When the postcard came in the mail, I read the words “Lake Highlands High School Class of 1998 20-Year Reunion” and audibly groaned. Not because I don’t love my Wildcat alma mater; I really do. But the miser in me doesn’t want to pay $72 to put my social awkwardness on display, and that doesn’t even cover an open bar of liquid courage. I call it extroversion on the rocks.
“But you have to go. It’s your high school reunion,” a miniature-sized Shelby whispered in my ear, though I’m not sure if this mini-me on my shoulders was dressed in white or red. I was genuinely torn. Generally when I write, I do so to inform and help answer reader questions, but transparently I often write to figure out how to do things — I needed to figure out how to go to my high school reunion.
There’s a few ways to go about this: