan — your daughters are darling — and I’m so glad you’re doing well.

  2. I’m so glad it was fun! I’m so glad you wore the dress! I am now wondering if boring bathroom talker/basement door locker is in the picture. Hmmm…

    (I will not be attending mine next year due in large part to the fact that I was kinda trampy and there is potential for a lot of Cupcake Haters to knock my frosting in the dirt. I will, instead, delight in yours and know that sometimes those “reunion” things are worthwhile.)

    You look happy.

  3. okay, interpretive dance should NEVER include locking any sort of basement door. I’m just saying.

    However, we don’t have to worry about that train wreck of a classmate because you and the dress are so lovely! I’m glad you had a good time…

  4. I have nothing at all constructive to contribute to these comments, but I felt compelled to mention that “Einstein’s Dreams” (how do I underline in comments?) is one of my top three favorite books of all time.

    And also that I graduated the same year that you did. And I haven’t been to a reunion since the 5 year reunion (where I had an experience wherein a small group of haters were made to look foolish and it was awesome) and don’t plan on going to any more. You are much braver and awesomer than me!

  5. Oh my word, I haven’t laughed this hard in at least 28 minutes! I stumbled on you by way of Ragged Around the Edges at Write On. I’m in the midst of a Blog to Blog project. Checking out new blogs by way of blogs I already love…so here I am posting about you. Come by, check it out, and share the love…please (I ain’t too proud to beg).

  6. yeah, my 20th is this year too and I don’t think I’m brave enough to attend. can’t deal with the “haters”…and the cheerleader-types who, to this day, act as if they are still in the high school cliques

  7. and that was just perfect. I loved the image of her dancing and you miss thing make me laugh outloud! I pee sometimes teeny bit in my pants when I come here. I love you!

  8. what’s so funny is that they ALL wore the same black-banded rectangular sunglasses except YOU! you stood out, clearly. (the girl with the jeans and black shirt surely is cute from the back!)

  9. We entered the building, and before I took the time to grab my name tag I was approached by two people from my old gang. (I recognized them immediately. Brown and gold bandannas, teardrop tattoos, and dangerously low-hanging jeans.

  10. First of all, I’d like to point out that none of those people are dressed “casually”. “Business casual,” maybe, and the woman with the white (denim?) shorts and heels? Tied with the Poison-dancer for bad taste!

  11. The name of my new cover band is going to be “Cryptonymous Eyewear” and we are totally going to do that Poison song, complete with acted-out lyrics. Thank you!

  12. Angie- LOVE the blog. Bookmarking it now. HArd to believe we actually enjoyed the reunion. Why did it take us 20 years to figure out we could be in the same room and treat each other decently? (Well, most of us, anyway . . .) It was good to see you!

  13. You are the funniest person, ever…okay that may be an exaggeration, but you’re pretty funny! I wish I knew the identity of your hater, but I can only imagine. It was probably the same person who looked at me as if she were smelling something foul. I did, however, check my pits to make sure I wasn’t emitting offensive odors.

  14. Hi Angie…it was good to see you at the reunion. Didn’t Blashen Blashenfield look great? It was a good time at the reunion. I missed the Lock the Cellar Door dancer and am wondering who hated you and why they aren’t over it by now.

  15. Angie – I love your site here, and it was great seeing you at the 20th. I was a bit nervous, too, although I personally passed on the quesa-diLLas. :)
    You may not remember, but we share the exact same bday – and used to live across the street from each other. Why did we not hang out more back then?? I was never a hater – promise!
    Wish I had seen the chic locking the cellar door – or maybe NOT!

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